“What wolves?”
“That woman is hunted.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“She’s an heiress, she’s surrounded by wolves. The word has got around about her trust fund, and as usual, rumor has increased it from comfortable to astronomical. Up to now they’ve stayed away because of your protection and her sobriety. If you drop her now, and so publicly, she’s at their mercy. She’s still vulnerable, only just back in New York and finding herself. So make your choice and bear the consequences.”
The thought startled him out of his self-indulgent fury. Had he abandoned her too soon? Heartsick, he turned back to seek her out but he couldn’t see her anymore. The crowded ballroom had begun to thin out, so he should have been able to catch sight of her. Perhaps her new family had taken her home. He hoped so. “I was too angry to think straight. She promised…” And maybe someone had seen an opportunity to strike at him through Lina. If he stayed with her, she’d always be a weak spot, but if he abandoned her they’d gobble her up.
One more chance? Drug addicts always asked for that. He remembered all the chances he’d given Byron. “I thought you said you wouldn’t lose another son,” he reminded his mother.
She lifted her elegantly coiffured head, tilted it. “I remember. I’m not convinced she meant to do this. Yes, I know the drug addict’s plea. But this time it might have some merit. You need to find out.”
“Always hopeful.” He remembered that, the hope, the promises and then the dive into despair. “Maybe I know too much, remember too much.”
“You’ve been hurt badly. Byron damaged both of us. But you have to work out for yourself if you’re letting that bleed into this situation.” She glanced up. “Ah, Henry, I think I’m ready to leave now.” Her handsome escort nodded to Jon and held out his hand. Channing slipped her own into it in an unconsciously elegant gesture born of years of careful upbringing. “I’ve had a pleasant evening, but I have no desire to spoil tomorrow by doing too much tonight. Take me home, please.”
Jon stood and watched his mother leave the ballroom, as self-contained as ever. As a child he’d held her in awe. He could remember times when she’d admired his poor scholarly efforts, only for him to do better, for her sake. And it was with a sense of not wanting to let his mother down that he set out searching for Lina.
He found her enclosed in Gary’s arms outside the bank of elevators in the main foyer. He glared at the man. “Where are you going?”
Gary met his gaze steadily. “I’ve booked a room. Lina needs to sleep this off.” His hold didn’t appear to be loverlike, but as Jon watched, Lina stirred and hugged him tighter. She was half-asleep, or so high she didn’t know where she was.
Ritchie appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, striding across the foyer when he saw them. “So the best man won, did he?” He grinned at Jon.
“You’re welcome to her. Have a good time.” Jon turned abruptly, his temper rising once more. Getting into a fight didn’t seem like the right thing to do, but when he saw her enclosed in the arms of another man, he wanted to hit Gary until his face was bloody. He hated Lina for arousing this kind of emotion in him. Uncontrollable anger such as he hadn’t known for a long time surged through him. He hadn’t lost his temper like this in years. What had gotten into him?
A sleazy drug addict named Bellina Mazzanti Forde.
Chapter Seventeen
An hour later Jon had reached his apartment and showered. After turning the hot water to a sharp blast of freezing cold, his senses returned and he felt shame. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t control his emotions. He had to, for her sake. She’d been clean for years. Something must have happened to push her toward old habits. He couldn’t leave her like this. He just couldn’t.
He dragged on jeans and a polo shirt and headed back to the hotel once more. He walked, and the cool air helped to clear his head even more. He’d give her a second chance. And a third, if she needed it. The woman he’d seen, known, made love to was worth saving. If necessary he’d move back to Italy with her.
Shit, he loved her.
The revelation was still reverberating through him when he stood at the desk. He moderated his mood to calm so he could address the receptionist and get a civil answer. To his surprise the man made a phone call and told him to go straight up. Jon had fully expected to be turned away, for them to refuse to see him or let him know where they were. Not that he’d give up that easily.
He took the elevator to the tenth floor and found room 1032 without any trouble. The door opened on his third knock.
