Leaving Las Vegas (Entangled Ignite) (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Luke let his hand drift in the flow of air as Glory drove down the open highway. With Tiffanette waiting for them in Wichita, it hadn’t made sense to stay in hiding by the river. They’d taken off for Beaux right after Glory had thrown the phone into the river. The drive was beautiful. Glory had swapped his jacket for the pink diner blouse and looked adorable. It was a wonderful day out, with cloudless skies up above and open highways stretching out in every direction down on the ground. There was little traffic and fewer troubles.

He’d called Burke from a pay phone at a weed-infested gas station. The New York investigator knew an outfit that specialized in renting out private armies and reclaiming kidnapped businessmen in foreign countries. Those guys knew their business. A team was in position to make its move as soon as Tiffanette and her crew showed up in Wichita.

A second security team was heading to Beaux. Tiffanette wasn’t stupid and neither was her partner, the man that Luke was increasingly certain had masterminded—and funded—the entire thing. The bad guys knew Glory’s name. They knew her phone number. They had to know where she lived by now. If they doubted her ability to follow instructions, they might just send one of their goon squads to Beaux. A nasty little insurance policy.

Glory didn’t know. Sharing his suspicions would only make her panic—worrying about her family, her friends, and her beautiful town.

He’d called Burke again outside a fast-food place. So far, there’d been no sign of Tiffanette or her goon squad in either Kansas or West Virginia.

Glory had begged to drive the Vanquish again. He loved the way the Vanquish handled, but after hours of driving, his right leg had cramped up. Besides, Glory was hellishly hot behind the wheel of his car. Between his expert navigation and her lead foot, they’d left the major highway behind, exchanging state paved roads for a clear night sky with stars twinkling bright overhead. Apparently, they hadn’t heard of light pollution in West Virginia.

Glory let out a long sigh. “The property we’re trying to buy is on the north end of the lake. It’s a huge old Victorian. Absolutely perfect, or it will be once it gets a new roof, some decent plumbing, siding, plaster repairs, wiring, fixtures, and paint. The foundation’s solid and the deck is beautiful. Wooden planks extending out over the lake. My cousin Benji launches fireworks off it every Fourth of July. It’s bright yellow. Dandelion House. That’s what my grandmother called it. One of her friends lived there when I was little, and we’d go over most Saturday afternoons to play poker and drink lemonade.”

“Nice.”

“Of course, after we grew up a little, we didn’t wait for an invitation to go over. Dandelion House has the best patch of water. In the summer, kids swarm all over the dock. Splashing around. Swimming. I once did a double backflip off it, and it wasn’t even by accident. When I have kids, that’s where I’m going to teach them to swim.”

“You want kids.” That was a statement, not a question. Luke didn’t need to ask to know the answer. It was hard to reconcile in his mind the image he had of a wild woman making blood boil in his veins with only one long, smoldering look, and the harried small-business owner who loved children, the woman who made gingerbread houses and probably came home at night with frosting in her hair.

His eyes closed, and for a brief moment he could see it. Glory racing across a grassy field, swinging a child up in her arms. A tiny girl with inky hair, a crooked grin, and the kind of confidence that it took to bluff half a dozen grown men. The image made Luke smile. An elfin child with emerald eyes and—

Glory didn’t have green eyes. Her eyes were dark blue like the sea after a storm, with lightning still flashing on the horizon every time she got really angry or turned on. The only real green eyes he knew were the ones that he saw in the mirror every morning. Grass-green with flecks of gold, according to his mother.

Wow. The little girl in his mind’s eye had his eyes. And now that he thought about it there was more than a little of him in her impish features and devilish intelligence.

The thought should have scared him silly. It didn’t.

“Don’t you want kids?” Glory asked.

“I’m going to have children,” Luke said automatically. The same answer he gave his mother every time she asked. “It’s only expected.”

“Sure, but do you want them?”

His entire life Luke had never thought about having children without a cold fear gripping his body.

“Kids—they’re just small people—”

A sharp laugh. “You don’t know a lot of kids, do you?”

“The way I grew up… Nannies and casino staff raised me until I was old enough to be shipped off to boarding school.” He shrugged. “I always imagined my kids would be raised the same way. Coming home for holidays and the occasional party.”

