“I never even noticed him.” She met Blade's gaze and raised her voice to be certain he heard her above the music. “And I didn't send those tickets. I trashed the envelope addressed to him.” Frowning, she remembered being angry and distracted but couldn't visualize the act of dropping the envelope in the can. “Well... that's what I meant to do anyway. Maybe I left it on the counter and it got messengered out by mistake.”
Blade scowled harder. “Just stay away from Johnny.”
“He's not in my section,” she said through clenched teeth. Why did Blade have to put her back up over the situation? Her voice rose another notch as she asked, “What are you doing up here, anyway?”
“Other than keeping my eyes on you? I'll be bartending.”
“Then maybe you'd better get to work.”
“Sh-h!” A nearby customer hushed them and gave them a poisonous look.
And as Blade stalked to the bar, she glanced over at the far end where Johnny sat.
She couldn't tell for sure, not with him wearing the sunglasses added to the darkened room, but she imagined he was staring at her.
He was simply curious, she told herself in an attempt to steady her pulse.
He couldn't possibly recognize her.
***
The moment Maria Savage left the stage to take her break, the orders started flowing in, and Blade became busier than he liked. He wanted to keep one eye on Johnny, the other on Lynn, which would be near impossible if she followed his orders and stayed away from the dangerous man.
His orders. She didn't want to take them. On the one hand, he couldn't blame her. On the other he wanted to shout that this was her life, for God's sake, and was she so crazy that she would risk it as a matter of independence?
“I hear some people have been asking about me.”
Setting his jaw, Blade turned to face his old enemy. “Johnny, I'm surprised to find you here. I thought Skipper's was more your speed.”
“Skipper's don't have Maria Savage. Maybe you can make an introduction... for old time's sake.”
“Talk to someone in her entourage. Her bodyguard.”
“Yeah, she needs someone to guard that body. It's almost as fine as the one on the chickee you were sweet-talking a while back. You remember her—the waitress in blue sequins.”
“You mean Melinda,” Blade said, being sure to use the fake name.
Johnny shrugged and Blade wanted in the worst way to know what he was thinking. Maybe that's why he wore the sunglasses even at night, even inside, so no one could read him.
“You could introduce me to this Melinda.”
“Don't think so.”
“Why? Does she have a bodyguard, too? You, maybe? Now that makes her even more interesting.”
Johnny laughed and Blade wanted to deck him, to hang him up to dry, and if he
were the one who'd been stalking Lynn, to cut him again. He told himself he was more civilized than that, but part of him disagreed.
“Back to my observation,” Johnny said.
“Which one?”
“About the big interest in my whereabouts this week. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?”
Blade spotted Lynn approaching the bar. “Why would I?”
What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn't she cooperate?
“All this interest started right after your visit to Skipper's, Blade, buddy. Coincidence?”
“Some people believe there's no such thing,” Lynn said, stopping at the bar right next to Johnny. “If you ask me, coincidences happen all the time. I need a couple of Pellegrinos, with ice,” she told Blade as she directly faced his prime suspect.
Trying not to glower at her lest Johnny pick up on it, Blade grabbed a couple of glasses and filled them with ice.
“You're Melinda.”
“Either you're a mind reader or someone is telling tales out of school.”
The way she was leaning into the bastard made Blade nervous. He knew she was flirting to get him to talk, trying to get close to make sure his voice got picked up.
Johnny laughed. “School. That's a good one. I never finished school, honey, but I can keep a girl like you satisfied. How about you and me—”
“No.” Blade thunked down the two glasses and bottles of designer water in front of Lynn. “You'd better see to your customers.”
Her satisfaction was reflected in her smile. “Now that I got what I need, I will.”
“Not so fast, honey.”
When Johnny put a hand on Lynn to stop her from moving off, Blade saw red. “Let go of her.”
“She yours?”
“I'm no one's!” Lynn protested, which made Blade even angrier.
“Why don't you and me talk about changing that?” Johnny suggested.
When he slipped an arm around her shoulders, Blade lost it. Without thinking, he launched himself up over the bar and onto the other man.
A woman screamed as they went flying and bounced off a booth and onto the floor. As they rolled, Blade felt Johnny reaching around behind himself, as if going for his gun. Blade flashed a hand down his leg and a second later pulled it back up holding the knife.
Slamming Johnny onto his back, his gun hand trapped under him, Blade pressed the knife tip to Johnny's good cheek.
“You made a mistake coming here and causing trouble,” Blade growled.
“All right, so I made a mistake. Let me up and I'll get out.”
A woman in the nearby booth yelled, “Someone call the police!”
“No police!” Johnny yelled back.
Blade realized they were surrounded by employees. Though he was tempted to nick the bastard as a warning, instead of drawing blood he withdrew the knife and stood. Lynn stepped next to him and put a hand on his arm.
Gideon told Par-Tee, “Get him out of here.”
“Watch him,” Blade warned, “he's armed.”
