Unless the other driver followed the taxi's exact route, he would never find them, Lynn realized with relief. Taking her first deep breath since the chase had started, she sagged back into her seat.
“Where did you learn to do that?”
The man turned and proudly grinned at her. “For ten years I drive taxi in Mexico City.”
***
Going crazy waiting, Blade turned himself inside out for leaving Lynn alone. He should have called Cass and asked her to handhold their client.
If anything happened to her...
If anything happened to her, he would take it personally, doubly so. Not only did he owe Lynn because of her sister, but truth be told, inappropriate as this might be, he was starting to have feelings beyond the obvious physical attraction for the woman herself.
How could he not when she obviously cared so deeply for other people? When she worked so hard for her clients. Not the ones whose pockets were lined with money, but the ones who had nothing to offer but their thanks?
Lynn was as good a person as the sister whose life he'd extinguished.
A hard, cold knot settled in the pit of Blade's stomach as he realized there was nothing he could do but wait. He didn't even know when she'd left. He'd made another stop after leaving the tavern, so he'd been gone longer than he'd meant to be. Not that it was an excuse for her going off on her own. Lynn was an adult who made her own decisions, unadvised as this particular decision might be.
By the time he heard a vehicle pull up in the alley, he was nearly out of his mind with worry. He glanced out the window and saw her alight from a taxi. His heart lifted, but his agitation didn't. He threw himself into a chair and gripped its arms and tuned his mind to an inner voice that kept his emotions from erupting. Listening intently, he caught her footfalls on the outside stairs.
One minute he decided he would make no move to meet her at the door. The next, he was through the bathroom and inside her quarters.
As Lynn's key scraped the lock, he leaned against the back of the couch and crossed his arms over his chest, forcing himself to a calm he really wasn't feeling.
The moment the door opened, Lynn froze and let out a yelp. Then she blinked, and as if just then recognizing him, stepped inside.
“Blade, what are you doing in here?”
“The bigger question is what were you doing out there?”
Visibly perturbed, she flushed with color. “I left you the note.”
“I thought you were going to nap.”
“That was your idea.”
“And a damn good one.”
As she slammed the door behind her and moved closer, Lynn's voice rose to an unflattering pitch. “Stop telling me what to do. You're not the boss of me!”
Disliking her tone, he quietly said, “No, I'm merely your bodyguard.”
She threw her hat down on the couch and practically got in his face when she said, “Well, then, act like one!”
Though offended, Blade realized Lynn was deeply upset about something and so he held himself in check. “I thought that was what I was doing, trying to keep you safe. How can I when you won't even stay where I leave you? A criminal doesn't give his potential victims a time out.”
At which point, Lynn burst into tears, leaving Blade speechless.
What the hell had happened to her?
Blade watched warily as Lynn tried to get herself under control, a seeming impossibility. He reached out and hooked her behind the neck and pulled her toward him.
Still sobbing, Lynn landed against his chest. Then her arms snaked around his waist and her head landed in the crook of his neck.
What the hell! One minute she was yelling at him, the next she was using him as a human hanky. As he had the other night, he swept his hands around her back and held
her close and soothed her with long strokes down her spine until the wracking sobs became tremors. His chest tightened with some unnamed emotion as he held her.
“H-he was there, at my parents' place, waiting for me,” she said with a gasp. “He must have knocked out the guard at my high-rise so he could get into my apartment and get at my address book.”
“We need to tell Stella.”
Still scrunched against him, she nodded. “I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just wanted to check on my folks. That's why I'm wearing my own clothing, so as not to shock them. When I left to come back here, the taxi driver saw the car pull out after us. We evaded him so he doesn't know about this place. He was driving a silver Taurus, Illinois plate number PKM 363.”
“If that was even his car,” Blade murmured, thinking about how easily Johnny Rincon could have lifted one. And wondering if Johnny'd had enough time to drive across town and lay in wait for Lynn.
Lynn shuddered against him one last time and lifted her head. Staring down into her gray eyes, cloudy with fear, lashes spiked with tears, he wanted in the worst way to make her forget the terrible thing that had happened to her. He wanted to make her feel safe.
Happy.
His.
And for a moment, unable to stop himself from brushing his mouth over hers, Lynn was his.
She raised on tiptoe, even through their garments her tight nipples creating intense sensations along his chest. Then she slid her arms up around his neck, where her fingernails left a trail of gooseflesh.
Groaning, Blade took possession of her mouth as he wanted to take possession of the rest of her. His body fired at her lush softness pressed against him. His need to do something about his instant erection grew until desire nearly overpowered him, but he fought so that he wouldn't do what he shouldn't. Still, he couldn't resist drawing out the kiss, couldn't stop his hands from touching her possessively.
She was melting into him, sighing against his mouth, her worries apparently
forgotten.
Well, he couldn't forget.
