“You’re saying it’s just coincidence. He gets in trouble at work, disappears a few nights later and is found dead a week later, but it’s all coincidence.”
“Coincidence. Bad luck. His time to go.”
She wanted to believe him—wanted it more desperately than she could say. But it seemed just a little too coincidental, and he seemed just a little too troubled. Because he knew? Because he’d graduated from saving a man from arrest to protecting a murderer?
Hugging her arms to her chest, she went into the kitchen and began fixing two glasses of tea. She dropped an ice cube to the floor, splashed tea all over the counter. When he pulled the pitcher from her hand, she let him. When he wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her bottom snugly against his hips, she let him do that, too.
“I want to make love to you,” he murmured directly above her ear. “I want to be inside you, Mary Katherine. I want to stay there, safe inside you, for the rest of my life.”
Even though she shouldn’t, even though last night was supposed to be just another one-night aberration, she wanted exactly the same thing. In bed together they were safe. She could believe him. She could trust him.
Sliding free of his arms, she walked into the bedroom and pulled the shades hidden behind the sheer white curtains. She folded back the covers on the bed she’d recently made, turned on the fan she’d just shut off and began unbuttoning the dress she’d worn so briefly.
On the other side of the bed, he was undressing, too, revealing a broad chest, narrow waist, lean hips, nice legs. Smooth, tanned skin, taut muscle, and one hell of an impressive arousal. “Why, Mr. Reynard,” she said in her best fluttering-lashes, syrupy-sweet Southern belle imitation, “you could bring fear to an innocent young girl’s heart.”
“Or pleasure to an experienced woman’s body.”
And sorrow to a foolish woman’s heart.
He rested one knee on the mattress, then stretched out as she shimmied out of her dress. In that brief moment his voice got huskier, thicker. “But I’m not interested in an innocent young girl or an experienced woman. I only want you.”
He’d told her that once before, and it had lasted less than twelve hours. How long this time? she wondered as she joined him on the bed. Twenty-four hours? Forty-eight? Maybe, if she was lucky, the remaining eight weeks of summer. But not forever. Chance with his sweet lies wasn’t the forever type.
But that didn’t keep her out of his arms. It didn’t make her turn away from his kisses and his heated, tormenting caresses. It didn’t stop her from welcoming him inside her body and holding him there, and it didn’t even come close to stopping her from surrendering to his passion, his pleasure, his sweet whispered promises.
He was going to break her heart again, no doubt about it, but this time she couldn’t lay all the blame on him. This time, even knowing what he could do, she’d welcomed him. She’d offered herself to him, to do with what he would, and she would pay the price later. The pain would come soon enough.
But right now he was giving her nothing but pure, soul-deep pleasure.
And right now she couldn’t think of anything else she needed.
Chapter 6
Though his limbs were heavy with satisfaction and felt boneless, Chance summoned the energy to lift himself off Mary Katherine, then collapsed beside her on the bed. He lay on his stomach. She remained on her back. His skin was sticky and damp. Hers was flushed. He felt as if he couldn’t rise from the bed to save his life. She looked the same.
“Are you awake?” he asked, his voice rusty.
“Am I alive?”
He trailed one fingertip across her stomach to her breast and watched her nipple quiver in response. “You’re alive.”
“Hmm. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
Which was exactly where an angel belonged. Not with a sinner like him.
He wanted to simply lie beside her, to savor the quiet, the satisfaction, but there wasn’t time. They were both due at work before long, and he had to know what was going on before she set foot on the Queen again. “We need to talk, sugar.”
That made her stiffen, made her turn her head toward him and open her wary eyes. “Is this where you say ‘hey, it was fun, but now it’s time to move on’?”
He didn’t smile. She didn’t seem to expect him to. “I’ve been told that you’re asking questions on the Queen.”
For a long time her expression remained blank, then she slowly blinked. “Asking questions? Someone keeps track of the questions I ask?”
“When you ask this kind of question—questions about honesty, about cheating—yeah, someone notices. Why so curious, Mary Katherine?”
She reached for the sheet and pulled it modestly over her before shrugging carelessly. “All the talk about the dealer being accused of cheating, I guess. I can see where it might be a tremendous temptation, but I don’t really understand how anyone could pull it off.” She shrugged again. “It was just idle curiosity.”
He studied her intently, searching her face for some clue that she was being truthful. He didn’t find anything that convinced him she was, but, more importantly, he didn’t find anything that convinced him she wasn’t. Her gaze was steady, clear. If she was lying, she was good at it, and he really didn’t think she could be that good. She was too sweet, too much a real, live angel.
Deciding to believe her, he sat up, swung his feet to the floor and, for the second time that day, started dressing in the same clothes. “Forget the questions, darlin’. In the gaming business, even idle chatter about cheating can cause serious harm.”
“Yeah, look at Paulie Baker,” she said quietly. Accusingly.
He looked at her over his shoulder as he tugged one boot on. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. The authorities are investigating Baker’s death. Let’s see what they find out before we start convicting anyone.”
