Mine Until Dawn (25 page)

Vince was halfway across the banquet hall when he realized guests were pouring into the room. A sweeping glance indicated Bouchard wasn’t one of the already-seated guests. He entered the cocktail lounge and came face to face with the Fitzgeralds.

“Knight, we were looking for you,” Baron Fitzgerald said. “Where’s Jade?”

What was he supposed to tell them? That he’d messed up royally and pissed off their little sister? He hated lying to these people, but he had no choice. “She’s in the ladies’ room upstairs. I’m going to get her right now.”

“We’re at table eight. That’s left of the podium,” Faith told him as she passed him.

Vince nodded and hurried toward the foyer. Guilt dodged his footsteps. He’d spent years avoiding feeling this way. No, he’d spent years avoiding situations that would lead to these feelings. Yet since Jade walked into his life, nothing else seemed to matter. Not his past, not his training, and definitely not the promise he’d made himself to never, ever look back. Nothing made sense.

He headed for the stairs, taking two steps at a time. The more he thought about what happened out there on the porch, the more disconcerted he felt. It was the same kind of feeling he used to have before going undercover for a story. Completely unsure of what to expect. Wary.

Vince shook his head. This was ridiculous. There was no need to feel off-balance. He would make it up to Jade the only way he knew how. In bed. Once they released their pent-up emotions, things would go back to normal.

He reached the second floor and paused to get his bearing. To his left were the restrooms, and beyond it, a partially opened door through which he could see a round table, floor lamps, and comfortable sofas. The solarium. He turned and headed right, pausing when he reached the first door. Suite Eight.

Vince stopped two doors down the hallway, outside Suite Six, and knocked. A mumbled command to enter filtered through the closed door, but years of being cautious made him hesitate. What if….

Angry at himself for giving in to paranoia, again, he turned the knob, pushed open the door, and took a step inside. In a flash, he noted the queen cherry bed with plaid duvet, matching the ottoman, and the stiffed chair overflowing with…female apparel?

The light went off and a swishing sound he recognized only too well reached his ears. Vince dived forward, but he wasn’t fast enough. The dragon tail sliced across his right temple before he hit the floor.

***

Jade squinted into the dark, her eyes burning with unshed tears. The temperature was dropping fast, but that wasn’t the reason she shivered. To finally admit she’d fallen in love with a man so wrong for her was sobering. Definitely not the smartest move she’d made in her adult life. Not that her brain had anything to do with it. But, she got herself into this, and she’d get herself out of it.

How did one go about falling out of love anyway? It wasn’t as though Vince was Mr. Horrible all the time. He could be so sweet. The way he’d helped at her cousin’s bachelorette party, carried her when she was asleep and carefully removed her shoes. Then there were his kisses, the way he’d enjoyed touching her and making her….

Her eyes swam and burned with unshed tears. Maybe she’d better concentrate on his bad points—his arrogance, secretiveness, and distrust.
 
A tear slipped down her cheek, and Jade swiped at it, annoyed that she’d allow it to fall. After her ex-husband, she’d promised to never be brought this low, yet the more she stayed around Vince, the more she’d be drawn into a vortex of emotions. She couldn’t afford to go down that path, again.

Now what?

Getting out of here sounded pretty good for starters. She had a copy of the key to his apartment, and she didn’t need to call for a taxi to get her there, either. Her brother Lex was a creature of habit, so it was a sure bet he’d used the same limo company and driver he’d favored these past years. The driver, Leo something-or-the-other, knew her by name and would have no problem giving her a ride.

Jade dragged in a sharp breath and glanced at the quickly filling banquet hall. She couldn’t see Lex, although Baron and the others were already seated at a table. Going through the banquet room was definitely out. That left the stairs to her right.

Shoulders hunched, she headed for the stairs, stopped on the staging area for golfers waiting to tee off at Number One and sighed with frustration at the fleet of limos. It was next to impossible to locate which limo was Leo’s. Better call him and ask him to pick her up at the front.

Instead of going toward the parking lot, Jade took off in the opposite direction, heading for the front entrance and the front desk. Having no cell phone was such an inconvenience. Tomorrow, she must replace the one she’d lost.

She was entering the foyer when she spied Bouchard escorting a familiar, pretty blonde into the dining room. Wasn’t the ambassador supposed to be meeting with Vince right this moment or were they already done? She glanced at her watch. It was less than five minutes since Vince left. Not that it should be any of her concern, right? Still, Jade glanced around as she crossed to the front desk, expecting Vince to materialize.

