Authors: Jo Barrett
“We were just leaving,” he said hoarsely, looking deep into her eyes.
“But you cannot go.
The evening has just begun,” Henri said.
She returned Travis’ heated gaze.
“Yes.
We were just leaving.”
Henri chuckled.
“Ah, I am too late again, I see.”
“Pardon?”
She turned to face the unusually staid artist.
“I wish you luck,
chérie
.”
He kissed each cheek, looked at Travis, nodded his head then turned and walked away.
Travis didn’t waste any time.
“Come on.
We’re getting out of here.”
He grabbed hold of her hand and headed for the door.
Bobbi could feel her body quaking with anticipation.
Right or wrong, she would have this time with him.
She smiled at his broad back as he barreled his way through the crowd.
The firm grip on her hand, the swiftness of his stride said how much he wanted her, and sex wasn’t the only driving force.
A connection existed between them that could not be denied.
The evening air brushed her cheeks and cooled her skin as they stepped through the gallery doors.
He slowed his stride, allowing her to slip her arm through his and walk easily beside him.
She glanced up at his chiseled profile.
Her skin flushed anew.
The thought of spending the rest of her life with this spectacular man pulled at her heart, setting her mind adrift with the possibilities.
His sudden stop snapped her back to the present.
“I’ll distract them while you make a run for it.
I’ll find you later,” he said quietly.
Distract them
?
She looked ahead and focused her eyes on a mountain of a man staring menacingly at them.
One of Steele’s men.
She could feel the gentle pressure of reassurance from Travis’ hand before he let go.
“Run.
Now,” he said.
She looked back and forth between the men, her mind racing.
No, she couldn’t leave him.
They’d kill him, and then they’d have the disk.
She was certain Travis had it on him somewhere.
He wouldn’t trust any sort of hiding spot that wasn’t within immediate reach.
That stupid piece of plastic was the only thing that would end their horrible nightmare.
He took a side step away from her.
“Bobbi, get out of here.”
She closed the space between them, calling up all of her courage.
“No.”
Muttering a low growl, he reclaimed her hand.
“You are the most stubborn female I’ve ever known.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
They exchanged fleeting smiles.
“Well, isn’t it a small world.”
The sickeningly sweet voice crawled down her spine like a spider.
Travis’ warm hand slid to the small of her back as they turned around together.
“Too small,” Travis replied.
“I do believe you’re not very happy to see me, Agent Reid.
Pity.
And I’ve so looked forward to seeing you.”
Bobbi studied the squat little man, flanked on either side by two enormous bodyguards, taking in every detail.
He could only be Phillip Steele.
Odd how her imagination had painted him in a much more interesting light.
Handsome even, but in reality he was nothing of the sort.
He stood not much taller than her, was heavy set, and chewing on the stump of a cigar.
Basically, he disgusted her.
“And this must be the charming Barbara McBride.”
His left eye twitched, as he looked her over.
“Or should I say, Mrs. Claymore?”
His leering gaze turned her stomach.
She really wished she hadn’t drunk quite so much champagne and eaten so little food.
Then again the thought of throwing up on Phillip Steele did paint a somewhat satisfying picture.
Travis slipped his fingers between hers and squeezed.
She forced herself to remain calm, to keep the horrible quivering inside, determined not to let him know how frightened she was.
He would only worry more about her when what he needed to be doing was thinking of a way to save their rear-ends.
“What?
No words of greeting, Ms. McBride?
Well, we’ll have a nice little talk later,” Steele said.
She shuddered.
And to think the sleek European sleaze ball at the cabin gave her the creeps.
“Let her go, Steele.
She’s got nothing to do with this.”
The deep threatening tone of Travis’ voice didn’t generate so much as the bat of an eyelash from the man.
“On the contrary.
I believe she has something of mine.”
Steele cut his eyes back to Travis, shifting the cigar butt from one side of his mouth to the other.
“Or perhaps you have what I want.
Either way, I’ll have it.
Now, if you’d be so kind as to come with us.
I’m certain we can clear up this little misunderstanding.”
With a small shove from the man behind them, she and Travis were forced to follow Steele and the two overgrown bulldogs at his side.
They made their way along the curving road away from the gallery toward one of the large casinos.
Her palms sweated from fear and the inevitable outcome that would result from this meeting.
Their deaths.
All the things she meant to do with her life, the carvings she wanted to create, the places she wanted to visit fell away.
Travis was all she could think about.
She would never know his kiss again, the feel of his warm firm body pressing against hers.
She would never see his eyes crinkle up when he laughed or the roguish grin that made her heart skip when he teased her.
Her stomach made a fleeting bid of remembrance for his great skill in the kitchen.
She wished wholeheartedly it hadn’t.
The nausea grew worse.
She began with a subtle moan and a hand over her abdomen.
A worried frown crossed Travis’ face then disappeared as she squeezed his hand, hoping he would catch on.
There wasn’t much more time before they’d be ushered inside, away from public eyes.
She stopped at a sharp curve in the sidewalk where the landscaped grounds of the casino began.
Thick bushes and tall hedges lined the edge of the walkway.
Bending, she clutched her stomach with one hand and held fast to Travis with the other.
