Sleepless in Las Vegas (34 page)

Unlike how she felt, full nearly to bursting with white-heat desire and a frustration so painfully exquisite it’d be a miracle if she didn’t liquefy. Aching, greedy, she tugged blindly on the boxers as a needy moan escaped her throat.

“Let me help,” he murmured, snaking his fingers into the waistband, yanking them down. Crouching before her, he pressed a kiss on her triangle before pulling the boxers the rest of the way down and helping her step out of them.

He stood, giving her body a once-over. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“I wouldn’t say that here,” she teased, “just in case.”

He grinned. “Don’t move.”

She watched his reflection in the mirrors behind the tub as he spread a soft towel on the marble counter. Behind it he stacked several more towels. Then he stepped in front of her, and in one smooth movement, he lifted her effortlessly, setting her gently on the flattened towel.

Crossing back to the tub, he turned off the faucets, then reached down to his discarded jeans. A moment later, he removed his boxers and kicked them aside.

In the hazy light, she admired the dark carpet of hair on his chest, the lines of his strong, muscled body. Dropping her gaze, she paused
there.
This was one girl who wouldn’t have to lie and say size didn’t matter.

He ripped open the wrapper and rolled a condom down his shaft. “I could say I always carry one,” he murmured, “but the truth is, only for the past few days.”

His gaze dropped to her breasts. Fondling and kneading one, he lowered his head and suckled its sister. She clung to his sweat-slicked shoulders, whimpering as sensations ripped through her, howling for completion.

Standing upright, he cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer, wrapping her legs around his hips. Leaning forward, he bunched the fluffy towels behind her for support.

“Comfortable?” he murmured.

“Yes…yes…”

His eyes boring into hers, he drew his hand slowly down her stomach, over her abdomen, down to her cleft. He slid a finger gently through her folds.

“Show me,” he murmured.

She tilted her pelvis slightly, guiding his touch. “There,” she murmured. His touch tormented her, drove her higher, until it was almost more than she could stand.

“Please,” she begged, reaching for him, “now.”

Raw need shuddered in her throat as he entered her, her fingers sinking into his flesh, holding on as he rocked her, every thrust pushing her closer to the edge, tightening every wanton, pent-up, throbbing need into a white-hot ball of lust…

Arching her back, a moan escaped her throat, escalating into a cry as wave after wave of release convulsed her body.

Fighting for breath, he gripped her buttocks as he continued thrusting, gently, rhythmically…his gray eyes dazed with passion until, with one last deliberate deep thrust, her name emerged from his throat in a low, guttural growl.

Drake sank onto the cool marble floor into a cross-legged sit, easing Val’s body into his arms, where he cradled her, occasionally planting light kisses on her face, her shoulder, her hair. They sat that way for a while, not speaking, their bodies meshed together as one.

Two people who had finally found their refuge.

* * *

A
SHORT
WHILE
later, they were in the water, Val cradled in Drake’s arms.

“So, Aqua Man,” she murmured, having just heard the story of his nickname, “did you fulfill your promise to your dad and learn how to swim?”

“Took some lessons, but I’ve never put my skills to the test.”

“I used to love to swim, but after that day in Katrina, I never swam again. Sometimes I still dream I’m standing in front of dark waves, too paralyzed to move.” She shuddered. “Onto better thoughts. You said you made two other promises to your father.”

“To take care of the family. To stop gambling. Hasn’t always been easy trying to watch out for Braxton, but never gambling again is rock solid. Keeps me whole.” He listened for a moment. “Hear that?”

Faint strains of music played. A man warbled a tune.

“The Four Franks again,” Val said.

As they watched the flickering candle, they listened to a man sing about stealing a love song from the birds to express his feelings to a woman.

Drake thought how, not so long ago, he’d fought the first signs of his vulnerability to Val. But his fate had been sealed at the first barrage of fire. There was no way he could have withstood the bombardment.

“Dollar for your thoughts?” Val asked.

“Sometimes,” Drake murmured, tugging her closer, “surrender is unavoidable.”

