She hurriedly guided him into herself, and Lex grabbed her buttocks as she curled her other leg around his hips and they crashed back against the mirror. With near-blind passionate hunger, a desperate need to find himself, to find her, he thrust up into her. She threw her head back, hair cascading down her back as she clung her arms around his neck.
This was one thing that felt true, real, right…and he pumped into her, fast, repeatedly, supporting her weight as she gasped, one hand sliding on the steamy mirror the other flying back to grip the railing as she came with a sharp cry, just as the bell clanged onto their floor.
CHAPTER 12
Stumbling backward into the room, kissing, they backed clumsily toward the bed, door slamming shut behind them. Lex dropped Jenna onto the covers, lifted her dress over her head and removed her panties. She moved her hands to his hips, slid his pants down his powerful thighs, exhilaration burning in her chest. “All of you,” she whispered. “I want to see all of you.”
It was turning to dusk outside, the vibrant flickering wattage of Vegas pulsing hotter as the sky over the desert dimmed to mute purples and browns. The light from the window was surreal, and it made him look like something from an erotic dream—Mediterranean skin olive and smooth, his muscles pumped with energy, literally vibrating for the same kind of release she’d had in the elevator. His hair hung in a loose lick over his forehead, and his features were predatory, etched with hunger for her, eyes fierce dark emeralds—something had shifted in him. Something had been set loose—primal and aggressive. And hot damn, she liked it.
Jenna grasped his wrists, yanked him down onto the bed and straddled him, hair falling wild over her shoulders. His eyes grew smoky, lids lowering as she sunk down onto his erection like a hot, wet glove, moving her hips until he groaned, grabbed her buttocks hard with powerful hands. He was still rock-hard from the elevator, and she was heating, tingling, for release all over again.
And with sudden shock, Jenna came, an explosion of muscular contractions that seized her body with glorious, gut-punching power. Lex couldn’t hold back a second longer. He swung her roughly around onto all fours, took her from behind, squeezing her breasts, pulling her into his pelvis as he thrust and she arched her back, lustrous hair dark against creamy skin.
Lex’s world shifted as he came with such fierce release that it shattered his body and mind, obliterating everything he’d just learned upstairs, and they fell back, breathless, sated. Lex held her, stroking her hair, his body still shimmering with latent energy, knowing, at the same time, that he’d never be the same. He’d found truth. In more ways than one. And not in the way he’d expected. Because the real truth lay right here in his arms, and so did his future—if he played it all right. And he realized, with irony, that while he’d come to Vegas seeking his past, instead he’d found the road that led ahead. Perhaps that’s what he’d wanted all along.
Jenna rolled onto her side and traced her fingers over his abs, down the thick line of hair that ran to his groin, and she smiled wickedly as he began to swell again in front of her eyes.
“Careful,” he whispered.
“Why?” she tickled the backs of her nails a little lower.
“Because I’m not done with you yet.”
Jenna moved her hand to his groin, took hold of him, slid her knee up over his legs. Rolling closer, she moved her lips close to his, breasts pressing against his chest. “Did you mean it, Lex?” she murmured against his mouth.
“Mean what?”
She inhaled sharply as she felt him enter her.
“When…you said—” her voice came out thick, breathy as he moved, slow strokes that made her eyes roll back into her head “—that…you loved me? Was it true?”
He swung himself on top of her, deepened his thrust. She couldn’t concentrate.
“Jenna—” his voice was husky “—you are the one thing in my life right now that is true.”
“Boy, you’re one sorry puppy, Lex Duncan, considering…ah—” He thrust hard and she arched. He came quickly. And they sank back, glowing with perspiration.
“Yes,” he whispered up to the ceiling in the growing dark. “It is true.”
He did love her.
He felt her hand slip into his, squeeze, and Lex’s heart swelled to busting point.
