CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Crystal, your foot is going to fall off.” Ripley nodded to her rapidly bouncing appendage.
“Oh, right.” She placed both feet on the floor and immediately her right knee resumed the frantic cadence.
He leaned forward in his seat on the couch opposite her, his eyes warm with compassion. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m fine, really. Just anxious.” She smoothed the silk of her black dress over her thighs, hoping that he didn’t catch the tremble in her hands.
The hotel room they were waiting in was luxurious and spacious, holding every amenity a young, multimillion-dollar lottery winner could ever want. A bottle of champagne rested untouched in bucket of melting ice water, and the complimentary cheese and fruit platter looked as though it was straight out of a Martha Stewart magazine, but the choking claustrophobia surrounding her prevented her from indulging in the slightest.
“You know I’ll be with you,” Ripley assured her. “And so will the rest of the team. Especially Max.”
“I know,” she responded softly, blinking back tears.
When Max had stormed out of her room, she didn’t know what type of reception she’d receive the next time they crossed paths. As the time came to gather to plan their strategy, uncertainty and fear from her vision weighed heavily in her heart. Was he going to prevent her from taking the risk? Did she dare tell him about her vision? Was he still angry at her for allowing another man to touch her?
But Max had greeted her with a soft smile and not a single mention of their argument. He placed a kiss on her cheek and squeezed her hand before calling the meeting to order. That was all.
Their primary objective was to find out who was attending the party. She was to do everything in her power to avoid direct contact with Madden. Objective two was to find out who else might be involved in Madden’s plan and what their next step might be. Once they knew exactly who and what they were up against, then they would come back better equipped to put an end to Madden’s master plan.
“Crystal’s safety is top priority,” Max had said in a tone that brooked no argument, even from her. “We’ll give you as much leeway as possible to get the intel, but the moment you smell trouble, call in reinforcements. No matter what. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, barely able to restrain saluting him. Did she wonder what had prompted his change of heart? Hell, yes. But she was too cowardly to ask. With or without his approval, her visions of the evening hadn’t changed, so the reason why didn’t matter in the end. In fact, it had the potential of adding another level of stress to the situation that could place them more in danger. No, it was best to accept his willingness to allow the mission to continue by doing her best to reassure him that she was committed to the task. “I promise. I won’t take unnecessary risks.”
“Then let’s get to it.”
The room cleared and as she was about to leave, Max grasped her by the elbow and swung her around to face him.
Tenderness warmed his gaze. Tenderness mixed with a heavy dose of fear, but he didn’t say a word as he slowly leaned in for a kiss and waited for her to meet him the rest of the way.
She answered his silent request without hesitation. He sighed into her mouth, caressing her with the softness of his lips and the gentle glide of his tongue. While his kiss was gentle, his hands were not, holding her tight as if he would never let her go.
A burst of light had flashed behind her closed eyelids and soon her mind was flooded with his memories. Memories he was projecting into her mind. The way she had looked kneeling at his feet in a puddle of espresso and broken porcelain at the café when they first met. The sunlight catching the red in her hair after he kissed her at the zoo. All the times he made her laugh, even when she didn’t want to, and the sight of her lying on the bed beside him as she slept. On and on, he fed her his memories of her and his love.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, pressing his forehead against hers. “I have every faith in your ability, and I know you would not take a risk without thinking it through. It’s just that, for the first time in my life, I have someone to live for. You’re irreplaceable, Crystal. I don’t want to lose you.”
She couldn’t speak for the lump in her throat. Max with all his wealth had the resources to give her the world, but it was the love and vulnerability in his eyes that was the most precious gift he would ever bestow upon her.
This man before her was so different from the cynical, closed-off person she had first met. That Max would never have admitted to any weakness, while this man lay his heart at her feet.
She placed her hands on either side of his face and ran her thumbs over his dark brows to his cheeks. The liquid blue flames in his eyes heated her, and with the visions of her own death running on repeat in her mind, she pressed her mouth to his to store memories of his texture and flavor. A hint of chocolate burst across her tongue. He did like his chocolate.
“I love you, Max.” She stood on tiptoe to press her cheek against his. “No matter what, remember that I love you, always.”
She felt his answering smile. “I know. You’ve always been honest with me. Sometimes to the point of pain.” He brushed the hair off her face. “When tonight is over, I’m taking you away for at least a week or two, maybe three. All I want is time to focus on you. On us.”
“That sounds nice.” Provided she survived the night.
Thanks, conscience. Why don’t you just set fire to my soul?
“I don’t suppose you’ve had a vision and know how this plays out?” he asked.
Her heart skipped a beat. To admit the truth burned the tip of her tongue, but to say it out loud had the possibility of changing the future. What if instead of her, one of the others died? What if it was Max? She wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.
She forced a smile. “Nope. I wish.”
“Guess that would be too much to expect your powers to suddenly work on demand, huh?”
Crystal tried to hold her smile as she stepped out of his arms. The action was like ripping off a Band-Aid, with a sting that lingered long afterward.