“May I use your phone, please?” she asked the lady at the front desk.

“Hey, sis,” Chase called from behind her before the woman could respond.

Sighing, Jade turned to face her brother. He was still in a waiter’s uniform, which came to her rescue as a deflecting topic. “I thought you were changing into you tux for the dinner and the speeches, Chase.”

“Not when I’m once again a waitress short. The one who arrived late has disappeared on me.” He glanced around, a frown on his handsome face.

“Maybe you need to call the agency and log a complaint.”

“Oh, I intend to call Sammy after this. She’ll want to know about the woman. I’ve never had problems with temps from her agency before.” His attention turned to her. “Where’s Knight? He told Baron he was on his way to get you from the upstairs bathroom a couple of minutes ago. The two of you should be seated. We’re getting ready for the first course, you know.”

Upstairs bathroom? Had he met with Bouchard in the solarium? It was the only logical place for a private meeting upstairs. A very short meeting considering Bouchard’s presence downstairs. Her gaze shifted from the stairs to her brother.

“Chase, did the ambassador of Saint-Noel and his companion just arrive from upstairs?” At her brother’s distracted and confused look, she explain, “Distinguished guy with long hair pulled back, white dinner jacket—”

“I know who he is. One of the waiters just escorted them into the….” His voice trailed off when one of his employees caught his attention. He glanced at her, his expression impatient. “I’ve got to go, sis. Find your man and get seated, pronto. Table eight with the rest of the gang, left side of the podium. The ambassador and his companion were with Wilkinson the last ten minutes. He declined to be seated when I escorted Wilkinson to his table.”

Then where was Vince? Probably waiting upstairs. Even as she told herself she should leave him alone, her legs carried her toward the stairs. By the time she reached the second floor, Jade was convinced she’d wasted her time checking on Vince. The man was an adult, and could take care of his business without her wringing her hands like a lovesick fool over his safety.

Besides, what could possibly happen? Bouchard wasn’t stupid enough to pull something here. Jade stopped at the top of the stairs, angled her heard to listen, her eyes sweeping the hallway. The lights blazed in the hallway, and she could hear sounds coming from behind the doors of some of the closed suites. The solarium lights were off, but the door was open.

Yeah, he was probably in there, waiting with that infinite patience he projected so well. She started forward.

“Vince?” she called out, pushing the door wide with more force than necessary. Her eyes darted around the room, expecting to see his tall figure.

The room appeared empty.

Jade released a long shaky breath, refusing to panic. Nevertheless, her heart thumped hard with dread. She hit the light switch and the sconces accenting the walls lit up. Quickly, she walked forward, checking around the tables and couches. The room had six bays, each with its large square skylight, furnished differently, and separated by ornate pilasters.

Nothing out of place, and no Vince.

“Vince?” Her voice came out squeaky. She cleared it and tried again. The second time, it came out louder, though still laced with fear. She thought she heard a sound out in the hallway and whirled around. Blood roared in her ears, the pulse in her temples and throat thumping furiously. Her hand pressed on her chest and for a brief moment, she thought she was on the throes of an arrhythmia attack. Swallowing hard, Jade retraced her steps and peered in the hallway

Empty.

She was beginning to imagine things. Jump at her shadow. She hurried forward, paused outside the men’s bathroom and angled her head. “Anybody in there?”

No response.

“Vince?”

Silence.

Swallowing nervously and praying she didn’t catch some man in the process of doing his business, Jade pushed the door and peeked in. A shaky sigh of relief escaped her when it appeared deserted. She stepped further into the room, bending to check under the toilet doors.

No feet. No Vince.

How could a grown man disappear without a trace?

Jade started to retrace her steps when something on the edge of a garbage disposal caught her eyes—parts of a wig and a white cloth. The garbage bins were conveniently placed alongside the sinks. Not bothering to question her actions, she moved forward and pulled out the items.

A brunette wig with blonde highlights and a silk blouse with ruffles, like the ones the waitresses wore tonight. Chase’s missing waitress. She peered into the garbage and blinked at the tissues smudged with red lipstick and Lord knows what else hidden under them.

Okay, this was way over her head. She was a professor for chrissakes, not a detective.

Despite the silent pep-talk, Jade didn’t leave the wig and blouse behind. She draped her wrap securely around her shoulders, tucked her purse under her armpit, and bunched the evidence in her hand. Hurrying out of the men’s room, she headed back for the stairs.

She squinted at the hallway with doors leading to private suites. Nothing seemed out of place, but that didn’t mean anything either. She’d check Vince’s car, if it was still there, talk to the security about his disappearance. Bouchard would be stupid to hurt him with all these people here tonight, including the police commissioner.

