The day after her wedding, Bonnie woke up to find her husband gone and a credit card with her name on it on the bedside table. If it weren’t for the note he left, she’d have stormed down to his office and thrown it at him.
However, he’d explained.
I have to see Murray. We have a dinner tonight, with my family. You might want to get something to wear. Cocktail stuff. If you call reception, they’ll send a guard up to take you. I’ll take you myself if you can wait until after lunch.
She was more than eager to meet his family. A mystery lurked there, and she wasn’t imagining it.
Disdaining the last part of the message, she got up and showered, wincing at the unaccustomed discomfort between her legs. She’d read books, novels, heard from her friends and work colleagues, pretended to know what they were talking about but last night had shown he the huge difference between knowing and experiencing it personally.
She’d never expected anything so––intimate. Oh yes, she mused, rubbing scented shower gel over her body, marking the sensitive spots where he’d licked and nibbled her. She knew all about getting naked with somebody, fucking them. She’d been nervous enough, but this––the way he’d held her, the small, masculine snores when he slept on his back, his kisses––they were all true intimacies. He had allowed her to know him that well. He’d told her he rarely spent a night in a woman’s bed, but he had in hers. Or she had in his, to be more precise. Those little touches were far more intimate than just getting undressed and pleasuring each other. Even though that was better than anything she’d ever imagined.
In half an hour she was ready. She appreciated having a kitchen area in the suite. Toasted bagel and tea later, she was prepared to face the world. Under the credit card he’d left a room card, so she could get back in. She’d found a pair of jeans that fit her much better than her old ones, and another soft silk top, this one opaque. Adding a hat and big sunglasses helped to give her a light disguise. If anybody recognized her, she’d deny it. No, of course she wasn’t Mrs. Rocquelaire, what a stupid idea!
Perhaps he’d found out who’d shot at her the day of Susie’s wedding. In that case, she could move more freely.
Her old, scruffy bag was a great disguise, too. Who would believe Mrs. Rocquelaire had such a grungy, old-fashioned bag? It was a few years old, the woven parts thready and looped. She had pinned badges to it, a rainbow one, another with a cheeky message, and some charity ribbons.
Going down in the elevator gave Bonnie a sense of freedom she hadn’t had for days. She was herself again. The past few days had been the dream, and this was her real self, the person she’d always been. It was just that she was shopping in places with designer names. No biggie.
When the security guy arrived, she met him with a cheerful, “Hi!”
At least he smiled back. “Hi. I’m David Cook. When we’re out, call me Dave, as if I’m a friend. We don’t want to call attention to ourselves.” Dave wore black jeans and a shirt, with a jacket over the top, no doubt hiding his weapon. He wasn’t as big as her husband, but he was pretty big. Reminded of her married state, Bonnie turned her emerald engagement ring to the inside of her hand. That had been photographed too much in the past few days to remain unrecognized.
The mall adjoined the casino, and the links were almost seamless. That meant she could walk from where the machines jingled and clinked, and music blared straight through to the mall with the perilously shiny floor, and the posh shops.
Unable to resist, she entered a shop with exquisite bags in the window, and was immediately pounced on. “Is there anything you’re specifically interested in?” the superior woman asked her.
The credit card burned a hole in her bag. “That one,” she said vaguely, pointing at a beautiful pale pink number. “How much is it?”
The woman stared at her, thin brows raised, as if asking the question was the height of bad manners. Another woman came in, dressed to the nines, waves of perfume wafting over to where Bonnie stood. How did she stand such a choking level of scent? Bonnie didn’t have to. She left.
Bonnie couldn’t resist the next shop, almost gluing her nose to the window. However, she wouldn’t be buying the delicate diamond bracelets today. Buying a dress for dinner was enough of a task. She could have picked one from the clothes closet in the apartment, but she’d wanted to get out and wander. To say she wanted fresh air was going a bit too far, since all the air she breathed was the recycled kind.