* * *

B
Y
LATE
MORNING
the following day, the storms had broken and the sun was shining again. After Drake dropped Val off at her Toyota, she headed home, showered, put on her makeup and changed into a light gray halter dress.

By one that afternoon, she was back at Diamond Investigations, where she and Drake reviewed the video footage they had taken at the Sinatra suite, burned it onto a CD and wrote their investigation report. Next, they compiled a set of bogus documents that detailed asset resources for five of Jayne’s wealthy, and very fake, clients.

Afterward, Val called Suzanne Doyle and left a message that she’d drop off the report and CD later in the day. Her second call was to Yuri, informing him she had the documents he requested. He said he’d be by around four. After she hung up, she looked up at the surveillance camera.

“It’s on.”

* * *

A
T
QUARTER
TO
four, the agency phone jangled. For a change, the irritating ring didn’t give Val a start.

“Diamond Investigations,” she answered.

“This is Jayne.”

“Jayne…how are you?”

“Holding my own.” Pause. “A former client dropped by the agency this morning, said the front door was locked, no lights on inside. Is everything all right?”

She didn’t sound as tired as the last time they spoke, which was a good sign. Nevertheless, Val decided to not share everything that was going on, just to keep it simple. The last thing her boss needed right now was more stress and worry.

“I came in late after working an all-night surveillance with Drake.”

“Sounds like you two are getting along.”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.” Pause. “I also called to tell you that…” Her voice softened. “You remind me of myself when I was younger. Ambitious, eager, a risk taker. I have counseled you many times that you cannot always do things your way, but I wanted you to know before…” She paused. “Wanted you to know,” she repeated, her voice turning solemn, “if you trust your choice, even if others disagree, taking a risk is sometimes the only way to win.”

* * *

C
LOSE
TO
FOUR
, Val’s cell phone rang. Yuri’s number displayed on the caller ID.

She took a calming breath. “Hello?”

“I am outside, parked at the curb. Bring papers to me.”

“I thought you would come inside,” she said pleasantly.

“I like outside.”

Just as Drake had guessed, Yuri did not want to conduct business inside the agency.

“I’ll be right there,” she said, looking at the surveillance camera.

She picked up the manila envelope on her desk, filled with the phony documents she and Drake had prepared, slipped on her sunglasses and headed outside.

As she approached the Mercedes, the tinted driver’s window rolled down.

“Hello, Yuri,” she said in her best cheerful voice, stopping at the side of the car.

He wore an embroidered blue short-sleeve shirt, the corner of a white handkerchief sticking out of the pocket, and slacks. Vadim sat in the passenger seat, wearing another leisure suit, typing on an iPad. The car was running, air-conditioning on high, and the radio played.

He accepted the envelope. Saying something in Russian, he handed it to Vadim, who nodded.

Yuri turned back to Val, giving her a smile that reminded her of a lizard. When he reached down, she froze, wondering if he had a gun. Instead, he handed her a bottle of Russian vodka.

“Kahrs.”

“Kahrs,”
she said, forcing a smile.

The tinted window rolled back up.

Moments later, she sat at her desk. “Everything went as planned,” she said to the surveillance camera.

She pulled off her sunglasses and removed one of its temple arms with the built-in video-recording device. “Except I couldn’t record the conversation because not only did he keep the air conditioner running the whole time, he played music on the radio.”

The connecting door clicked open. She heard Hearsay’s skittering claws and Drake’s footsteps heading down the hall. A moment later, he stood next to her desk. She had the fleeting thought that a man dressed in jeans and a simple white T-shirt didn’t have a right to look so good.

Hearsay curled up at her feet and slipped his nose beneath a foreleg.

“All that work for nothing,” she murmured.

Drake gave a half shrug. “Next time, we’ll try something different.”

“Like?”

“We’ll brainstorm options.”

“Want to do that now?”

“No,” he said, his brow creasing with worry. He opened his arms. “C’mere.”

She stood, sank into his embrace, her heart thudding, steeling herself for bad news. Was he going to say last night was a mistake?

“I pulled some records,” he said gently, stroking her back, “your biological mother…died twelve years ago, a few years after she left New Orleans. Seems she had been sick for a long time.” He hugged her tight. “I’m sorry, Val.”