She was close to the stairs when she heard the sounds. Thump. Thwack. Bump.

Scowling, she stopped in mid stride and angled her head, her heart almost stopping. The sounds came again, sounding more like curses. It’s none of your business, Jade. Keep going. Members had a right to do whatever they chose in the privacy of these suites. Her legs trembling, she continued forward.

She reached the top of the steps when a thought occurred to her. What if Vince was in that room needing her help? Her feet faltered and her gaze zoomed on the door as though to see through it. Fear clogged her throat, yet she couldn’t leave. Not without checking.

What a fool she was for loving that man, she scolded herself and stared longingly down the stairs. The people downstairs would hear her if she screamed, wouldn’t they? She pushed aside the urge to run, took a deep breath, and crept past the steps.

No more sounds came from the room down the hallway, not a squeak. She inched closer, her back against the opposite wall, her knees knocking.

She was a few steps away from Suite Six when she felt the pressure on her chest. Shortness of breath. Lightheadedness.

Oh, no. Not an arrhythmia attack. Not now. Panic coursed through her.

Do ‘vagal maneuvers,’ Jade. Right now.

She took a deep breath, held it, then she strained hard, as though blowing a trumpet.
One Mississippi…two Mississippi...three Mississippi….

After ten seconds, her lungs started to burn. She exhaled, and once again, gulped, held, and bore down. Over and over she performed the exercises, praying they’d restore her heartbeat to a normal rhythm before someone charged out of Suite Six. She couldn’t afford to have a serious episode, or the subsequent trip to an emergency room, a catheter pushed in her heart. It had been years since she had a serious attack, but she remembered, and dreaded, that catheter. Maybe she’d be better off downstairs. Just in case.
  

Jade turned to head toward the stairs just as the door to Suite Six opened. She swallowed, steeled herself, and glanced back from the corner of her eyes. Shock slammed through her and her legs threatened to give out. She released the air she’d been holding and opened mouth to scream.

CHAPTER 18

“Jade. Don’t.”

Her eyes wide, she slumped against the wall.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Vince offered her his hand, but she cringed, confirming what he already knew. With his bruised face and bloodied shirt, he reasoned he must look a sight. Angling his head so his injuries weren’t visible to her, he scowled, noting the helpless, cornered look in her eyes. She appeared to have trouble breathing. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Her words were disjointed, barely audible. “It won’t last long.”

What wouldn’t last? She took in a mouthful of air, held it until her eyes swum with tears. Was she having a panic attack? His mother’s face floated in his mind, eyes rolling in the back of her head, body jerking, and limps twitching. The years he’d spent blocking the past melted into nothing. Horror, huge and powerful, pulled at him, sucking him straight into a place so dark and scary he couldn’t think or breathe.

Stop it. It is not the same.

Vince’s heart beat hard and uneven, his face damp. His gaze found Jade, and reason returned. She was conscious, on her feet, even managing a word or two. Not lying on the ground, thrashing about.
This
was just a panic attack, and he wasn’t a child anymore. He needed to be strong, not relive a crippling past that was best forgotten. He took another deep breath, put his own demons aside, and concentrated on Jade.

Vince ignored the way she stiffened when he gripped her shoulders and peered into her eyes.
 
“What can I do to help?”

She wiggled her shoulder, trying to dislodge his hands, and it dawned on him. She was still angry.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier, baby. Okay? Just tell me what I need to do—”

 
“Privacy,” she cut him off, her voice low and strained. “Go.”

Vince knew the right thing to do was turn around and let her be, but he couldn’t leave. He didn’t want to. The haunted look in her eyes called to him, told him that she needed him. Just like his mother had needed him before every attack. He pushed the thought aside.

Their eyes locked in a duel of sort, Jade’s flashing with anger, his apologetic yet reassuring, he hoped. He felt so inept. Doing nothing went against his nature. Every gulp of air she took squeezed his heart, caused his chest to ache. He held his breath, waiting anxiously until she exhaled before he did.

Watching her struggle, so brave but vulnerable, a realization hit Vince hard in the plexus. He would willingly put his life on the line to protect this woman.

He let her go long enough to unbutton his bloodied shirt, shrug it off, and let it drop on the floor, leaving him in his white cotton undershirt. He reached for Jade and hauled her into his arms, wincing at his throbbing bruises. He ignored his own pain and concentrated on her.