About six garments hung on a rail inside the next place, and that was all. This was one of those exclusive places that only showed you clothes if you deserved it.
Bonnie could never resist a challenge. Tucking her dark glasses in her pocket, she strolled in. Dave stood outside, browsing. He was really good at checking places out and guarding them.
An assistant materialized out of nowhere. “May I help you, madam?”
How should she handle this? If she produced the credit card, they’d give her anything she wanted, but that was like giving in, and she wanted to do this for herself.
She touched a dress. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” the man said. He was dressed in a pair of black trousers and a thin, black jumper, and he looked perfect.
“It’s lovely, but it wouldn’t suit me,” she said. The dress was made for somebody tall and rail-thin. That didn’t include her.
The man’s gaze raked her up and down, his gaze raking her and finding her wanting.
How dare he sneer at her like she was something scraped off his shoe? Grabbing her bag, she fumbled inside, searching for the magic card. She’d show it to him and then she’d walk out. Let him know he had insulted his landlord’s wife.
“Ah, there you are!” A male voice came from the doorway. The sound bore the same timbre as her husband’s, but even before she turned around she knew it wasn’t him. Elliott Rocquelaire, immaculate in designer jeans and a black V-neck jumper strode into the shop.
Bonnie stood her ground. “Did he send you?”
He raised a brow, a smile curving his mouth. “No. I was out shopping. I take it you’re doing the same thing?”
“Yes. Garrett said we’re going to dinner tonight.”
“Did he? Yes, I guess we are since we refuse to go until he breaks bread with us.” Elliott shrugged. “We don’t get together often.” He glanced at the assistant. The man had definitely recognized Elliott. At the mention of Garrett, his fake tan couldn’t hide his pallor. “Let me show you the places you might like.”
Without another glance, he waved in the direction of the door. “You won’t find anything here. This designer doesn’t appreciate a real woman.” Since he didn’t accompany his words with a lascivious look or gesture, she accepted that. This encounter gave her a chance to understand his family, at least his brother.
“Let’s have coffee first,” Elliott said. “Unless you’re in a hurry?”
“N-no, I have all day.”
“What happened to your friends?”
“I said goodbye to them at the reception.”
He took her to a booth in an upscale café, and they ordered coffees. She didn’t want anything else. Dave bought a coffee and sat nearby, but he wasn’t happy. His attention darted around. This place was too full for his liking.
Elliott Rocquelaire was undoubtedly attractive. The resemblance between him and Bonnie’s husband were marked, but Elliott’s eyes were a deeper blue, more navy than sapphire. His face was leaner, less obviously handsome. Nevertheless, she doubted he’d have many problems with women. “Are you married?” she said abruptly.
“No,” he said smoothly, as their coffees arrived. He paused. “You were quite a surprise. We thought he was determined to marry Georgia G, but then you arrived on the scene.”
She lowered her voice even though there was nobody within hearing distance. “It was a bit sudden for both of us.”
“But convenient.”
“Yes.” That sympathetic smile probably worked on a lot of women. But not with her. She was already taken. “We met, like he said in the press conference, when I was card-counting. I didn’t know it was wrong. I’m an accountant, and I’ve always loved working with numbers. When I saw a way of improving my chances, I took it.” As well as grabbing the opportunity to distract herself from the problem vexing her.
Well, now she knew what having a man caress and suck her breasts felt like. Too good to lose. When she returned home, she’d have memories she could take with her, to sustain her through the ordeal ahead.
“How much did you win?” Elliott asked.
“Eighteen hundred dollars.”
He touched his finger to his lips in a thoughtful gesture. “That’s interesting. The alarm isn’t triggered until the player wins two thousand bucks. Garrett must have picked you out before then.”
“An alarm?”
He shrugged. “It’s more of an alert. The tables have stakes levels, and if you’re at a low-stakes one, two thousand is the key. Then somebody in the security center takes a closer look. Usually it doesn’t amount to anything.”