* * *
“It’s this,” Lex said, tilting his chin toward the skyline. “This has got to be what people love about this place.” They were sitting immersed in a hot tub full of bubbles, drinking from champagne flutes, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window at the Vegas night.
“Making love?” she said with a smile, hair piled loosely up on her head, tendrils wet, skin flushed.
He slanted his eyes to hers. “No, the fact that magic can happen,” he whispered.
She studied him in silence. “What happened to you today, Lex?”
“What makes you think anything happened?
“You’re…different. I don’t know how to describe it. Intense. Edgy. Alive in a way that almost feels…dangerous.”
His features turned serious. He trailed his fingers along her collarbone. “I found out who my father was today, Jenna,” he said softly.
“What?”
He turned to look out over the view again, silent. “I was also informed that Sara Duncan was not my real mother.”
She sat up. “Lex?”
He smiled ruefully. “You’re so beautiful, Jenna.” He glanced up into her eyes. “Do you think we could make it work? Do you think we could try?”
Emotion burned fast and sharp into her eyes. “Is…is this a proposal of some kind?” she whispered.
“Do you think you could love me, Jenna?”
She looked at him for several long moments, and his eyes grew worried.
“I think,” she whispered, “that I fell in love with you the first time I saw you on—”
“Please, do not say on that god-awful auction stage.”
“No, Lex, on that drought-brown football field. With your boys. I saw a leader, a man with an incredibly strong moral compass. And…” Emotion tightened her throat. “You made me think I…might want a family of my own one day. I’d never thought that before. You made me want more, Lex, something very different to what I have.”
He glanced away sharply, features twisting, and Jenna saw tears glisten in his eyes…real damn tears. In her FBI agent. “God,” he whispered, not daring to look at her. “You have no idea…absolutely no idea what that does to me.”
“Tell me,” she said softly, reaching out, cupping his jaw, turning his face back to hers. “Tell me about your mother, Lex. About your father.”
He inhaled deeply. “Mercedes Epstein claims to be my mother, Jenna.”
“What?”
“She said she paid Sara Duncan to register me in Reno and to raise me as her own son.”
Her mouth fell open. “I…I don’t understand. Does that mean Frank Epstein is—”
“My father? No. Mercedes apparently had an affair with a man named Tony Ciccone. You ever heard of him, Jenna?”
“Yes,” she said very quietly. “He was the gangster who disappeared, the subject of one of the FBI’s biggest manhunts at the time. He had a crazy temper, was a violent mob enforcer.”
“And he was my father.”
She looked at him, dumbstruck.
“Yeah,” he said with a wry twist in his mouth. “Ironic, huh? The straight-shooting, button-up law enforcement officer has one of the most infamous mobsters in Nevada history as his dad. How’s that supposed to make me feel, Jenna? What of that monster lurks in my DNA, under my skin, in the beat of my heart?”
“Lex, listen to me. That single-mindedness, that ferocity that was apparently Tony Ciccone, you might have it in you, but you chose to use it for good, for justice.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it? They say that the profile of a cop is often closest to that of a criminal.”
“But one is for good and the other bad.”
He snorted. “I
f it were so simple.”
“Hey,” she said, leaning forward. “I know how blurred those lines get, remember? I was the one hiding stuff from homicide investigators. You showed me there was a line though and that I had to pick a side. I did, Lex. And you yourself, long ago, picked your side, too—the side of justice, when that Reno sheriff…what was his name?”
“Tom McCall, Washoe Country sheriff.”
“Yes, when Tom pulled you back from trouble, he showed you where that line lay, Lex. He set you on track, and just think of all those kids that you’ve done the same for. You might have your father’s genes in you, but maybe he never got the same chance that you did back in his own childhood.” She gazed at him intently. “Maybe he didn’t find a Tom McCall, but he found a Frank Epstein and mob family instead. What you do, Lex, is honorable. And you told me yourself that you do it because you love.”
And God he loved her for reminding him of this, telling him what he so desperately needed to hear. For being here for him, nothing to hide between them any longer.