She was stiff and unyielding, but he didn’t care. Later, she could kick him from here to hell and back, or refuse to have anything to do with him. But he’d be nuts if he let her deal with this alone.
  

Tucking her head under his chin, he rubbed her back and murmured soothing words. He added apologies—for scaring her, being a jerk, involving her in his investigation, accusing her mother of stealing his statue. He couldn’t believe she came upstairs to look for him after what he’d said, but was happy she did.
  

Vince felt the tremors coursing through her and the telltale wetness on his shirt from her tears. He continued to rock her, trying to absorb her pain and cursing himself for causing it. Slowly, her body relaxed and her breathing becoming even.

He leaned back to study her face, but she refused to meet his eyes. He lifted her chin with his forefinger until their gazes met.

The haunted look was gone, but her beautiful hazel eyes were red-rimmed, her lashes wet. She’d chewed off her lipstick, leaving her lips natural pink. God, she was gorgeous, even after a bout of crying. He pushed a lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

“Feeling better?”

She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hands and nodded jerkily. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Sure you want to thank me? Not deck me?”

She scrunched her face at his teasing voice. “Why would I want to do that?”

“For nearly scaring you to death. For not giving you your space when you asked for it. I deserve a mean upper cut.” He winked at her when she smiled. “Just make sure it’s on this side of my face, though.” He tapped his uninjured cheek. “The other side has received one too many lashes tonight.”

The transformation was instantaneous. Her eyes widened as she stepped back. “Your face…I completely forgot.” She reached up and cupped his unhurt cheek. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful,” she said when he winced, then gently turned his head for a better look at his bruise. “Oh, Vince. You need to see a doctor.”

The wound hurt like crazy, and he probably needed a few stitches, but it would heal. The physical ones always did. But Jade’s gentle touch and the concern shinning in her eyes were like a balm to his soul, healing wounds that had festered for years.

Vince grinned. “It’s just a scratch, baby. You should see the other guy.” He nodded toward the suite, not feeling an ounce of guilt for bragging.

Jade looked at the partially opened door, then back at him. “Your attacker is still in there?” she whispered.

“Oh, yes. I’m waiting for Eddie.”

She blinked. “My cousin?”

Vince nodded. With Bouchard wanting his head, he’d decided on a new game plan. “I’m going to be straight with the cops from now on. I’ll even report the theft of the statue and talk to them about the events at Cohen’s gallery.” Once he explained everything that had happened to his aunt, he was sure she’d understand his reason for coming clean. The secrecy hadn’t sat well with him anyway. “If anything serious happens to me, I want them to know where to look.”

“Bouchard’s.” Her tone was absentminded, her attention back on his face, her fingers pressing on his swollen cheekbone.

“Exactly. Like you’d told me, Eddie already knows a lot.” He pulled her hand away from his face. No matter how tempting it was to stand there and let her fuss over him, he had to keep an eye on his attacker. He pushed open the door and pulled her inside.

The lights from the bathroom bathed the messy room—the overturned chairs and table, the dislodged bedding, the broken lamps. Vince’s gaze zeroed in on his still unconscious attacker on the floor.

“This way.” He tried to steer Jade away from the man and toward the bathroom.

“It’s like a tornado ripped through here.” Squinting, her gaze darted around the room until she saw the man on the floor. Eyes wide, she stepped back.

“Is he…?” Her voice trailed off.

“Dead? No. Just unconscious.” Vince let go of her hand and made no attempt to stop her when she took another step back. He wouldn’t get in her way or blame her if she chose to leave.

Chewing on her lower lip, Jade’s gaze drifted from Bouchard’s man. “Are you sure? His body is twisted at such an odd angle.”

“That’s because I tied him up with his bullwhip. The same one he used on me. Believe me, I’d know if he were dead.” He hadn’t mastered the internal art of kung-fu to take people’s lives. Not even of those who wanted him dead. Bouchard’s foot soldier had no such qualms. “Bouchard sent him to kill me. Dressed as a waitress earlier, he told me to meet Bouchard in this room. But when I got here,” he nodded toward the immobile figure on the floor, “he was waiting for me.”

Jade moved back to his side, eyes flashing with anger. “Conniving bastard. While he was slobbering all over me, he was planning this.” She told him about her brother’s intention to file a complaint with the owner of the temp company he’d used to hire the missing waitress and the damning evidence she’d found in men’s room.

Vince sent the info in his RAM for retrieval later. Maybe Eddie wouldn’t mind checking into the temp company, too. Going by the way Bouchard operated, the real waitress was probably in a garbage dumpster somewhere.

“What were you doing in the men’s bathroom?” Vince asked.