He finished dressing quickly, then sat on the edge of the mattress, beside her. “I’m going home to shower and change. I’ll pick you up in an hour, okay?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Your car’s not running, remember? Besides, I want to.” He grinned his best, most charming grin. “It’s a fantasy of mine—picking up a beautiful, sweet, innocent angel and taking her for the ride of her life.”
“And you do it quite well. You must get a lot of practice.”
His gaze shifted from her dark brown eyes to her lips, slightly parted, inviting his kiss, and his voice went husky. “Only with you, darlin’. Only with you.” With more willpower than he knew he possessed, he stood without kissing her and started away. He made it to the bedroom door before she spoke.
“Chance?”
Stopping, he turned back to find her watching him. She looked incredible lying there in bed—so well-made-love-to. “Yeah?”
For a long time she simply looked at him, studying, measuring. Then, as if she’d seen whatever answer she needed to see, a satisfied little smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Never mind. I’ll see you in an hour.”
With a nod, he walked out of the bedroom, through the kitchen, out the door. The only thing that made it bearable was the sure knowledge that he would be back, and she would be waiting.
At his apartment, he showered, shaved and dressed, then sat at the table with the phone. For a time, he merely sat there, staring at the keypad, debating whether to pick up the receiver and dial. He’d believed Mary Katherine, hadn’t he? She was just curious, nothing more. She’d always been curious, full of questions about things she didn’t know or understand. That was all that had prompted her questions.
But when he finished debating, he dialed the number. He had just a little doubt, just a little concern about why she’d felt the need to cover herself before answering, about how calculated that careless little shrug of hers seemed in hindsight. And in this business, a little doubt could easily get you a little dead.
Like Paulie Baker.
The call was answered on the second ring. “
Jake’s Classic Cars. You need a part, we’ll find it.”
“Jake, it’s Chance.”
“One of my best customers. How’s the Cuda?”
“It’s fine,” he said absently. “Listen, I need a favor—anything you can turn up on Mary Katherine. Any ties to former employees of the Queen, anything connecting her to Ianucci or the customer list or…hell, anything.”
His boss’s voice changed from friendly to serious. “Is there a problem?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“You think Mary Katherine is up to something?”
“I don’t know. I just…need to know.”
“If she’s a potential problem, maybe you should get rid of her.”
“The last employee the Queen got rid of was found floating in the river with a bullet in his brain. Gives new meaning to the word ‘fired,’ doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I heard about it. We’ll see what we can dig up on her. Anything else?”
“No, that’ll take care of it.” They talked a moment longer before Chance hung up and exhaled heavily. He felt both relieved and guilty. If there was anything at all out there connecting Mary Katherine to the Queen, Jake’s people would find it. If there wasn’t, if she truly had nothing to hide, they’d find that out, too. And if his asking seemed like a betrayal…well, he’d betrayed her once and survived. He could do it again.
Except that this time, if she was innocent, she’d never have to know.
By five-forty, he was sitting outside her apartment. By five-fifty, they’d said hello to a grinning Jimbo and were on their way up the gangway to the Queen. Once they’d passed the guards stationed at the top, Chance pulled her aside, out of sight and earshot of everyone. If the security cameras happened to catch them on video, everyone would assume he’d sought privacy for a kiss, and so he gave her that first. Then, when she was still soft-eyed and breathless, he leaned close and murmured, “Remember what I told you. No more questions.”
“Right,” she said dazedly.
“I mean it. I vouched for you, Mary Katherine, so if you screw up, it looks bad for me.”
She took a breath to clear her head, then nodded solemnly. “I won’t ask any more questions. I promise.”
A solemn promise from an impeccably proper Southern belle should give a man a certain sense of ease. Somehow this one didn’t. Because he was suspicious by nature? Because he’d worked undercover too long? Because he was surrounded by people who broke promises as easily as they breathed? Whatever the reason, he made a promise to himself as he sent her off to the locker room that he’d keep a closer watch on her.
And he always kept his promises.
It was Saturday evening, and though the news of Paulie Baker’s death had spread, it hadn’t dampened anyone’s spirits. There was too much liquor flowing, too much money changing hands. The crowd was having a good time and kept the waitresses busy, particularly in the Memphis Saloon, where Mary Katherine was working. Chance spent much of the first cruise in there, seated at the bar, keeping track of who she spoke to and for how long, trying to get a feel for conversations he couldn’t hear. There were lots of smiles, lots of laughs, a commiserating look or two with the other waitresses. It didn’t appear that anything the least bit serious was going on.
Because it was Saturday evening, he couldn’t spend the entire night there in the saloon. He had one of his riskier jobs to take care of, and he left shortly after the late cruise began to do so.
Everyone kept busy on weekends, from Ianucci down to the lowliest dishwasher. Neither Casey nor Lawrence ever set foot in the office they shared until the last hour of the late cruise and often not even then if things were hopping in the gaming rooms. That made it the perfect opportunity for Chance to download the past week’s records from the computer. Ianucci took every precaution possible—everything was encrypted six ways to Sunday—but the FBI’s computer guys were every bit as good as Ianucci’s. All Chance had to do was download the files to a flash drive and get it to Jake, and the computer geeks took care of the rest.