The bouncer grabbed Johnny and had him on his feet in seconds, his other hand snaking under the loose suit jacket and relieving him of an impressive-looking handgun, which he turned over to Logan. “Let's you and me ambulate.”
“Fine.”
But as they started off, Par-Tee's meaty hand surrounding his upper arm, Johnny glanced back, sunglasses still in place. His head turned from Blade to Lynn, then back to Blade, and then he mouthed, You'll be sorry.
***
“The two of you should take a break,” Gideon suggested, indicating the door behind the bar, which led to the small office where the recorder was set up. “I'll handle things here.”
The customers needed handling, Lynn realized. They were abuzz with the incident and she burned with embarrassment under their curious stares.
She barely waited until they got inside and Blade closed the door before whirling on him. “I could have handled Johnny Rincon without the violence!”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he returned, “You don't know that.”
“We had dozens of witnesses, for heaven's sake. Given the circumstances, what's the worst he could have done?”
“He was touching you!”
How possessive of Blade. Good thing he hadn't seen Churchill grabbing her butt, which had been a whole lot more personal, Lynn thought. He might have wrung the man's neck right on the spot.
“And that was worth a major incident?” she demanded hotly. “For that you had to pull a knife?”
“He was going for his gun.”
Which was the reason she was so angry with Blade. Because he'd put himself in danger, because he could have been killed. “Because you attacked him!”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Reacting like you did under the circumstances went beyond protection, Blade.”
“Maybe it did.”
She figured that was about as close as she was going to get to an admission of any kind from him... but to what exactly was he admitting?
“I told you to stay away from Johnny in the first place,” he reminded her.
She
heard his anger, just as sharp as hers, if more under control. “I didn't send him the tickets,” she said again. “But he was here. No way was I going to pass up the opportunity to get his voice. I'm sick of this subterfuge. I want my life back!”
He couldn't hide his knee-jerk reaction from her. He looked as if she'd slapped him in the face.
But before she could soften the blow, he asked, “You want your life back so much that you chanced losing it?”
“Oh, for heaven's sake, I was surrounded by testosterone—Gideon, Logan, you. And Johnny didn't recognize me. He was simply trying to provoke you by using me, because you made him think there was something going on between us.”
“Isn't there?”
Blood rushed up her neck and into her face. She had to admit there definitely was something going on for her, whether or not it was sensible, whether or not they fit into each other's lives.
And who said they had to, anyway?
“Every time you make me think you feel something for me,” she said, “you pull back.”
“A bodyguard getting involved with his subject would put her at more risk.”
Moving closer, she stared up into his face which he'd schooled into a neutral expression. “Is that the real reason, Blade? Is it?”
Her anger had quickly cooled. The way he'd responded to Johnny had been personal—not because of his own history but because of her. Because he did care about her.
Could it be more than caring? Could he be as confused about what he was feeling as she was?
“We should get back to work,” Blade said, though he didn't make a move to open the door.
“Why? Are you afraid to talk about it?” Lynn didn't care if this wasn't an appropriate time for personal business, she wanted answers. She wanted something that explained why she opened herself to a man she barely knew. Why she wanted more. “You say you care about me. How much?”
“More than makes me comfortable.”
Moving into him so close there was barely breathing room, she murmured, “Maybe we're not supposed to get too comfortable with each other.”
With a groan, Blade snaked an arm behind her back and pulled her up against him. Lynn gasped, but before she could take another breath, his mouth crushed hers in a torrid kiss.
Hazily, she let herself go, let herself be engulfed in something that had no explanation, after all. What she felt for Blade was as old as time itself. She was a woman and he was a man and she wanted him. It was that simple. That natural. That crazy.
Melting against him, Lynn imagined them taking it to the next level. She was ready, so, so ready, especially when he let one hand travel downward, the other around to a breast and her body instantly quickened. His fingers traversed the sequined material, and the exposed flesh of her breasts quivered in anticipation. Then his fingers touched
her and sensation shot through her...
... and once more he pulled away from her.
Disappointed, Lynn took a shaky breath and scraped the hair back from her face and then saw his fingers had gotten tangled in the wire she was wearing. He pulled them free and they stared at each other for a moment before he tucked it back in hiding. Another frisson of need washed through her.
Then Lynn said, “I guess we forgot ourselves for a moment.” Not particularly wanting everyone to be aware of what had gone on in here, she indicated the recorder. “Know how to work that thing?”
Of a like mind, Blade reset the recorder to where they'd entered the office, and then they got back to work. Thankfully things had simmered down and Maria Savage was back on stage and no one but Gideon and Logan seemed to notice their return.
Even so, Lynn felt uneasy, as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Or as if someone were watching her.
Churchill?
Every chance she got, she peered at the man, but he never seemed to be paying her any mind save the few times she actually approached the table.
Why, then, did she get the feeling that someone was looking over her shoulder?
Cooper? Could the creepy carnivore be here somewhere, imagining how he would make mincemeat out of her given the chance?