She should receive an Oscar for her cool, calm performance as she had traveled to the hotel and dolled up for the evening. The fact that she hadn’t sweated through her cocktail dress was a bloody miracle.
Please let me be wrong. Please, please, please.
Stop it. Stop it! She shook her head and tried to avoid Ripley’s worried gaze. Just because she saw her death didn’t mean it would come true. How many times had she seen her and Max making wild love in a sea of teal satin and that never happened? So what if she had a 98 percent accuracy rate? That still left a margin for error. A slim margin, but wiggle room all the same.
The shrill ring of the telephone jolted her from her thoughts and she jumped with a squeak.
Ripley shook his head. “You’re so not fooling me, doll. We can call it off.”
“We’re doing this. Are you with me or not?” She nailed him with her fiercest stare, daring him to question her judgment.
He sighed and ran a hand over his whiskered chin. “I’m in.”
“Good.” She juggled the receiver in her slippery hands and answered with a breathless, “Hello?”
“Hello, beautiful.” Dittmar’s smooth drawl oozed over the line. “Ready for me?”
“Absolutely,” she purred. “I’ll be right down.” She hung up.
Ripley got to his feet. “Showtime.” His Velcro pants split open and an orange ball of fur stood in the puddle of fabric.
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed headquarters. “We’re a go.”
“Copy,” Max answered. “Audio and visual are up and recording. Good luck, sweetheart. I love you.”
She tucked his words in her heart, wishing she could see him one last time. “I love you too.”
There was so much more she wanted to say, but she ended the call before she broke into tears and slipped the phone into her clutch. She tucked Ripley into the crook of her arm. “Come on, boy.”
Each step toward the elevator made her heart pound faster, and the deep lungsful of air she sucked in did little to help slow her pulse. She adjusted her jewelry to make sure the camera in her necklace was positioned in the exact right spot and the microphone earrings were secured.
Ripley licked her hand with his wet tongue in support. If anything, she had to keep it together for him, since he was going into the fray with her. He was going to need her as much as she needed him.
Dittmar waited for her in the lobby looking tall and handsome, as if he were a model straight from the pages of GQ in his charcoal gray suit and maroon tie. His eyes widened with appreciation when he spotted her and his gaze roved greedily over her exposed flesh. The black silk halter dress fit her to perfection, highlighting all her curves and hinted at the ones still concealed.
He licked his lips as she drew near, then did a double take when he spotted Ripley in her arms. “You’re bringing the dog?”
“Of course, silly. I can’t leave him locked in the room.” She handed him her cloak and spun around. The back of the dress lay open to the curve of her buttocks. Not the most comfortable of gowns, but the warm expanse of skin would hopefully encourage a man to lay his bare palm against her flesh, allowing her to see more of his memories. “Help me with my coat?”
He groaned and pressed his hard body along her back. “Damn shame to cover all of this up.”
She glanced over her shoulder and batted her lashes. “You wouldn’t want me to freeze from the cold, would you?”
“Of course not.” He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder and licked a wet trail to her neck.
The urge to rack him with her stiletto made her toes curl. This seduction bullshit was a lot harder than it appeared in the movies. If she hadn’t seen the memories herself, she never would’ve guessed that this slinky, slithery act of his worked on bagging babes. All it made her do was want to heave.
His smile stretched, revealing his artificially whitened teeth. “I’m going to make tonight one you never forget.”
Gag.
“Oh, James,” she gushed when he escorted her to the limo waiting outside. “I thought this was a simple cocktail party.” She slid across the bench seat and placed Ripley at her feet.
“Baby, nothing Matthew Madden does is simple.”
The driver shut the door and the locks clicked into place like a shot from a nail gun.
Yep. There it was. The final nail in the coffin. There was no turning back.
They barely cleared the hotel driveway before Dittmar made his move. He swooped in for a kiss but paused as he eyed the heavy gloss on her lips that shimmered even in the dark. He frowned then shifted his attention to the tender flesh of her neck. He nibbled her skin as he dug his hands under her cloak to curl around the curve of her ass and drag her closer.
“James. James,” she panted. Panic bubbled as his fingers skimmed up her side and pulled the bodice down, exposing her nipple, which he hungrily latched onto. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and tugged. “James, please wait.”
He let the nub go with a pop. “I want you, Crystal. Right here, right now.”
“I want you, too, but not like this.”
“Why not? Damn, you’re so sexy.”
She tugged his hair again when he dipped his head back to her breast. “Please, James. You’re making me wonder if you didn’t plan to have sex with me in the back of your limo, then leave me on the street somewhere.”
“I would never do that.” The curve of his smile reminded her of the Grinch that stole Christmas. “I intend to take my sweet time with you over and over again.”
It physically hurt to restrain the urge to roll her eyes. “We’re meeting with some very important people, and I’m nervous enough as it is. I don’t want to walk in looking freshly rolled and smelling like sex. I don’t want to embarrass you. Would you want to embarrass me that way?” She pouted.
His lips curled over his teeth for a second before he drew away and slumped against the seat. “I’m sorry, baby. I just want you so damn much.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his hard cock.