Glory’s eyes were wide. Her mouth was half-open in disbelief. Her hands strangled the steering wheel. She didn’t say anything, didn’t censure him. She didn’t need to.

“I hated how I was raised.” The thought of his children growing up without their father made him sick to his stomach, but it wasn’t up to him. That was the life he was expected to give his children, by his mother and by every woman he’d ever seriously dated.

The thought of Glory letting someone else raise her daughter was insane, preposterous, it wouldn’t happen. And if someone even dared to suggest it, then she’d sock him in the jaw.

“You’ll make a great mother.”

“Me?” Glory laughed. “Thanks.” A pause. “I think.”

For the first time on their trip, Glory appeared speechless. They drifted into silence, the radio playing quietly in the background. They reached the top of the hill for a moment and coasted. They could see for miles in every direction.

Ahead of them, enough light was left as twilight eased into night to show a picturesque country town with churches, schools, and tiny white bungalows dotting the landscape. American flags hung from every lamppost, and if he squinted he could see people standing on the street corners. Laughing. Enjoying life.

It was a beautiful sight, and Luke knew that with all his money and power, all the recognition that he’d garnered for creating beautiful hotels and fabulous casinos, he still couldn’t re-create the sense of rising euphoria that the setting in front of him inspired. It was almost enough to overpower the joy he felt sitting next to Glory.

“I didn’t think we were this close.” He leaned forward, wrinkling the map. “It’s beautiful. No wonder you care so much about it.”

“Ha!” An angry guffaw. “That’s not Beaux. It’s Miller’s Crossing. Bunch of loudmouthed fools. Beaux’s still miles away. But we’re almost home. God,” Glory murmured. “I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed—even if it means kicking Benji out on his behind. My trailer’s not exactly a five-star hotel, but I think you’ll like it.”

Glory’s place. Her bed piled high with bright blankets and fluffy pillows. Her mattress squeaking as he bounced her down against it. His mouth went dry at the thought of stripping Glory down and kissing her in all of her most private places. The sex at the river had been completely, utterly mind-blowing, but next time he wanted to slow things down. Next time—and the time after.

There was no place Luke wanted to see more, but they’d probably be better off staying at a hotel. Someplace with chocolates on the pillow and a guard at the front door. Would going to Glory’s mean walking straight into a trap?

They needed to talk. Not just about their sleeping arrangements.

Their journey was almost over. It was almost time for him to go back to his regularly scheduled life in Las Vegas. His home, his career, and the people who counted on him. Before he left, they needed to make arrangements.

Cutting back on his hours at work was close to unthinkable, but he could still see Glory. His private jet could make short work of the distance between them, covering in hours the miles that had taken them days to travel. Picking her up for dinner dates and overnight stays on the rare weekend when he didn’t have to work. They could see each other on holidays.

It was an elegant solution to their problem, and in the end he’d have her exactly where he wanted her.

Naked, in his bed. Her silken hair splayed across his chest. Her lips bruised from his kisses.

But first, they’d spend the night together. Even if it meant sleeping in a trailer.

“How long will it take us to reach Beaux?” he asked, looking over at Glory.

“Not long if we take the back way.”

“The back way? What back way?” Luke’s gaze dropped down, double-checking their position against the street atlas he’d picked up at their last stop. If the town in front of them was Miller’s Crossing, then they were just a little southwest of the tiny dot that marked their destination. So small the mapmaker hadn’t even bothered to print the town’s full name. Just two letters: “Bx.” “There’s only one road.
This
road.”

“There’s a fire road up a little ways. We get on that and drive past The Crossroads Tavern. Not exactly the best part of creation, but it’ll take us around.”

Luke couldn’t see any of that. “Show me on the map.”

“Forget the map.” Glory grabbed the piece of paper out of his hand, tossing it overhand into the back of the car, a big grin on her face. “This is where I come from. Who are you going to believe? A freaking map? Or me?” She gunned the engine and the car jumped forward. A few hundred feet down the road, and she slammed the wheel all the way to one side. The engine roared as the car spun to the left, down a muddy track.