“Tell me, Lex. Everything.”
She sat quietly and listened to the rest of his story, the whole story, including how he’d seen the man he believed had murdered Sara Duncan.
“How come you didn’t go after him right away?”
“Because I need to do it right—I want a charge of murder, and I want it to stick. For that to happen, I still need evidence. All I have is a memory of a voice, and a conviction that Markowitz is the man I saw.”
“What about Mercedes’s story?”
“She could deny she said anything. Besides, she doesn’t know who actually killed Sara, or so she says.”
“What are you going to do?”
“First I see if Ciccone’s remains really are down in that mine shaft. That’s step one, hard evidence that can be used to have the Sara Duncan homicide case reopened. Then I hand this case over, because I am a victim and a witness. Next Ciccone’s body goes for autopsy, and Mercedes is brought in for questioning based on what she told me. It’ll have to be done soon if she’s as ill as she claims to be.”
“So Epstein doesn’t know any of this?”
“Mercedes says she kept it from him.”
Jenna snorted softly. “That’s so ironic—Roman Markowitz, Tony Ciccone’s old henchman, now working for Epstein as his security head…and neither Mercedes or Frank Epstein know.”
“It looks that way.”
“It’s weird. Because I know a little about Roman Markowitz through the event planning business,” said Jenna. “And from what I understand, Markowitz got his break in the security business at the old Frontline.”
“Well, if he was working for Epstein back then, he’d have had to have been doing Ciccone’s bidding on the sly, the bastard.”
Jenna shook her head. “Mercedes is your mother…I still can’t believe it. Do you think that’s why she came to my auction, to see you?”
“So she says.”
“And it’s why she supports all those orphan charities?”
“Again, it’s what she claims.”
“I feel sorry for her, Lex, in a way.”
“Why, she gave her kid away? Basically paid cash to get rid of me, because she didn’t have the stomach for an abortion?”
“And she’s been haunted by guilt ever since. I think deep down she’s a good woman, Lex.”
“You know something, Jenna—you’re generous. With your heart. To a fault, even. You don’t need money when you have real wealth like yours.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Lex, not one person in my life has ever said anything so beautiful, so meaningful to me. Thank you,” she whispered.
He took her into his arms, all slippery soap bubbles and fragrance, and crushed his mouth to hers. “Jenna—” he said pulling back abruptly as it dawned on him. “How’d you know I’d be here, at the Desert Lion?”
“Rita told me. I went to find you, to…” Her eyes darkened. “Geez, Lex, I almost forgot. I wanted to know if you’d heard about the Lucky Lady, Marion Robb. I read about her in the morning paper.”
“What about her?”
“She was murdered. Last night. Her throat was slit.”
He sat up abruptly. “What?”
“Yes, I thought—”
Urgency crackled through him. “I’ve got to get you out of this hotel, Jenna. Get dressed, at once. When we walk out that door, you act like nothing is wrong. Understand?”
“What are you saying, Lex?”
“Marion Robb’s death cannot be coincidence. Someone must have been following us, learned I was looking for answers and was worried because Lucky Lady knew something. Something that would lead me back here, to Markowitz. Quick, move!”
“You…you think Markowitz knows you’re onto him?” she said, stepping out of the tub, grabbing a towel.
“God alone knows.” Lex pulled on his pants. “Marion didn’t give me anything other than a hint at old mob connections, but I believe she had more to tell. She clammed up suddenly when I told her about that cartoon logo on the Cadillac—she knew something, Jenna, and it scared her. I was going to go back, build her trust, ease her into talking, over time.”
Time that had just run out for her.
Lex grabbed his shirt. “If Markowitz is responsible for slitting her throat, he either believes I got something out of her, or she might have told him she’d stayed mum, and he killed her to keep it that way. Markowitz might still believe he is safe from me, as long as he doesn’t make a stupid move. But I’m not taking chances, Jenna. I want you out of this hotel, now.”
