Taking Control Page 16

  Just one more night. That’s all she had to get through. All through the long day, as she’d ignored Declan’s calls, she’d done her best to paper over the cracks so she could hold it together just a little while longer.

  Then afterward she would take herself off somewhere, let herself fall apart, and then start the painful process of putting herself back together again.

  And all day, she’d been fighting the nagging doubts that she was being a coward. That if she turned her back on this, one day—maybe not straightaway, but eventually—she would regret it bitterly.

  Declan loved her.

  But she couldn’t let that matter. Could she?

  Declan didn’t appear. In fact, she didn’t recognize any of the people who exited the room. A tall, stunning older woman with blond hair and a dark purple dress. A younger woman who must be her daughter, their looks were so similar. And finally a man. For a brief second, she’d thought it was Declan. But only a second. Tall, with Declan’s midnight hair and sharp cheekbones. She was guessing this was the brother he’d mentioned. There was nothing of the respectable businessman in this man. All in black, with the black ink of tattoos visible at his throat and arms, he radiated bad-boy menace. Was this what Declan would have turned out like if he’d walked away from the role expected off him? A shiver ran through her.

  If this was Declan’s brother, then she was guessing that the two women were his mother and sister. Wow. It was hard to think of Declan as having a mother.

  The door had closed behind them and the small group stood just inside the room talking among themselves. A third woman joined them. She recognized Penny, dark hair perfectly cut in a bob, makeup subdued but also perfect, and a stunning floor-length black gown. She obviously knew the family well. They chatted for a moment, then all four started searching the room.

  Jess stepped back, mingling with the guests. The crowd was a mix of ages and types. Rory McCabe had an eclectic mix of friends. But if any were dodgy, they’d made an effort to hide it. She spotted Harry, a blonde on his arm, and waggled her fingers in his direction. The room reeked of affluence and respectability. All the same, she felt a twinge of unease, almost as though someone was watching her. This was the ideal setup if anyone wanted to get at Declan. Everyone would know he was here tonight. The place was a warren of dark corners where an assassin could hide.

  She’d discussed all this with the team and with Rory, but he’d assured her that no one would get past his security, and in the end they had let the night go ahead. Now she couldn’t help but think that was a mistake.

  The light was dim and she turned slowly taking everything in, analyzing it in her mind, looking for any discordant note, anyone who didn’t fit in. But could see nothing.

  Her gaze kept straying back to Declan’s brother, the one exception to the affluent and respectable description. The resemblance to Declan was uncanny. He’d separated from the little group and stood alone, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest as he watched the people around him. He radiated a faint sense of menace, like a panther who’d gatecrashed the party. As if sensing her gaze, he raised his head, and his eyes met hers, silver like Declan’s.

  He pushed off from the wall and strolled over, the guests parting for him. She’d thought his hair was short, but it was pulled back into a ponytail at his nape. He came to a halt in front of her and held out his hand. Black-and-red tattoos snaked down over his wrist and across the back of his hand. She took it in hers and watched his face. As she tried to pull away, his grip tightened.

  “Jessica, I presume?”

  “You do? You can drop my hand now. I’m quite capable of holding it up on my own.”

  His lips twitched, but he released his grip and her hand fell to her side. She resisted the urge to wipe it down her pant leg.

  “So you’re Jessica Bauer. Declan’s unsuitable youthful indiscretion.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re Logan McCabe. Declan’s unrespectable black-sheep brother.”

  He grinned. “I like the description.” His gaze dropped to wander over her body. It was weird; they looked so alike, but her body responded to Declan’s gaze like a touch. With this man, she felt nothing. “I can’t believe we never got to meet all those years ago.”

  “I believe you were a little indisposed.”

  “Shit, yeah. I was in the clink at the time.” He studied her. “You know, you and I would make a much better team. Declan’s way too stuffy for a woman like you.”

  “You know nothing about me.”

  “I’ve heard enough.”

  She couldn’t begin to imagine. “And I’ve had my fill of the McCabe men, thank you.”

  “Oh well. It was worth a try to rile baby brother up a little.”

  “Do you do that often?”

  “Whenever I get the opportunity. He was an insufferable little brat growing up. Always perfect, never in trouble.”

  “Unlike yourself.”

  “Yeah. At least come and meet the rest of the family. They are dying of curiosity.”

  “Really?” She wasn’t sure she was up to satisfying that curiosity, but she followed him anyway. She found the whole idea of Declan’s family unsettling. Maybe because she had demonized him for so long.

  The little group opened as they approached. The three women watched her with cool expressions. She was guessing however curious they were, they were all far too well bred to make it obvious.

  “Jessica, this is my step mama, Judith McCabe, my sister, Tamara, and”—he paused, a smile flickering at the corners of his mouth—“Penny, Declan’s ex-fiancé.”

  Jess had been studying Declan’s mother, now her gaze flashed to the younger woman, and she pursed her lips. “I hear you dumped him. Good move.”