Gently, Blade once more pushed Lynn away from him without releasing her. Disappointment flickered across her features only to disappear in a neutral expression that hid whatever she was thinking. Her lawyer's face? But as usual, he noted, her eyes gave her away. She was confused. Hurt.
“You know I want to keep you safe, right?” he asked softly.
“Yes, of course. As a favor to Stella.”
“Leave Stella out of this. I don't want anything more to happen to you.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then you won't do anything foolish again, right?” he pressed.
“Depends on whose definition of foolish we're using.” Her expression stubborn, Lynn backed off.
Blade tried using logic with her. “Would you agree that if we were talking about a legal defense, you would have one over me.”
“What's your point?”
“That I'm a lot more familiar with dangerous situations and how to deal with them than you are.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Your idea of dealing with my situation is to do nothing?”
“Protecting you is nothing?”
“I didn't say that.”
“How about giving up sleep to dig through your office files for a lead on your abductor?” he asked. “That was barely twelve hours ago. Was that nothing?”
“Well, no.”
“And my going back to the old neighborhood to find out if anyone saw Johnny Rincon around this weekend, is that nothing?”
She gaped at him for a moment before demanding, “Why didn't you tell me where you were going?”
“I figured you would insist on coming along. Which, by the way, I wouldn't have allowed.”
“You wouldn't have allowed?”
“For your own good.”
She swallowed hard and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Not wanting to argue, Blade said, “We don't have to leave for work for an hour. We could both use some down time. Not that I'm telling you what to do.”
With that, he left Lynn to her thoughts and went back to his own quarters wondering if she'd learned anything from her scar
e that afternoon. She was certainly determined to be her own woman.
Part of her appeal, he supposed. She had guts and kept him guessing. One minute she wanted to be in charge, the next she wanted to depend on him.
Which made him think about the powerful physical attraction between them. Lord, he was only human. He didn't know how much more of comforting her he could take, not without doing something about it. Even as he wondered what it would be like to let go and lose himself in her, Blade knew he would be taking advantage if he made love to Lynn.
She still didn't know the whole truth about how her sister had died.
A truth that would make her look differently at him. With distrust, perhaps hatred.
A truth he didn't want her to know.
Not ever.
***
After driving around the north side until the damn car ran out of gas, he abandoned it. Just wiped it free of his prints, got out at the intersection where it had refused to move on green and walked away.
Just as he'd figured she would go back to her office, he'd been right about the bitch showing at her parents' place. But now that she was forewarned, she probably wouldn't step a foot back in that house.
Where would she go? What the hell was she doing with herself while he was going nuts wondering if things were coming back to her, enough to pin the crime on him.
He'd wanted to terrorize her to show her the error of her ways. He'd wanted to strip her of everything she thought she knew about fairness and replace it with an education in revenge. He'd wanted her to be so certain that he would kill her that she would get down on her knees and beg for mercy.
Maybe then, knowing she was broken as she should be, he would have spared her.
But not now.
Not when she continued to defy him at every turn.
Not when she kept cheating him of his victory.
Someone knew where she was holed out. Stella Jacobek. So what if she was a cop, she was a woman first.
Smiling at the new direction his thoughts took, he was certain there had to be a way to make her talk.
Chapter Eight
“Three wild Jacks from the suburbs were lost trying to find their way through Chicago and decided the best way to get help was to go in different directions,” The Amazing Cassandra told the volunteer who'd joined her on stage at Club Undercover.
Having recovered from her emotional outburst, Lynn was glad to be keeping busy, even if it was working as a waitress. While delivering a tray of drinks to a table, she kept an ear out for Cass's patter that accompanied her card trick.
“The first one to get help would come rescue the others.” Cass waved the three cards from the deck she was holding. “So off they went.”
Cass certainly had the audience involved, Lynn thought, as she set down a beer in front of a customer. He was staring out to the stage, fixated on the vision in scarlet, and grinning like an idiot. As were most of the male customers, she noted, even those with dates.
“All right, sir, would you place one Jack on top of the pack,” Cass said, “one in the middle and the last Jack on the bottom. Then cut the pack.”
Finished distributing the drinks, Lynn glanced up as Cass made a big show of waving a wand over the deck, adding a little hip action that drew laughs from the crowd. Then she turned the pack face up and spread them to show three Jacks together near the center.
“The friends got back together and all came to Club Undercover for some hot music and dancing! Maestro!” Cass called to the deejay.
Music blasted the room and the audience cheered as Cass took a bow, her wide smile lighting her face. She was used to this, Lynn thought. She ate it up. And she had incredible chemistry, not only with men but with the women, as well. Despite her stunning good looks, Cass had a way about her that was non-threatening.
A realization that made Lynn wonder why she was working in a small club rather than on the professional stage.
The grinding sounds of techno-rock filled up the space and Lynn wondered about getting earplugs. That might help her nerves, but how was she supposed to hear the customers' orders? She rushed back to the bar to fill another.