He buttoned up his shirt as he called Perez. “I need you at the Desert Lion.”
“I’m here, right outside. Followed Rothchild after telling her where you were.” She yawned theatrically into the phone. “What’s taking you two so long? What in the hell are you up to, Duncan?”
“I’ll explain—”
“Heard that one before, partner. Not buying it again.”
“Perez,” he said urgently. “I’m into something. I want you to take Jenna home, far away from me. Close protection detail. Understand?”
“Duncan—”
“I believe I know who killed my mother. He’s in this hotel, and he might get wind I’m onto him. That’ll make him a very dangerous man, and I don’t want Jenna anywhere near me if and when that happens. I think he’s behind the death of Marion Robb, owner of the Lucky Lady psychic store on East—”
“Duncan, this is—”
“Just listen to me, Perez. Contact the LVMPD. Tell them the Lucky Lady homicide case is ours. Then get someone to look into a man named Roman Markowitz. He’s security head at the Desert Lion. He apparently goes way back with Epstein, to the Tony Ciccone days. Maybe Markowitz whacked the psychic himself or had someone do it for him. Tell whoever takes the case to see if they can link Markowitz to that homicide. DNA, whatever. Anything.”
“And where are you going?” Her tone had changed. She was sensing the seriousness in him.
“To find Ciccone’s body.”
Silence.
“You still there, Perez?”
“Are you okay, Duncan? You haven’t lost it on me have you?”
“Jenna will fill you in.” He hung up, felt for his weapon, chambered a round and held it ready, under his jacket, knowing the eye-in-the-sky would be on them the instant they exited the door. He took Jenna’s arm, ushered her out the door and they started moving swiftly along soft carpet to the elevators.
Two suits appeared at the other end of the passage. Security. The men started to move toward them.
Lex had to force a smooth, casual pace. He pressed the elevator button, watching the men nearing in his peripheral vision. The elevator bell pinged, doors opening painfully slowly. He ushered Jenna in, jabbed the lobby button, pulse accelerating.
The elevator doors closed just as the security men passed by.
Two floors down, another security employee got into the car, but so did a middle-aged couple. Le
x positioned Jenna behind the couple, using them as cover. Tense, they stood in silence as the car hummed slowly down. The doors opened. Lex put his arm around Jenna, sticking very close to the middle-aged couple, keeping them between the security employee and Jenna.
They exited the massive hotel doors and were hit by a wall of dark, damp heat. Perez was there, in her SUV, engine running. She leaned over and flung open the passenger door.
“Do you think any of this has anything to do with The Tears of the Quetzal, or Candace’s death?” Jenna asked quietly as Lex held the door open for her.
“All I know is that ring led me down this road, Jenna.” In more ways than one. Lex glanced at his partner, his eyes saying it all: Be careful. Candace Rothchild’s killer is still out there and someone still wants to hurt Jenna.
“Lex—” Jenna’s eyes were big, dark. A man could lose himself in those eyes “—be careful, okay? I…I have plans for us.”
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” he bent down to kiss her quickly. “I’ve got some plans of my own.”
* * *
“Agent Duncan forgets—” Frank Epstein said quietly, observing Lex and Jenna exit his hotel “—that everyone watches everyone in Vegas, all the time. And,” he added, “some men even watch their wives.”
Roman Markowitz studied his boss in silence, his posture rigid.
Frank pinched the bridge of his nose, replaying in his mind what he’d witnessed on the monitor through the private feed into his own living room. None of what had transpired between Mercedes and Lex Duncan was news to him. Frank knew his wife was dying—he was in touch with Mercedes’s doctor and paid him very well to keep him informed. He’d also known from day one that Tony Ciccone had been screwing his wife, that she’d tried to hide the pregnancy from him. He’d have whacked the little Italian bastard himself if Mercedes hadn’t done it for him. And he loved her for it.
A Game of Deception Page 17