She played along and stroked him through his trousers. “I’ll make it up to you later. Promise.”
He arched in her grasp. “How about you start now.”
Just as he reached for his zipper, Ripley yipped and jumped on his lap. “Fuck. He’s getting fur all over me.” Dittmar shoved the pup off, sending Ripley flying into the opposite seat.
“Poor thing.” Crystal picked Ripley up and set him between them. “Cuddles gets jealous of other men. Especially when they get too close.”
“Well, he better get used to it.” He eyed the dog as if he were shit stuck to his Ferragamos. “Because I intend to get really close to you.”
Again, gag.
Fortunately for her, the limo pulled past the gate and into the drive of Madden’s fortress.
Her jaw dropped as she took in the grandeur of the palatial mansion. It looked like a miniature version of the White House, complete with columns standing tall along the front. Anyone who stood before the massive double doors would not doubt that the person who lived there was very powerful indeed.
And to think, this was once Max’s home. Well, at least when he hadn’t been away at school.
Sadness settled in her heart and made her throat ache as she recalled Max’s memories of his mother as she had killed herself in this house. This was where his powers were born.
And the place she was going to die.
Stop it. You’re not dead yet.
The car door opened and she took the driver’s hand as she stepped onto the cobblestone drive. “Come here, boy.” She beckoned to Ripley.
Next to her, Dittmar made a strangled noise. “Baby, Oodles should stay in the car.”
“But I can’t leave Cuddles out here. That’s worse than leaving him in the hotel room.”
He leveled his most charming smile at her. “Matthew Madden is not an animal lover. We wouldn’t want to insult our host, do we?”
“What if he needs to go potty?”
A tic began in his jaw. “Davidson here will take care of him, right?”
The driver looked less than thrilled. “Right,” he repeated tightly.
The team had known there was a good chance she would get separated from Ripley. She just wished it wasn’t going to be so soon.
“Well, I guess it will be all right.” Not. But better not to protest too much and draw suspicion. “Take good care of my baby.” She gave Ripley one quick squeeze and whispered in his ear. “Thank you for earlier. Be careful.”
He yipped and licked her face before getting in one last growl at Dittmar.
Dittmar slipped his hand around her waist and escorted her up the walkway. A mantra began in her head in time with the click of her heels on the cobblestones.
You are Mata Hari. You are James Bond. You will succeed. Madden is about. To go. Down.
Just as Dittmar reached for the doorbell a sound like a lion’s roar, followed by a cutoff scream, broke the silence of the night.
He looked around. “What was that?”
Well, Ripley wasn’t wasting time. “What was what?” She batted her lashes.
“Didn’t you hear that? It sounded like a wild animal.”
She tittered and playfully slapped at his chest. “Seriously, I can’t hear anything over the pounding of my heart. I’m so nervous.”
“Don’t be. They’ll love you.”
The door opened, revealing a brick wall of a man wearing a suit and a headset. He nodded at Dittmar before accepting their coats and passing them along to the girl in a French maid’s costume standing by his side.
So, the guard was familiar enough with Dittmar that he allowed them in without asking for their names. Apparently, Dittmar was a bigger player then they thought. Interesting.
The inside of the mansion was just as opulent as the outside with marble flooring covering the entire lower level. The black and silver veined rock sucked up all natural light and heat, making it feel as welcoming as the inside of an icebox. Mahogany Chippendale furniture matched the dual curved staircases that dominated the foyer and led up to the second floor.
As Dittmar guided her through the oversized rooms, she noted that while beautiful, the house was as impersonal as a furniture store. Not one photo was displayed. Nothing gave a hint of any character trait of the owner other than wealthy. She might as well have been walking through a design catalog of the rich and famous.
Even Madden’s guests reminded her of department store mannequins as they lounged artfully against the leather furniture with their Botoxed faces and artificial tans.
The ballroom ceiling soared so high, she had to crane her neck to look up at the fresco design. Couches and tables formed conversational areas, and the muted lighting resembled nightclubs like the ones in Las Vegas.
Dittmar pressed a kiss to her shoulder and caressed her backside. “I’ll get us some drinks. What would you like?”
Fifth of whiskey. “Syrah, if they have it.”
He smiled and trailed his finger along her arm before disappearing into the crowd.
Crystal scanned the gatherers, sorting out those who appeared to be bodyguards from guests. She smirked as she noticed that while the men were dressed in styles ranging from jeans and cowboy boots to three-piece suits, the women were attired in barely there skirts with plunging necklines. They were nothing but eye candy as they stood around, fidgeting with their wine glasses and looking bored to tears while their men ignored them but for the occasional pat on the ass.
No, it did not escape her notice that she too was dressed more for sin than conversation, and it became clear that Dittmar had only brought her to be an accessory for the night and not the potential investor he told her she would be.
“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
Enveloped in the lame opening spoken in a sexy rasp was a hint of sarcastic humor.
She glanced over her shoulder to make a smartass comeback of her own and froze, her jaw dropping in shock.
Oh. My. God.