Jade bumped him with her shoulder and threw him a mocking look. “Looking for you, silly. It’s a good thing I did, too. Maybe there’s something in his things that could tie him to Bouchard.”

Vince pulled out a keycard from his pants pocket. “He had this in his pocket, but no identification. Since it has the club’s logo, I assumed it’s for this room. I was about to try it when I saw you.” He wanted to bring up the panic attack, but the way she winced made him decide to keep it for later. How often did she have the attacks and what triggered them? He needed to be prepared. “I wondered about the woman staying in this room, though. She could be Bouchard’s accomplice.”

“He escorted a woman to dinner tonight. It shouldn’t be hard to find out if she’s the one staying in this room.” Jade nodded toward the bathroom. “Let’s go. I need to see the damage to your face. Meanwhile, you can tell me why Bouchard’s man doesn’t have a mark on him, yet he’s unconscious, while you, with blood all over your face and one eye almost swollen shut, are walking around, all chirpy.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Mad skills, baby.”

“Smartass. Sit.” She pointed at the closed toilet bowl once they entered the spacious restroom.

Vince took a look at his face in the mirror above the sink and groaned. Oh man, no wonder Jade had lost it out there. It would take days for the swelling to subside, and he didn’t have days. Tonight was supposed to be special, but his banged up face was sure to turn Jade off. That alone was enough to make him want to nail Bouchard.

“It’ll look better once I clean it.”

Jade’s reassuring voice intruded on his thoughts as though she knew exactly what was on his mind. When she tugged on his arm, Vince sat and watched her borrow a face towel from the bathroom rack and wet it. He closed his eyes as she started to clean his face, her touch gentle and careful.

It was funny how the moment made the bigger picture become so clear. He wanted this woman in his life. The gentle touch of her hand on his body. The familiar scent of her warm skin teasing his senses. The melodious ring of her voice in his ears. Things he’d deliberately shunned, but now couldn’t imagine living without. There was only one slight problem. He wasn’t looking for commitment. What could he possibly offer a woman outside great sex? Vince scowled. With Jade, he couldn’t even use that as leverage.

“How did Eddie react to your call?”

“He showed interest until I mentioned where I was, then he lost it. Cursed the air blue, threatened to haul me to jail if I so much as left this suite. What’s up with that?”

“Coming here, I guess. Eddie doesn’t like Wilkinson much. Or your father,” she added apologetically. “Don’t ask me why. He’s never explained. Anyway, I just hope he doesn’t do anything crazy.”

 
“Like?”

“Arrive here with the siren blaring.”

Vince scowled. He hoped he did the right thing contacting the hard-nosed detective. The last thing he needed was for Bouchard to know his man hadn’t succeeded.
  

“Done. All we have to do is take you to an emergency room and have it stitched.”

Vince stood to check her handiwork just as the door to the suite banged open.

***

 
Bouchard made no attempt to enjoy his dinner or listen to the boring political speeches. Yannick hadn’t called as pre-arranged, which could only mean one thing. He’d failed. Obviously, he’d underestimated Knight. As for Yannick, such incompetence would not be tolerated. Retribution might not bring him closer to achieving his goals, but it would appease the anger churning in his gut.

Bouchard sipped his drink and smiled at his companions. The actress was no longer useful to him. The police commissioner and his wife, on the other hand, had lots of possibilities. The man had been kind enough to give him his business card, with their home phone number scribbled on the back.

The knowledge that he could manipulate them or anyone, plot and execute anything right under their noses and get away with it usually brought him a lot of satisfaction. Not tonight. His hand tightened around his crystal wine glass. Vince Knight. It was all his fault.

No more depending on incompetent underlings. He must find out more about his nemesis, his weaknesses. Every man had one.

“So, Commissioner? Is it true you’re close to finding out the identity of the person behind Judge Abe’s little accident?”

The smile died on Bouchard’s lips at the actress’ question and a crushing grip locked on his chest. That old fool Montague had left witnesses?

The commissioner took his time wiping his mouth before putting the napkin down. “I’m sorry, Ms. Evans. I’m not at liberty—”

“You are investigating the incident, though, aren’t you? The suicide theory didn’t come from your department. In fact, your people, including you, have refused to comment on it since it happened. But you’re among friends now, Commissioner.” She smiled at Bouchard and winked at the Commissioner’s wife. “We promised not to run to the tabloids. Is it true that you’re close to solving the case?”

The man looked cornered, and in a different situation, Bouchard would have intervened. However, he wanted to hear the man’s response.