  Logan choked back a laugh, but Penny merely smiled serenely.

  “Ms. Bauer.” Declan’s mother stepped forward and held out her hand.

  She so didn’t need this right now. Why hadn’t she made some sort of excuse and run away and avoided the whole fiasco?

  Because she couldn’t resist one last look at him.

  Where the hell was he anyway?

  She realized Declan’s mother had been standing arm outstretched for long seconds and she reached out and shook it briefly. What was she supposed to say—nice to meet you?

  It wasn’t. This woman was responsible for what Declan was today. And as far as Jess was concerned, she’d done a crap job.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you,” Declan’s mother said graciously. “I do hope we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the future.”

  She’d been staring at the black door; now she turned back, a frown drawing her brows together. “You do?”

  “I’d like to think past differences can be forgotten and we can all move on. Be friends. I’m glad I’ve had this opportunity to welcome you to the family.”

  Had she stepped into some weird alternate universe?

  “I’m not sure what Declan has told you, Mrs. McCabe, but I assure you I have no intention of becoming a member of your family.”

  “Call me Judith,” the woman said. “And I’m sure Declan will clear up any misunderstandings you may have.” She reached out and rested a hand on Jess’s arm. Jess stared at it through narrowed eyes. She didn’t want to call her Judith. She didn’t want to call her anything. After tonight, she had no intention of being within talking distance to this woman again.

  She wondered just how much Declan’s mother knew of their “misunderstandings.” And how the hell had a woman like this gotten mixed up with Rory McCabe?

  And how the hell dare she welcome Jess to the family as though it was a possibility.

  It wasn’t. She could never be part of this.

  Even if she wanted to.

  Which she didn’t.

  And in that moment, she hated Judith McCabe for even suggesting the idea. For putting it in her mind.

  Beside her, Logan leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “You look like you want to shoot h
er right now.”

  She cast him a sideways glance. “Maybe. And I do have a gun.” She forced a bright smile on her face. “Well, it was very nice to meet you all, but I’m working tonight, and now I really have to go and check the place out for bad guys.”

  She didn’t wait for anyone to say anything else, just whirled around and stalked off across the room.

  Welcome her to the family? Was the woman crazy?

  “Never going to happen,” she muttered.

  “What’s never going to happen?” an amused voice said from behind her. She glanced around, to find Logan still close by. As she opened her mouth to answer him, the black door opened and this time Declan stepped out.

  “Holy shit.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  For a moment the room faded, the sounds of the music and voices muting.

  Tall, dark, and dangerous. This was the bad-boy Declan she’d only ever dreamed about.

  Beside her Logan lowered his head. “You like?” he murmured. “You know, it’s the general opinion in the family that this vast improvement in Declan’s appearance is all for you.”

  “Really?” But she wasn’t paying attention, every cell focused on Declan. From his sexily tousled midnight hair, to the dark stubble that shadowed his jawline, and lower… She swallowed. The business suit was a distant memory, replaced by black leather pants that hugged his hips and long legs, and a black T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest. Heat washed through her, settling low down in her belly.

  She didn’t like to think she was so shallow as to be effected by a mere change of clothes but… “Holy shit,” she said again.

  Besides, it wasn’t so much that he’d changed his appearance, but the “why” behind it. What he was trying to convey? That maybe he could change? Maybe they both could.

  Dark glasses covered his eyes, but he took them off and stared straight at her, his gaze catching and holding hers, and a flame shot between them.

  For long seconds they stared at each other, and she couldn’t look away.

  She was a self-deluding idiot. If she left Declan now, she’d regret it from the moment she turned away. And probably for the rest of her life.

  Could she face her fears, overcome them?

  “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,” Logan said, but she hardly heard the words.

  She swallowed, quite unable to move as Declan headed toward her. He even walked differently, with the smooth glide of a predator, and something dark and needy uncurled inside her. As he drew closer, she saw another change, and her breath caught in her throat. His right arm showed the red skin and black ink of a brand-new tattoo. That was more than a change of clothes. It was a declaration of… She wasn’t sure, but she wanted to find out.

  He halted in front of her, and his gaze searched her face. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head, forcing her brain to function. “I think I might be.”

  She needed to touch him, check he was real, run her hands over the smooth leather… But as she took a step closer, she became aware of a prickle of unease. It shivered down her spine and she looked around for the source. In the army she’d learned to listen to her hunches. But again, nothing seemed out of place. She found the bodyguards at the edge of the room, their attention fixed on Declan. Steve turned to her, gave a small thumbs-up. All was well. She was being paranoid.

  Maybe they could leave now. Get away from this crowd.

  Talk.

  Do a whole load of other things.

  She turned her attention to Declan.

  …

  She didn’t look as though she’d gotten any more sleep last night than he had, with dark shadows under her eyes. But she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waitress and handed her one.

  She took it but didn’t drink.

  They were in the middle of the floor, and he could feel a multitude of eyes watching him. He wanted to take her away, but wasn’t at all sure that that wouldn’t signal the end of the night for her and she would vanish, never to be seen again. So instead, he placed a hand on her waist and steered her into a dark corner behind one of the pillars.