He went below decks, past the employees’ lounge and along one passageway to the casino manager’s office. He let himself in and, by the light of the lone lamp Casey always kept burning, made his way to her desk.
The flash drive was small enough to get swallowed up in the inside coat pocket where he kept his pager. He fished it out, logged on to the computer and started the downloading process, impatiently drumming his fingers on the desk while he watched the progress flash across the monitor.
The copy was sixty-eight percent complete when a sound in the passageway made him freeze. With his right hand, he drew his weapon as he shut off the lamp and, in the faint light from the monitor, stealthily circled the desk to a spot behind the door.
The knob turned audibly, and the door slowly swung in. The intruder was just as slow to intrude, but as soon as he was halfway inside, Chance grabbed him—no, her, he realized from the softness of the skin he gripped—yanked her inside, slammed the door and shoved her against it, hand over her mouth. If this was Casey, come to check something in her own office, he was going to have a hell of a time explaining himself.
But it wasn’t Casey. One breath of delicately perfumed air told him that. It also told him who it was.
“Damn it, Mary Katherine, what in the hell are you doing?” he demanded. Even in the shadowy light, he could see her eyes were huge, and he felt the trembling ricocheting through her body where it was in contact with his. He started to remove his hand, then decided she was probably panicked enough to overreact. “You’re not going to scream, are you?”
She shook her head slowly, and he pulled his hand back, then returned his pistol to its holster. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I—I—” After gulping a deep, noisy breath, she went on. “I saw you come in and I just wanted—”
“Liar.” He’d been doing this too long to be so careless. There’d been no one in the passageway when he’d entered the office and no place to hide. There was no way she could have seen him.
Presumably because she couldn’t give a better answer, her response was to put him on the defensive. She pushed him away, then glanced around the room, her gaze settling immediately on the computer. “I wouldn’t have figured you for the computer type. What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Just some work.”
Before he could stop her, she circled him and headed for the desk. The monitor cast eery light over her face and showed the curiosity that swept across her features. “You’re downloading files. In the dark. In an office not your own. Why? What are you up to, Chance?” Suddenly she looked at him, wide-eyed again. “Oh, my God, are you—you’re…you’re a—a cop or something, aren’t you, and you’re trying to get evidence against Ianucci. That’s why you helped him avoid arrest, so he would trust you, so he would give you a job where you could work against him from the inside.”
He wanted to shake her, to insist no, no, no, she had it all wrong. Instead, he aimed for cool. “You’ve got some imagination there, angel. Do you dislike what I am so much that you have to pretend I’m somebody else? Is a cop so much better for the crown princess of Jubilee society than a glorified casino security guard?”
“If that’s all you are, why are you downloading these files in secret? Why are you sneaking around in here?”
The computer beeped, signaling that the copying process was complete. He returned the flash drive to his pocket and was exiting the utilities program when the lights suddenly came on. Now it was his turn to look wide-eyed and panicked. “What the hell are you doing? That switch is connected to the alarm system!”
“Sorry. I didn’t…” She swallowed hard. “Are we in trouble?”
“Big trouble.” Sweet damnation, there would be guards in the passageway before they could get ten feet in either direction. His entire body humming with tension, he verbally hurried the computer along so he could shut it down even as he tried to think of a way out of this mess.
Only one idea came to mind. He ripped off his coat, undid his tie and swiftly unbuttoned his vest and the top half-dozen buttons of his shirt. Mary Katherine stared at him, unmoving, until he grabbed her hand, pulled her down on the couch with him and easily stripped her costume to her waist. As footsteps sounded in the hallway, he slid his hands into her hair, dislodging bobby pins and sending heavy strands tumbling, and at the same time he kissed her, claiming her mouth in a hard, hungry, demanding kiss.
By the time the door was flung open, he was sprawled on the sofa, hard and hot and too damn needy, and she was on top of him, incredibly soft, incredibly desirable. She gave a startled cry when the first two guards burst into the room. When three more immediately followed, she jerked her mouth free of Chance’s and tried to sit up, but he held her tightly against him. “I wouldn’t recommend it, darlin’,” he drawled under the cover of the guards’ snickers and laughter. “It seems we have an audience.”
Mary Katherine was embarrassed beyond words. Mortified. Humiliated. Never in her life had she been caught half-naked in such a position by five strange men. No, make that seven, she corrected as their bosses—the head of security and Ianucci himself—came into the room. The guards immediately went silent. She was hoping she just might give in to the shame and go up in flames, leaving nothing but ash behind, but no such luck. When Ianucci ordered the guards to wait outside, she was still there. When he picked up Chance’s coat from the floor, dangling it from one fingertip, and offered it to her, she was still alive and capable of feeling every ounce of embarrassment and then some.
With some careful maneuvering, she was able to get into the coat and off Chance without flashing anyone but him. The coat was far more modest attire than her usual costume, but she still felt half-naked and appalled.
“Uh, Mr. Ianucci, sir.” Chance scrambled to his feet—no mean feat, she thought, considering how aroused he was. “I—I apologize, sir. We didn’t mean— We were just looking—”
Who Do You Love? Page 20