“It did with me.” So he had spotted her before she’d won too much to attract attention? He must have been watching her all along. Had he noticed her even then, with her severe hairstyle and dowdy clothes?
“It certainly did,” he said. “Hell, if I’d seen you first, I’d have taken an interest.”
She doubted that, but she smiled and accepted his compliment as coolly as she could. “Garrett told me you didn’t get together often.”
“After he came out of the army we all agreed it was time we caught up with him. As soon as we saw the reports in the press, Dad mobilized the troops. We’re not letting him get away again.”
Tension crept into the air. She’d sensed that before, when she’d asked Garrett about his family. Perhaps she could learn something from this man. “Your father married six times?”
“That’s right. Garrett and I share both parents. Our mother was Dorothy Sadler, a New York heiress, and she brought class with her, as well as the hotels, at least the way Dad tells it.”
He grimaced. “Dorothy died shortly after Garrett was born, and Dad remarried fast.” He shrugged. “He’s French. Practicality comes built-in, or so he keeps telling us. Each of the first four marriages helped him develop the business. He married Alanna, a Hollywood movie star, then Rosemarie, a French heiress, then Paula, a real estate business tycoon from London. Then came Julia.”
He lifted his cup of espresso and downed it in one motion, replacing the tiny cup in the saucer with a quiet click. “After Julia, he met Stacie. He fell in love with Stacie. She’d worked for him for years. They’re really happy together.”
So, Julia. Bonnie’s curiosity was more than piqued. What was it about their father’s fifth wife? Elliott had given no explanation, no idea of what Julia was, or what she’d meant to the family. Although she tried a few more questions, Elliott wasn’t biting.
“Dad’s so happy with Stacie he wants us all to marry for love.” He grimaced. “That probably won’t happen.” He studied her curiously. “I’m not going to ask. I don’t need to, because when you two look at each other, it’s obvious.” He paused once more, frowning. “Listen, I don’t know how much you know about our family history, but you and Garrett––it’s nothing like Garrett and Georgia G. That’s why none of us planned to come to his wedding.”
“Thanks.” Touched, she smiled. She had been feeling vulnerable, not sure, and she hated feeling that way. Elliott’s words made her feel better.
“See if you can get him to open up. We miss him, the rest of us. We might be scattered geographically, but we talk a lot online and on the phone. We get together as much as we can, but Garrett never comes to anything. I’d love him back with the family.”
He studied her, his gaze too perceptive for her liking. “I don’t want to say too much, but get him to talk about Julia. When that went down was when he drew apart from us. The rest of us got over it, but he—” He broke off abruptly. “Never mind, ask him.”
With a charming smile, as if he’d never given her that tantalizing snippet, he said, “Are you ready to shop?”
“Absolutely.”
As they were getting up a muted roar came from the door of the café.
Garrett strode in, seizing her arm roughly. “What the fuck are you doing?” He glared at his brother. “Was this your idea?”
Elliott held up his hands, palms out. “I saw her in a store on her own, and offered to keep her company. Don’t you have a meeting?”
Garrett shot his brother a furious glare that should rightly have had him bursting into flames. “Not when Murray told me the apartment was empty and Bonnie hadn’t called down to security.”
Annoyed, she shook him off. “Dave met me.”
He frowned. “Dave?”
The vision came to her unbidden. She didn’t see anything, but she heard a sound she knew, and gained information from who-knew-where. Shoving Garrett aside with a strength she wasn’t aware she had, she dropped to the floor.
A shot sounded out, then two more in rapid succession. Screams and the sound of chairs scraping back came next. Feet pounded past where she was huddled under the table where she’d sat with Elliott a moment before. He wasn’t with her. Neither was Garrett.
Shivering, she peered out. A hand caught hers and pulled her up, right into her husband’s arms.