As Blade set down two Cosmopolitans on her tray, he caught her gaze. Heat sizzled all the way down to her toes. Embarrassment be damned. She was hot for him and didn't seem to be able to help herself even if he was in complete control of himself. Control, right. She guessed his need to be in authority extended to his libido, because once more, though she knew he'd been turned on as much as she, he'd ended the embrace before they could get carried away.
Carried away... that wasn't her.
How had this happened? she wondered. If ever there was a mismatch waiting to happen, they were it.
“You need something else?”
Lynn blinked and looked down at the tray. He'd added a daiquiri, a beer and four Jell-O shots. “That's it,” she said, a bit breathless.
At least that was it for the drinks. What she needed was... what? Him? In her life... in her bed... in her heart?
Or maybe he was already there, she thought recklessly, as she turned away from the bar and slowly made her way through the standing crowd toward the tables.
This didn't make any sense, and yet twice now, she'd turned to Blade in distress. Any other man would have taken advantage of the situation, but not Blade. Was it really a control issue, though, or was he simply acting honorably?
Having hated her volatile home life while growing up, Lynn had always longed for a quiet, cultured man, one with whom she could share her love of the arts. Blade's idea of great art was probably a wall mural, great music undoubtedly a jam session on the streets. But she didn't care. As to the rest, being a product of an environment where he'd needed to prove himself, spending his young adulthood in the military, Blade himself could be volatile. She always felt that possibility simmering under his quiet surface.
On the other hand, he could be nurturing, she thought, as the music switched to something quieter, more haunting. Don't Turn Off the Lights. Enrique Iglesias.
That was it, she supposed. Vulnerable as she was, she couldn't resist what Blade offered. No matter that she'd never wanted to depend on anyone but herself, danger made her lose her perspective and respond instinctively.
After distributing the drinks and Jell-O shots, she took a food order from the next table, then went over to the computer and carefully entered each item. This part of the job wasn't as confusing as she'd feared it might be. The hardest part was being on her feet for so many hours. Too bad she'd never been into sensible shoes.
All her orders taken care of for the moment, she decided a break was in order. Todd, the waiter who'd showed her the ropes the day before, stopped next to her to use the computer.
“I need a break,” she said. “Can you cover me?”
“No problem.”
The ladies' lounge was a haven with comfortable upholstered chairs designed to give a girl relief from aching feet. When Lynn entered, Cass was freshening up her make-up before the wall mirror whose frame was studded with fake gemstones—jewel tones being the predominant club color scheme.
“Hey, that audience loved you,” Lynn said, plopping down in an emerald green upholstered chair.
Cass fluffed a brush over her cheeks, then spun around on her stool. “They love being toyed with. That was an amateur's trick, and if they thought about it, they would get it,” Cass admitted. “Unfortunately, I don't have a whole lot to work with.”
“Self-taught?”
“Actually, I was once Max Street's assistant.” Her expression darkened. “But that was in another lifetime.”
“Maxwell Street?” Lynn had caught his television special the winter before. “His illusions are incredible. You were in the big time.”
“And you're wondering how I landed here.” Cass looked around the empty room as if wanting to make certain there was no one to overhear. “Unfortunately, I arrived here via prison, Lynn. I was convicted of making a valuable necklace disappear.�
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“I don't believe it. Your being a thief, that is.”
“Thanks.” Cass shrugged. “I did time for a theft I didn't commit. Someday I'll clear my name, though. I just haven't figured out how. But I have to do it. I have to be able to hold my head high again.”
“You should hold your head high now,” Lynn told her. “You know the truth even if the authorities don't.”
“Yes, I do.”
Because Cass seemed sad anyway, Lynn changed the subject. “What other magic tricks can you do?”
“Illusions,” Cass corrected. “They're not really tricks. You make the audience think they're seeing what they want to see, when all the time you have something else entirely up your sleeve.”
“I'm an illusion? Melinda Parker, that is.”
Cass laughed. “My finest work.”
“Maybe I should think about doing more with that.”
“Meaning?”
“I need resolution of my situation, Cass, whatever that takes.”
“Lynn, be careful. Let the police do their job.”
“The police have rules about how they conduct themselves. Usually I do, too, since I'm an officer of the court. But in this case, I'm the victim, dammit! I don't want to play by the rules if that means I get to be a fugitive much longer.”
“What does Blade think about this?”
“I haven't told him.” Lynn shrugged. “I'm sure he wouldn't approve.”
Lynn thought about that televised magic special and wondered how much Cass had picked up from her former employer. She remembered Maxwell Street had been able to hypnotize people, make them reveal information they'd claimed not to remember otherwise.
“Too bad you're not into hypnosis, too.”
“Who needs to be hypnotized?”
“Me. I need my mind opened,” she joked. “Then maybe I could remember everything and put the guy who grabbed me behind bars before he can make good on his threats.”
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