“Oooooh.”
“Move it,” the man behind them ordered.
“I feel sick.
Those awful hors d'oeuvres.”
She leaned heavily on Travis’ arm carefully following his casual maneuvering toward the low railing edging the sidewalk.
“Quite a performance, Ms. McBride, but I’m afraid it isn’t quite good enough.
Shall we?” Steele said politely, motioning with his hand toward the front doors of the casino.
Bobbi focused her thoughts on her nausea, preparing herself to project the contents of her stomach toward the offensive little man, when screeching tires and startled screams brought her head up.
A taxicab weaved back and forth across the narrow road, barely missing bystanders and cars that lined the street.
The goon behind them shouted a warning before lurching toward his boss as the cab popped the curb, heading straight for them.
Strong, familiar arms grasped Bobbi by the waist and launched her over the railing and the first row of bushes.
She felt the split in the side of her dress tear up to her hip as she landed on her bottom in a small grassy area.
A moment later Travis hit the ground beside her flat on his stomach with a deep groan.
Was he hurt?
She hadn’t heard any gunfire, only shouts, and the sound of running feet and a car horn.
But hurt or not, they had to get out of there.
Steele’s men would be after them the minute they got their boss to safety.
“Travis!”
As she struggled to her feet, the cloth of her sequined dress tangling between her legs, she hurried to him.
“Run, Bobbi,” he said, rolling to his back.
“No, I won’t leave you.”
Grabbing his arm, she pulled with all her might.
He had to get up.
They had to run.
It was their only chance.
“Hurry!”
“No!
I’ll just slow you down.”
“Wonderful,” she grumbled.
“Leave it to me to fall in love with a martyr.”
“What did you say?”
Using her as leverage, he got to his feet.
She pulled his arm across her shoulder to give him support.
“I won’t leave you, you big dummy.
I love you.”
“Now’s a fine time to tell me.”
“Can we discuss this later?”
Gripping his waist she guided her hobbling hero deeper into the dark cover of the tall hedge until they emerged on the other side into the plaza.
The large area overflowed with tourists coming and going from the smaller casinos that didn’t insist on formal dress.
Hopefully they could get lost among the crowd.
They couldn’t go back to their hotel.
Steele already knew where they were staying and under what name.
“In here.”
He steered her into one of the casinos, angling his way toward the restrooms in the back.
“Go in the ladies’ room, get cleaned up, and stay there.”
“But
—
”
“For God sakes, Bobbi.
Don’t argue.
Just do it.”
Her hands clutched the material of his jacket, bunching up the once smooth lapels now smudged with dirt.
“No.
I won’t leave you.
You’re hurt.”
She couldn’t contain the fear and panic in her voice any longer.
He jerked his head from side to side, fully taking in their surroundings, then pulled her deep into the shadows of the alcove.
Huddled together in the dim light, he lifted his hands to cradle her face.
Her next breath belonged to him.
His mouth caressed hers feverishly, banishing her fears and inflaming her soul.
The kisses she thought they would never share again were still possible.
They still had a chance.
“Travis,” she breathed.
“Shh.”
His lips glided along the edge of her jaw toward her ear.
“Please, sweetheart.
Go in there and stay put.
Understand?”
Her fists gripped the lapels of his jacket tighter, refusing to release him.
“No, I don’t understand.
How will I know when to come out?”
She could feel his chest expanding with the deep intake of air into his lungs as he pressed her firmly against his body.
A sharp pang of fear streaked across her heart.
Was this goodbye?
Was he going to confront Steele without her?
He gripped her shoulders and peered into her tear-filled eyes.
“You’ll know.
Now go.”
Her head spun as he jerked her around and pushed her through the archway leading to the ladies’ room.
The door hardly closed behind her before she fell limply onto a cushioned bench.
Would she ever see him again?
Could she live the rest of her life without him?
Had that really been a goodbye kiss?
“Oh God, please no,” she whispered.
The chatter of women brought her out of the haze of despair twining around her heart.
He told her to get cleaned up and that’s what she would do.
If anything, it would keep her busy while she waited.
But waited for what?
Setting aside the questions, she stood on shaky legs and stepped up to the row of sinks.
She didn’t look too bad.
A small smudge of dirt on her cheek and one on each elbow was all there was, but her dress had been put through the wringer.
Unable to do anything about the missing sequins, she decided to work on the large dirt splotches on her bottom.
Her pantyhose was ruined and had to go, but what to do about the extra long split up her side?
The world could see the thong she bought for the occasion.
The thong she thought, hoped, only Travis would see.
With a deep breath of determination, she stepped out of her shoes, peeled off her hose and tossed it in the garbage.
A few women gave her an odd glance, but ignored her for the most part.
She dabbed gently at the dirt, doing her best not to lose any more sequins.
The end result wasn’t perfect, but there really wasn’t more she could do.
Taking on the task of concealing the tear in her dress, she tried wrapping her cape around her hips, but it looked ridiculous.
She searched her purse for a safety pin, but no such luck.
Of course she should be grateful for still having her purse.
The long strap had wrapped around her neck in the mayhem along with the cape.
Perhaps if she put the two together.