Gary Farina, jacketless and without his bow tie, but otherwise fully dressed, motioned him in with a jerk of his head.
Jon’s attention immediately went to the bed. Lina lay there, covered with a sheet and blanket.
“If you want to hit something, try the wall,” Gary said. “Listen to me first.”
“I’ve calmed down. I never should have left her.”
Jon wasn’t sure what was going on here. Had Lina passed out on him? As he watched, she turned onto her back and opened her eyes. They seemed to sparkle when she saw him. “Darling, come to bed,” she said, more clearly than earlier. “I need you.”
He and Gary were standing so close he couldn’t tell which of them she meant. But Gary said, softly, “Go to sleep, Lina.”
She pouted and sat up, the sheet falling away from her upper body. “No. Come to bed.” A gleam entered her eyes. “Both of you. I want you both.”
Gary ran his fingers through his hair, disordering the neat strands. “I don’t know what to do. Perhaps you do.”
“You want my help?”
“Please. I’m worried. But if I call a doctor, with her history they’ll arrest her.”
Jon gazed at her. Keep her awake, or not? He needed more information. “Do you know what she took?”
“Rufies. Rohypnol.”
His world shattered. “She’s been doped? Someone slipped her rufies?”
Gary glanced away and back again, obviously unsettled. “Yes, someone did. My father thought he was doing me a favor.”
“What the fuck…?” Out of his depth now, Jon waited for an explanation. He’d come expecting a long night nursing her through heroin or crack cocaine. Not rufies. “Explain. Now.”
“Jon, where are you?” Her voice came quieter now. Gary crossed the room to where a jug of clear liquid sat on a tray. He picked it up and poured a glassful. Ice clinked.
“What is that?”
“Water. Want a taste? She needs to drink.”
Gritting his teeth, Jon strode to the bed and sat so he could lift Lina. He held her close to his body while Gary held the glass for her. Between them, they persuaded her to drink. Afterward, he laid her down and covered her up. Smiling, she drifted off to sleep.
Jon stared at her, but spoke to Gary. “So tell me. How did you know what had happened to her?”
“Because he’s done it before. He drugged women and then threw them at me. He thinks it’s funny or something. The first time I did what he said. I was eighteen. He told me the woman was drunk, and what did I know?” He paused. “Sit down. She’ll be okay now, for a while.”
Reluctantly Jon did as he asked. He didn’t want her disturbed, but he needed to know the whole ugly story.
Gary crossed to the window, his hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. He stared out at the bright lights of the city that never slept. Then he turned around to face Jon, who sat in one of the chairs set before a round table, where he could see Gary and still keep an eye on Lina. He crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back. He got the feeling this was going to be a long night.
Gary studied him with cool eyes. He took a hand out of his pocket to push his glasses up his nose. “The second time it happened, I asked him. He said yeah, he sometimes got women that way. That time I found out what to do and I looked after her before taking her home the next day. She couldn’t remember the previous night. I persuaded her she’d drunk too much. Thi
s time I nearly called the cops, but it’s Lina.” He glanced toward the bed where Lina slept peacefully. “They’re more likely to arrest her for using. By the time we’d cut all the red tape and got her out, she’d have fucked half the prison holding cell. I won’t have this done again. Ever. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Why would your father do a thing like that?”
Gary’s lip curled. “See these?” He indicated his glasses. “When I was a kid, Dad convinced himself they were a liability. I tried contact lenses, but I don’t care for them. I might have laser treatment when I can find the time. Long story short, they don’t bother me like they bother my father. And he likes to get his way. That goes in business, too.” He snapped his mouth shut.
Jon went on alert. Gary was close to saying something he hadn’t meant to reveal. He kept silent, knowing the value of waiting the other man out.