It was as though someone turned a valve and her life force leaked out of her. She felt hollow, and in a strange way, lonelier than she’d ever been. Even after losing her nanny. For all the times she’d told herself she felt nothing for the woman who’d abandoned her as a child, the news saddened her.

“Didn’t think I’d care,” she whispered hoarsely, “but I do. How selfish of me to not think there were other reasons she stayed away…what did she die of? No, I’m not ready to hear. Did she…have a husband?”

“It appears there was a boyfriend.”

“He was with her when she…?”

“Don’t know.”

“Now I’m nobody’s child,” she murmured.

He tightened his arms around her, cradling her head against his chest. “Maybe I’m rushing things, but you’ll always have my family. You’ll always have me.”

She listened to his heartbeat, breathed in his familiar scent, remembering how last night after they’d made love she had felt refuge in their embrace. At this moment, she sensed something more profound in his arms.

The promise of a future.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A
FTER
LOCKING
THE
front door to Diamond Investigations, Val joined Drake in his back office. He was tossing the pink ball to Hearsay, who would catch it in his mouth, then stand there and stare at Drake as though to say, “Now what?”

“You’re supposed to return it to me!” Drake gave Val an exasperated look. “
I’m
the one fetching it back from him every time. Obviously I’m failing as a dog trainer.”

Val smiled. “Or maybe he’s training you.”

“C’mon, buddy,” Drake said, heading to his office door, “you’ve trained me enough for today.

He opened the door and Hearsay trotted outside, then stopped. Dropping the ball, he began barking loudly.

“Buddy,” Drake said, stepping outside with Val, “what’s up?”

They froze.

Yuri leaned against the pickup truck, pressing a folded white handkerchief on his shiny forehead. The black Mercedes blocked the parking space entrance, the sun glinting off its tinted windows.

“Vadim check information on his iPad and learn it all
bullshit.
” He jammed the handkerchief into a shirt pocket. “Bad names. Closed bank accounts. You think Yuri stupid?”

Hearsay growled.

Yuri glanced at him. “Hello, missing link. I remember Marta say dog at Diamond Investigations. I call her few minutes ago, ask to describe. Funny,” he said, mocking great surprise, “it look
exactly
like dog I see at Drake’s house! So Vadim and I visit Diamond Investigations, look around…and look where I find Drake’s pickup.”

“What do you want, Yuri?” Drake asked.

He pulled a sparkling diamond ring out of his pocket. “Very pretty family ring, Drake. Worth
zouzands.
”

“I offered you twenty,” Drake said calmly, holding tightly onto Val’s hand.

“With interest, thirty.”

“I don’t have thirty.”

Yuri shrugged, dropped the ring back into his pocket. “I have other deal for twenty thousand. Protection money for your girlfriend. Would be shame for pretty intern to get hurt.”

“Don’t threaten her,” Drake snarled.

“Or what?”

“I’ll kill you.”

Yuri laughed. “For that, protection now cost twenty-
five
thousand. Tonight I host private party at Mandalay Bay wave pool. Bring money there, eight o’clock.”

He started to walk away, stopped and turned. “One more thing. If you not show up with money at eight, Val no longer under protection.”

As the Mercedes drove away, Val said, “Let’s call the police.”

Drake expelled a sharp breath, hating himself for bringing this danger into Val’s life. “Police can’t do anything. There’s no evidence of his threat, just our word against his.”

She gave him a wary look. “You can’t give in to his demands, you know that, right?”

“This is between me and Yuri.”

“Bull. I’m involved, too.” She searched his face, her expression growing grim. “You’re going to cash out the twenty thousand in your savings account, and somehow tag on another five, aren’t you?”

What he really wanted to do was show up at Mandalay Bay, beat Yuri to a pulp and stuff him on a flight back to his mother country. But Yuri had friends, like Vadim, who’d only pick up where Yuri left off. So, yes, Drake’s real plan was to cash out his savings and figure out how to get the rest, but he didn’t want to discuss it with her.

“Let’s go,” he said, swiping his brow. “It’s hot out here.”