Luke grabbed for the safety bar. The Vanquish’s suspension should have taken some of the bumps out of the road, but that presumed there was a road. “Glory, this is a precision automobile, not a farm truck. You can’t drive it on some dirt road!”

“Please. The way you baby this car.”

“Glory…” A low growl. “Get back on the road.”

She laughed. “You know, my entire life people have been telling me what to do. My sisters. My neighbors. My grandmother. She was big on etiquette. Enforcing every lesson with a practical test, dinner at a friend’s house or tea with her gardening club.” Glory’s tongue darted out, moistening her lips. “My sisters rebelled in their own quirky ways, but I was always the good one.”

The speedometer said they were going thirty miles an hour. Between the blind curves and crazy dips it felt like a hundred, but Glory took every turn with cool confidence and complete aplomb. As if she didn’t even notice.

“I’m not going to be good anymore,” she shouted into the wind.

One minute turned into five, leading them deeper into the wilderness. The rough brush that had surrounded the highway was gone. Overtaken by old growth trees that jutted out of the landscape to obscure the sky. The deepening twilight made darker by a thick halo of limbs and leaves.

Thunk!
A loud noise followed by a rough growl. Luke slammed his hand against the steering wheel, steadying the car as it sputtered, coasted forward a few feet, and finally stopped in a cloud of smoke.

“Hell!” Glory’s hands fumbled with the key, trying to restart the car. Once, twice, three times. No response. She slumped forward in her seat, visibly shaken. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Whether she was talking about the car or herself was unclear. Luke sat quietly, watching silent tears roll down Glory’s cheeks. Reaching out, he pushed her onyx hair back over her shoulder and put a warm hand on her back. The pink-and-black waitress shirt was thin enough for him to feel her heart beating. And he realized she was scared. Scared to return home and face her community? Tell them she’d failed to get the money to save their town?

All he wanted was to wrap his arms around her and protect her from all the world’s dangers, but they’d left the world he knew about hours before. Wild women and small country towns with old-fashioned people might as well be a foreign country to him compared with Las Vegas.

They were off the map.

Here there were dragons.

“Take a deep breath,” he murmured. “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

His words must not have been as reassuring as he’d thought, because Glory pulled away. She wiped her face with the edge of her shirt. Took a raspy breath. “Let’s trade seats. Maybe you can get the car to start.”

Five minutes later it was clear to both of them that not even he could get the car to start.

It didn’t start when he turned the key in the ignition, when he held his breath, or even when he prayed out loud to a god that he didn’t believe in. The son of a gambler, Luke knew that the most powerful force in the world was luck. And theirs had just run out.

“You said The Crossroads Tavern was up this road,” he said. “You think anyone there might be willing to give us a ride?”

“If we ask nice.” She sniffed. “Maybe not even then. It’s a biker bar.”

A biker bar. Go figure.

It took them a couple of minutes to get all of their belongings together. Luke tried to get the wrinkles out of his jacket, then gave up and left it on the passenger seat of the car. He grabbed the bag of money, slinging it over one arm. When they were finally packed up, they pushed the car over to the side of what Glory kept calling a road, locked the doors, and started walking.

For a while they were pacing single file, their heads bowed toward the ground. Then he stepped up beside her and placed one hand softly on her waist. Her body shifted slightly until she was walking in the crook of his arm.

“You grew up here,” he said, breaking the silence. “Is the lake nearby? The one that you’re trying to save?”

“Black Lake?” A small headshake. “No, it’s on the far side of town near the old mill.”

She lapsed into silence for a few long minutes, and they walked along enjoying the evening air. After a couple of minutes, she let out a soft sigh. “This road might not be near the lake, but I’ve been out here before. Back in high school, this is where everyone would come driving. I had my first kiss along this road. This is where the first boy got underneath my sweater. The captain of the baseball team. He had cold hands, and he thought that he was so damn cool.”

“Cold hands are inexcusable.” Luke realized his voice was frosty. He’d never been the jealous type, and there was no reason for him to be angry that she’d let some boy get to second base years earlier. The lucky bastard. That didn’t stop his hands from curling into fists. “I hope you dumped him.”