It appeared that Gary knew that tactic too. He glared at Jon, but didn’t add to his statement. Instead he turned to the subject of Rohypnol, what to do to combat it, how to make sure the person was safe and well. It made Jon’s blood run cold, but so thankful that he’d changed his mind and come back. He owed his mother for making him think straight.
Lina groaned and turned over, then wished she hadn’t. Her head throbbed like a bitch. She hadn’t had a hangover this bad for a long time.
She stopped, her hand resting over her eyes. “Hangover?”
Beside her someone grunted as he woke up. She didn’t have to look to know it was Jon. “Hey, Lina. How are you?”
“Dying.” She blinked and the clouds began to clear. “Better. Bursting!”
As fast as the thought came to her she threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, finding herself in a room she’d never been in before. Jon’s voice came from the bed. “To your left.”
She found the bathroom and recognized the insignia on the towels. Slowly memory returned to her, at least partially. The dinner, the way people stared at her, and then accepted her, then very little. Patchy, distant. What the fuck had she drunk? She sat on the toilet and relief overwhelmed her.
A gentle knock sounded on the door. “Are you okay in there?”
Would she never stop peeing? “Sure. I’ll be out in a minute.” Her headache began to clear a little, but she could really use some aspirin. After she’d washed up and cleaned her teeth, using one of the fresh toothbrushes provided by the hotel, she felt somewhat better.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Jon was waiting for her. He held out a couple of pills that she eyed doubtfully.
“For your headache,” he explained, and handed her a glass of water.
Vague memories of people telling her to drink returned. “Did I drink that much last night?”
“No.” Something was wrong. She took the aspirin and handed him the half-empty glass. “Come back to bed.” She still had her underwear on. At least she wasn’t fully undressed.
He wouldn’t tell her anything until he’d tucked her under the covers. Then he told her and blew her away.
“Wait. Ritchie drugged me? Ritchie? Is my mother safe with him?”
“Safer than she is on her own. From what Gary told me, Ritchie likes to control the people he cares for. Thinks he knows best.”
“So why did he do it?”
“Because Gary wanted you. But instead of taking the gift his father presented him with, he brought you up here and put you to bed. Without joining you.”
Ritchie had given her a date rape drug. She’d taken rufies before, when she was desperate. They were barbs, not really her thing, and they only took the edge off, even with alcohol. But that was then. Now she’d reacted the way people were supposed to. Headache, loss of memory. Probably lack of inhibition. “And you came with him?”
His mouth firmed. “No. Not at first. I thought…”
“You thought I’d gone back, didn’t you?” She couldn’t blame him, not entirely. But it hurt that he hadn’t trusted her.
He didn’t avoid her gaze but met it directly. “I could lie, but I won’t, not with you. For a while, yes. I have a temper, you know that, and I thought I’d better get away for a while. I decided to walk it off, but I ended by walking home. I got a shower, changed, and came back for you.”
She lay quite still, hardly breathing. The answer to her next question was so important to her. “Do you trust me not to take drugs like I used to?”
“Yes.”
She allowed herself to breathe out in a long sigh of relief.
“I didn’t trust myself. I know what it’s like to have someone you care for eaten up like that. I didn’t know if I could do it again. But I knew I’d have to.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.” He gazed at her, eyes bright with intelligence and anticipation.
Her breath halted in her throat. Now, she had to tell him now. “I love you too.”
He reached for her and dragged her close, so his heart pounded against her chest. Hers joined in, her relief making her sag against him. “I didn’t want to tell you,” she confessed. “I didn’t want to burden you.”
“Well now we’ve burdened each other.” Cupping her chin, he brought his head down. They shared a long kiss, and the world opened for her, like a flower unfolding. Fear had no place in this relationship, nor had secrecy. She had to go all the way, trusting him as much—more—than she trusted herself. Nestling close, she thought she’d never felt so safe. And safe was what she needed right now.
He pressed her down against the mattress. She reached for him, wanting him so much she couldn’t wait. Luckily she didn’t have to.