He wasn't seated with the VIPs, that was for certain. His table still remained empty and she didn't see anyone who could be him here on the VIP floor. The rest of the club was a different story, however. It was packed and thrown pretty much in the dark during the performance, and if he was out there somewhere, watching and waiting for an opportunity to get at her, then she wouldn't know because she couldn't spot him. Too many customers, too little light.
One more glance around assured her that point-men Blade, Gideon and Logan were spread around the VIP area in a large triangle. Being surrounded by so much testosterone was comforting.
As she continued to serve food and drinks throughout the performance, Lynn felt the unease settle into something less threatening. After recording two suspects, one being ousted from the club, the rest of the night seemed anti-climactic.
The concert ended to a standing ovation. Gloria Savage sang three encores, and then she was gone. Looking down, Lynn saw Cass hurrying to the backstage door, undoubtedly to see that the singer and crew got off without incident.
While half the audience left immediately, the other half lingered over a last drink and conversation and drifted away in small groups over the next half hour. It was early by club standards, barely midnight.
Lynn was so busy helping with the cleanup, she didn't even notice when Victor Churchill and his cronies left the club. When she suddenly realized they were gone, her sense of relief was tremendous.
“I'm going downstairs to check on the bar,” Blade said, once the VIP lounge was clear of customers. “And then I'll be ready to go.”
“I need to get out of this wire.”
Lynn looked around for Logan, but he, like Gideon, was downstairs, making certain that security was tight, so she headed for the office behind the bar alone.
Once there, she turned off the recorder, removed the transmitter from her thigh and unfastened the mike from her halter top. Removing the sticky tape that held the wire in place on her body was no fun process, but she gritted her teeth and did so as speedily as she could.
Now if only her efforts paid off.
Getting Johnny Rincon tonight was a bonus she hadn't counted on. Certain that she'd gotten enough of his voice so that he would either be in or out according to the forensic expert, she felt they'd done a good night's work.
She left the equipment for Logan.
Her sense of accomplishment followed her out the door into the darkened bar area. The place was unnaturally quiet. A shiver crept down her spine, but she told herself that all was well in her world tonight, that she had no immediate need for worry.
About to head for the stairs, she heard a swish behind her... like a restroom door shutting.
“Blade?” she called.
But even as she started to turn in that direction, something hard poked her in the
back and a whispered voice in her ear made her skin crawl.
“Don't turn around, don't say a word.” A click that sounded like the hammer of a revolver being pulled back was followed by his threat. “You bring anyone else into this and not only are you dead, but so is he.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ready to leave, Blade wondered what was taking Lynn so long. Was she having trouble getting out of the wire?
Thinking to help her, he started up the stairs, but when he was almost to the upper level, he heard a scuffle.
“Lynn?”
When she didn't answer, he sprinted the rest of the way, arriving in time to see the emergency exit door on the alley swinging shut.
“What the hell?”
Any remaining employees were downstairs. Any but Lynn. Why in the world would she go out into the alley?
Unless it hadn't been her idea...
He bolted for the door and crashed it open. A dark-garbed man wearing a ski mask was hauling her tow
ard a car. Blindfolded, her hands tied behind her, she stumbled and almost fell to her knees.
Blade flew forward, letting the emergency door slam shut behind him. The noise alerted the man who took one look his way before shoving Lynn toward him, and in the process, dropped car keys that flew along the ground. Lynn fell to her knees and the villain immediately beat a fast retreat down the alley on foot.
“Lynn—”
“I'm okay, I'm okay.”
Even knowing the bastard would probably get away, he couldn't leave her there like that. He helped her to her feet, then ripped off the blindfold.
“Who?” she asked. “Rincon?”
Indeed, Johnny would be the logical choice. But he had to admit, “I didn't see his face,” as he loosened the webbed strap that secured her wrists behind her back. “Get Gideon and Logan. I'm going after him!”
“Blade, no! What if he shoots at you?”
But blinded to any danger except that to Lynn, Blade was already on his way. After that head start, his chances of catching up to the man were slim to none. But you never knew when your enemy could slip up, make a mistake. And then everything could change in a heartbeat.
Catching a glimpse of Lynn's attacker down the alley, Blade put on some speed. He'd been taught several effective ways of killing a man with his bare hands, and part of him, the primal man who hadn't gotten turned off just because he'd resigned from the military, longed to use one of them.
He focused on the dark figure, allowed himself no distractions.
Slowly, the distance between them narrowed.
The other man threw a wild glance over his shoulder. He was still wearing the hood. He seemed to be searching for some escape route, and to Blade's surprise, he hopped onto the top of a big dumpster and from there reached up and caught onto the metal frame of an exterior metal fire escape. The man was in fine physical shape, Blade noted, again wondering if he was dealing with Johnny. The masked man easily swung himself up and onto the landing, then scrambled to his feet and took to the stairs.
Whoever he was, the villain made it about halfway to the top before Blade reached the dumpsters and followed his route.
Part of him wanted the bastard to try something, to pull that gun again, to give him an excuse. He'd hurt Lynn, had terrorized her and now it was time for some turnaround. Pity that he was too civilized to kill anyone except in self-defense.
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