  Then he took the glass from her hand, put it down along with his on a nearby table, and pressed her up against the pillar. She didn’t push him away, and hope rose inside him. Cupping her face in his hands he slanted his mouth over hers, sliding his tongue between her lips, tasting her. He was already painfully hard, and he pressed his hips against her belly, felt her push back and moan softly in her throat.

  Finally, after long minutes, he drew back from the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. Her hands were under his T-shirt, around his waist, fingers digging into his skin.

  Christ, he wished they were alone somewhere. He wanted to lose himself in her, bury himself deep inside. She was going to walk away.

  He knew it, and a sense of powerlessness washed over him. He was unused to the feeling and had no clue how to combat it. He’d told himself that he would do whatever was right for Jess. He wouldn’t push her. But how the hell was he supposed to let her go?

  “How about we go get some fresh air?” he murmured against her skin. “I know of this great alley, just close by.”

  A smile flickered across her face, but then was gone. She shook her head. “We can’t risk it. Too many people know your whereabouts tonight. We have to keep you in clear sight.”

  He took a deep breath. Perhaps it was time to come clean. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She raised a brow. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “No. Really. My father fixed the problem, used his old contacts to call them off.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And this happened when?”

  He gave a small shrug. “The morning before we met at the club for lunch.”

  She pursed her lips as she studied his face. “So all this”—she waved a hand toward his bodyguards—“was a waste of time. And money.”

  “Not entirely. There’s still some doubt about who’s responsible for the letter bomb…” Then he shrugged. “Actually, that was really nothing more than an excuse.”

  “An excuse for what?”

  He took a deep breath. “To see you again.”

  He tried to read the emotions flashing across her face, but they were gone too quickly. Loosening her grip, she took a step back, then considered him, head cocked to one side. “Steve said you got drunk last night.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “Just that you’d felt the need to hit something and he’d taken you to the gym.” Her gaze wandered over him. “I like the new look.”

  “I couldn’t think of any other way to show you I can change.”

  She nodded toward his tattoo. “Can I see it?”

  He lifted his arm, and she trailed her fingers over the tender skin of his forearm. She peered closer to inspect it in the dim light and something flashed across her face. Sadness? Regret?

  He wasn’t sure, but nothing that boded well.

  It was the design she’d chosen for him all those years ago, their names entwined, with bloodred roses. The skin was puffy around the edges, but it was still easy to read.

  She sighed and stepped back and he had the feeling that it was too little, way too late. He’d hurt her too badly all those years ago, and now she wouldn’t risk letting him close again.

  “Jess, I just want you to know—”

  “Shh.” She reached out and rested a hand against his chest. “Don’t ask for anything tonight. Let’s just be together, not worry about the future.”

  And why would she say that if she believed they had a future. Well, if all he had was tonight, he wasn’t wasting it in the company of a whole load of people, most of whom he had no feelings for at all.

  “Let’s go then. To my place.” She looked a little skeptical. “Come on, Jess, I have one more night to persuade you that we can make this work.”

  For
a second he thought she wouldn’t agree. Then she gave a brisk nod. “Let’s get out of here.”

  As she turned away, she frowned and reached into her pocket, pulling out a cell phone. She listened for a few seconds, her eyes narrowing in concentration and then flicking to him. She took a step forward, rested her palm against his chest, and pushed him back into the shelter of the pillar, while her eyes scanned the room.

  Steve and the other guard for the night appeared out of nowhere as she closed off the call and put the phone back in her pocket. “You’ve heard?” she asked Steve.

  “Yes, we need to get him out of here.”

  Obviously, they’d discovered something, some danger, but what the hell could it be. He trusted his father—if he said the threat was fixed, it was fixed. But she’d learned something that she wasn’t happy with. “What is it, Jess?” A prickle ran down his back. Then he remembered the letter bomb that had devastated his apartment. They wouldn’t try anything like that here would they? Not with all these people…his family. “Tell me, goddammit.”

  “Jake just got some new information.” She pressed a finger to her forehead. “Did your father tell you who was involved?”

  “He said it was better I didn’t know.”

  “So he didn’t mention your assistant?”

  A frown tugged at his face. “Paul?”

  “Apparently the DNA from the letter bomb was a match.”

  That didn’t make sense. He would have sworn Paul was loyal to his father if not to him. “So he was in on the money laundering all along?”

  “Right now, we don’t know. Jake’s looking into it.”

  “Paul’s here tonight.”

  “I know. I spotted him earlier, but I haven’t seen him for a while. We have men searching the place and your father’s people have also been instructed to keep an eye out for him. They’ll find him.”

  She turned away and spoke briefly with Steve, then came back to him. “We’re going to get you out of here. This place is too difficult to keep you safe. Not only that, but if anyone starts shooting in here, it could get very messy. So we’re going to walk out of here.”

  “I don’t think so.”