Garrett didn’t pause, but tucked his arm under her knees and lifted her. He was already heading for the front of the café, but when she peered over his shoulder, she saw a body, sprawled on its back on the tiled floor. Blood pooled under his head and Elliott stood over his body. He had a gun in his hand.
She would not cry. She would not cry.
Shock made her completely still. But not, it seemed, her husband.
Alarms sounded and people ran, screaming. Some were taking shelter in the lee of the carts that stood in the mall.
Garrett didn’t stop. He ran, ran with her in his arms until he reached a lift she hadn’t noticed when she’d arrived. A man in the uniform of a security guard held the door open. Garrett didn’t hesitate. He took them into the small, claustrophobic cell and the doors slid silently closed.
Only then did he put her down, but he held her close, gazing down into her face with hard eyes. “Before you forget tell me exactly what happened back there.”
“Y-yes.”
“Don’t think. Just tell me what you saw and felt.”
“Okay.” She did as he instructed. When the doors slid open he took her hand, leading her to the private lift leading to the penthouse. A man stood outside, and nodded as they went in.
Once in the safety of the penthouse, she began, heading for the sofa while he went to the refrigerator and got her a bottle of water. “Talk,” he said.
She’d never seen him like this before. Almost inhuman, hard-eyed, blank-faced. She told him. “I didn’t see much, but I felt the violence in the air and I heard the shot a few seconds before it happened. Elliott had a gun.”
He nodded. “So do I. We both shot the guy.” His mouth flattened into a thin line. “Where did you meet Dave?”
“I-in the lobby. I rode down in the lift—elevator—and met him there. Dave Cooper, he said his name was and he showed me a security card from this hotel. I wasn’t mistaken. I read it.”
“Wait.” Pulling out his phone, he relayed the information. “If we have a Dave Cooper find out where he is.” He cut the call and faced her. “Go on.”
He took me to a couple of stores, stood outside. Then I met Elliott and we went for a coffee.”
“I see.”
What had just happened? “Do you trust your brother?”
“Like that? Yes. With your life? Implicitly.”
So that wasn’t the cause of conflict between them. “Dave wasn’t your man?”
His phone rang and he answered it. “Sure. I see. Okay. Let me know when the police get here.”
He turned his attention back to her. “We’re going to have to talk to the police. Are you okay with that?”
She nodded and took a sip of her water. “Why don’t I feel bad?”
“You might. Or you might not,” he said. “It’s hard to tell. But I’m here, with you. I won’t go.” He sighed. “Shit, I’m sorry, Bonnie. Not the best start to married life, is it?”
He made their state sound permanent. Not that it was. “What happened? Another assassination attempt?”
“Yes. That guy wasn’t one of the hotel security staff. I asked Murray to go with you, and he was calling up here. That’s why I was mad. I thought you’d decided not to wait for him.”
“That would have been stupid.”
“Yeah, really stupid. But if you thought your escort had arrived, not so stupid.”
She drank more water, waiting for the other penny to drop, the adrenaline rush to arrive. But it didn’t. “Why didn’t he kill me before?” Even that bald statement didn’t make her shake.
“I’m guessing there were too many people around. When Elliott arrived, although there were people in the restaurant, you were isolated. He would have shot Elliott too.”
He closed his eyes.
Then she got it. He needed the comfort, not he. Standing, she took a seat next to him. “Kiss me.”
“Okay.” Without further words, he turned and took her into his arms. Fine tremors rocked him as he touched his mouth to hers.
As usual, the kiss turned fiery. How on earth could she control the instant heat flaring between them? Only when she had her head on his shoulder and his tongue in her mouth did she moan, and curl her arm around his neck.
By the time he released her, she was a malleable mess again. Something deep inside her responded to him. When he showed an interest in her, it grew a little bit bigger. She didn’t know how to control it, but she knew she had to, for her own safety. This man was experienced, worldly, everything she was not, and he was dangerous.