Situating her purse to hang next to her hip, she loosely wrapped the chiffon around the strap.
Not perfect, but it was better than nothing.
She’d have to be careful not to let it swing when she left the bathroom.
Her mind flew back to Steele and the disk.
How long had it been?
It felt like hours.
She should never have let him go alone.
If anything was going to happen, she wanted to be there with him.
No matter what.
Sinking back down onto the bench with her eyes clamped shut and her hands fisted together, she prayed.
“Please keep him safe.
Please.”
“Sweetie, are you Mrs. Claymore?”
She lifted her eyes and carefully looked the elderly woman over.
A Yankees baseball cap sat cocked back atop her perfectly coifed white hair.
The tiny curls swept around the edges of the hat and over the collar of her baggy sweatshirt emblazoned with an ad for Hazel’s Hair Supplies.
She was American, but did she work for Steele?
Not likely, but
—
the restaurant.
Of course.
Travis had sent the waitress into the bathroom back home.
That meant he was alive and waiting for her to come out.
Only what if she was wrong?
What if it was Steele’s men out there waiting for her?
There was only one way to find out.
“Yes.
I’m Mrs. Claymore.”
The large cup of coins the woman carried jingled as she flopped down next to her on the bench with a nod.
“Schew.
I didn’t know I was so tired.
Walked too much today.
I should’ve stayed on the bus that last time.”
She plucked at her shirt, letting the soft puffs of air cool her flushed cheeks.
“How did you know I was Mrs. Claymore?”
She stopped plucking at her shirt and twisted to face Bobbi, a soft smile spreading across her thin lips.
“Your husband said to tell you he’s sorry.
He didn’t mean what he said and asked if you’d forgive him.
And he seemed so sincere.
He’s out there waiting for you right now.
Why don’t you two make up?
You seem like such a nice young couple,” she said, patting Bobbi’s hand affectionately.
“I’m, um, not sure I can forgive him.”
That still wasn’t enough proof it was Travis waiting for her.
“Oh sweetie.
He understands you and that artist are just friends.
He said he got a little carried away because he loves you so much.”
She swallowed the lump, forming in her throat.
“He said that?”
The woman nodded.
Bobbi wanted to tear out of the bathroom at full speed and leap into his arms and never let go, but she had to keep calm.
“Maybe I will give him another chance.”
She stood, adjusted her purse to cover the tear in her dress, and took her first shaky step toward the door.
Pausing with her hand gripping the handle, she turned back to the woman on the bench.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, sweetie.
Good luck to you.”
Smiling yet terrified, she eased out of the bathroom, unsure of what to expect.
He had to be all right to send that nice old woman into the bathroom after her.
The pounding of her heart echoed so loudly she could barely hear the noise coming from the slot machines.
Travis stepped out into the light.
“What took you so long? I was beginning to think Steele had found you.”
The air escaped from her lungs as she hurled herself into his arms, pushing them back into the shadows.
“I was afraid she wasn’t telling me the truth.
I didn’t know if it was a trap.”
Her body quaked uncontrollably with each word.
He pressed his face to her hair and breathed in deeply as he tightened his hold on her.
“God, I thought I’d lost you.
And after finally hearing you say what I’d been hoping for.”
She forced her head away from his shoulder to see his face.
She had to know.
She had to be sure.
“You have?”
“Yes, I have.
I love you, Bobbi.
Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
She drank in his soft smile and the sparkle of fire in his eyes.
He loved her.
He actually loved her.
Her smile faded.
“Who’s Sylvia?”
He closed his eyes as he let out a deep puff of air.
“Where did you hear about her?
Did Jase tell you?”
She shook her head.
“No.
You called out for her in your sleep.
You thought I was her.”
He smiled crookedly.
“She’s no one you need to worry about.”
“But
—
”
He kissed her, sending wave after wave of heat through her body, pulsing in time with the rapid beat of her heart.
Thoughts of what’s-her-name completely disappeared.
Bobbi wanted him, she ached for him, but not in an alcove.
“Travis.”
“I know.
We need to save the rest of this conversation for a safer place.”
“If that was talking, I can’t wait to see what comes next.”
He chuckled.
“God, I love you.”
He kissed her quickly then led her out of the casino.
He hailed a cab and told the driver to take them to Eze.
Once inside the taxi, she snuggled in against him, relishing the soft strokes of his fingers at the nape of her neck as the cab wound around the curves and bends of the mountain road.
“Why Eze?” she asked softly, so the cab driver wouldn’t hear.
His lips brushed the edge of her ear sending tingles down her spine.
“Your friend’s house is probably the only safe place for us at the moment.
I don’t think Steele caught up with us until tonight.”
Would they ever be safe?
Would this horrible dream ever end?
But all of it wasn’t bad.
There were some wonderful parts.
The man she loved with the deepest part of her soul said he loved her.
“So, um, who is Sylvia?” she asked softly, unable to let it go.
She wanted no more secrets between them.
He sighed and squeezed her tighter against his side.
“She was someone I cared about once.”
Toying with his lapel, she said, “And you don’t anymore?”
“She died.”
Bobbi lifted her gaze from his dirty jacket.