She dragged at his clothes and, laughing, he reached down to haul his polo shirt over his head, then he shucked his jeans and underwear. She didn’t take long in joining him, her bra and panties joining his clothes on the floor somewhere. She couldn’t care less. The only thing that mattered right now was him, getting him naked and inside her. She wanted to make love, to see if it felt any different from fucking.
Pausing only to don protection, he slid his cock along her soaking crease. Love also made her want him and she hadn’t had to touch herself to find out. The luscious way his heavy erection caressed her, the slick way it slid along her labia told her everything she needed to know. And the expression in his eyes told her everything else. He meant it.
With a declaration of love there might be doubt. Was he telling her because he thought she needed it, or because he had to tell her? Nobody could fabricate that sincerity and adoration she saw now. She had no idea what she had done to deserve it, but was profoundly grateful for it.
He braced his hands either side of her head and smiled as his body entered hers, never breaking eye contact. “So how does that feel? Different?”
She smiled back up at him, then caught her bottom lip between her teeth as he grazed her sweet spot. “Yes, no, I don’t know. So good. Right from the start, so good.” She discovered the courage it took to tell him how much he meant to her and didn’t shirk from it. “Jon, I love you. I really do.”
“I know, sweetheart. Hold that thought.” He pulled out and thrust, pulled out and thrust, setting up a rhythm that seemed like second nature. She braced her shoulders against the mattress and responded. She lifted her lower body to meet him, opening her legs to encompass as much as him as she could. Lifting her legs, she rested them at the base of his back, just above his buttocks. He growled and leaned up, creating an angle that made her gasp. Its intensity was like nothing she’d ever felt before. They were entering new country. Together.
She let him watch her reactions as he brought her up to orgasm, hiding nothing. Love and trust went together as far as they were concerned. And his gaze, his frank enjoyment of her pleasure heightened her arousal, made it spike further and harder. And faster. Oh God.
His balls hammered against her ass with every stroke, marking her ascent into ecstasy. He watched her, his eyes heated, almost black, just the blue rims around them reminding her of the color of his irises. He h
eld her steady, stopped her moving away with the impact of his thrusts.
The world stilled. Everything stopped. All she could hear was his heavy pants, and then she came. The world exploded around her. She twisted, cried his name, and he gathered her up, gripped her tight and spoke her name, over and over. Her vagina clamped his cock, convulsed in long, hard pulses and she collapsed, helpless, against him. He held her safe. He’d always hold her safe. As his orgasm began, he said, “I love you,” so quietly that had she not been so close to him she wouldn’t have heard it.
Chapter Eighteen
He insisted on taking her back to his apartment afterward, refusing to take her to the Dakota. “But I have things there, things I want,” she said.
He kissed her, not caring that they were on Fifth Avenue in the middle of the day, right outside FAO Schwartz, where anyone could see them. When she laughingly protested, he pulled her close and kissed her again. She broke away. People were staring, tourists taking photos. But most of them were smiling, too. She wore her evening gown from the night before, and he had his jeans and polo shirt, creased but a lot more suitable for daytime wear.
Surprised, she discovered she didn’t care. As long as Jon was with her. He’d offered to drive her back, but the day was a fine one and she wanted to savor it. Even in high-heeled evening sandals. She’d never felt so alive, never so happy. She refused to think about the past or the future. Just the now. It was a strange feeling but one she wanted to remember forever. And hopefully, experience again. At his urging they turned down Fifth Avenue and strolled past Bergdorf’s. She glanced in the windows, thought about going in to buy some jeans or something so she could get out of her evening clothes.
They crossed the street, and he tugged on her hand. “Come in here.”
She glanced around. “Tiffany’s?”
The windows glittered with a select display of precious jewels, all exquisitely set. He wanted to buy her a keepsake? That was sweet. She wouldn’t deny him and perhaps she could buy him a pair of cuff links. They went in and he led her past the cases with matching sets, the pearls, the watches. And to a case that contained rings.
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