“I don’t think it would work.”
“Because Sammy is more loyal to his father than you were?”
“He married Stacy to please my father.”
“One more reason to resent the old man.” Jake drummed his fingers on the side of the tub. “I wasn’t a part of your household long, but from what I saw, your father rode Sammy pretty hard. He wasn’t spoiled like you.”
She opened her eyes. “That’s because I was a woman—my father didn’t expect anything from me. He was hard on Sammy because he thought that was the way to make him hard, to prepare him to be the boss one day.”
“Maybe so. But that kind of treatment gets old, especially now that Sammy is a grown man. He’d probably jump at the chance to run the organization without your dad to interfere.”
“Sammy wouldn’t refuse to work with us out of loyalty to my father so much as he’d refuse in order to protect himself. If anyone thought he was on the side of the cops, he wouldn’t have any power, even with my father out of the way. And he could think that this would be letting the police get a wedge in. First, they take out his father, then they start in on him. He wouldn’t risk it.”
“Then what else can we do? Sammy is all we’ve got.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” She sat up straighter, water streaming off her shoulders and the tops of her breasts, distracting him. “There’s somebody else we can lean on to try to find out where my father is staying,” she said.
He forced his attention back to her face. “Who’s that?”
“His driver. He always has one. He’s not going to ride a shuttle like a common tourist, and he doesn’t drive himself. Instead, he has a car take him from wherever he’s staying, and drop him off at the base of the lifts. If we find the driver, we can either follow him back to the hideout, or we can try to persuade him to tell us the location of the house.”
“Talking is probably better than following. He’s liable to spot a tail and get suspicious. Outside of town, there isn’t much traffic.”
“Tomorrow morning, we should go to the drop-off area near the gondola and look for the driver. We might even see my father, which would confirm he’s here.”
“Have I told you lately that you’re brilliant?”
“Not brilliant enough to think of it before now.”
“That’s still brilliant.” He checked the elevator again; no one had come up. They were still alone. “Patrick Thompson is worried about you,” he said.
“He takes his job seriously.”
“Because he’s in love with you?” Thompson had denied any romantic feelings for Anne, but maybe she felt more deeply for the man who had rescued her from possible death.
She regarded him coolly. “Why? Are you jealous?”
“Yes.”
“Jake, don’t.” She put up a hand as if to physically push him away.
“I know things can’t be the way they were between us before,” he said. “But I want you to know, it meant a lot to me when you told Thompson you trusted me.”
“I do trust you, Jake. I’m just—we’re both different now.”
“I know. Just trust that I’m here if you need me—for whatever.”
She nodded and looked away. He wanted to reach across the foaming water and pull her to him, but he held back. He cared about her, but maybe some of what he felt for her was merely nostalgia for what they’d had once before. She had been right when she’d said they were different now. He didn’t know if he had it in him anymore to trust anyone the way he’d once trusted her.
The elevator opened, and a trio of young women emerged, giggling and talking, robes open over bright bikinis. They headed straight for the hot tub. Jake stifled a groan. So much for quiet relaxation. He turned to suggest they leave, and found Anne moving toward him. Before he could say a word, she covered his mouth with hers, and wrapped her arms around him. All coherent thought fled as he responded. For whatever reason, Anne was suddenly kissing him as if her life depended on it.
Chapter Fourteen
Jake’s lips against Anne’s felt both wonderfully familiar and excitingly new, she thought as she moved in closer. He wrapped strong arms around her and pulled her onto his lap, where the evidence of his desire pressed against her thigh, sending an almost-forgotten thrill through her. He slid one hand down her back to cup her bottom, and the thrill coalesced into full-on desire. She squirmed closer, and deepened the kiss, tasting him, unable to get enough of him.
“Ewww. Get a room!” a high-pitched voice said, followed by a chorus of giggles. Then the voices moved away.
Jake pulled back, just enough to slide his mouth to her ear. “Not that I’m sorry in the least, but what brought this on?” he asked.
“I didn’t want those girls disturbing us.”
“Mmmm.” He nibbled her ear, and pure, erotic pleasure shivered through her. “Now you’re the one who has me disturbed.” He moved his mouth back to hers and kissed her again, a deep, shuddering kiss that left her breathless and clinging to him, as if he’d turned her bones to butter.
“I...I was just trying to get them to go away.” She tried to move out of his arms, but he held her fast.
“So you were just acting. You didn’t really want to kiss me.” He traced the hollow of her neck with his tongue.
“Maybe I did.” Maybe she’d wanted to kiss him since that first night in Rogers, when he’d held her in his arms. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea.” Why start something they couldn’t finish?
“I think it’s a very good idea.” He cupped her bottom more tightly, and slid one finger into the leg opening of her swimsuit.
She gasped. “I...” But words failed her as he slipped one finger into her. He moved his other hand up to cup her breast, rubbing his palm over the sensitive nub of her nipple.
“Do you remember that night after your father’s birthday party?” he asked. “When we sneaked out to the pool after everyone was asleep?”
She had a sudden vision of moonlight on water, the cityscape behind them. Moonlight on the hard planes and honed muscles of Jake’s lithe body, naked as he dove into the water. She’d been naked, too, bold as she swam after him, then with him. They’d teased and tantalized each other, unashamed, then made love on a chaise longue by the edge of the water, no doubt providing entertainment for the guards who remained unseen, but whom she knew were on duty. Guards were always on duty in her father’s house.
“Th-that was Elizabeth,” she stammered, as he moved his finger to stroke her. “I’m Anne now.”
“And Anne doesn’t do things like this?” He bent his head and covered her breast with his mouth, kissing her through the thin, wet fabric of the suit.
“Jake, we can’t.” She put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him away. She retreated across the hot tub and wrapped her arms across her chest. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” His eyes burned into her. “We can go up to the room and finish this.”
She swallowed hard, fighting the images his invitation suggested, of naked bodies writhing in the sheets, of Jake doing things to her he did so well. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Is that your brain or your heart talking?”
“Jake, I don’t love you anymore. I can’t.”
“Can’t—or won’t?”
“It’s too dangerous.” She’d seen him die on that ballroom floor, bleeding to death in front of her, and for a while she hadn’t wanted to live, either. She couldn’t go through something like that again.
“Don’t tell me you don’t still want me,” he said.
“Yes, I want you. But...” Heat suffused her cheeks and she almost laughed. After all they’d done, to think she could still be embarrassed. “I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.”
“No one since me, you mean?” His voice grew husky. “I haven’t been with anyone, either.”
It would be so easy to move back into his arms, to give in to the longing that thrummed in every fiber of her being. To forget, for a blissful hour or so, about the danger that surrounded them and the uncertain future that loomed before them.
But the events of the past year had proved the folly of ever taking the easy route, or of letting emotion get the upper hand over sense. “I can’t start something with you that we can’t finish,” she said. “I’m not that reckless anymore.”
“Then I’ll be reckless enough for both of us,” he said.
“You know that’s not wise.”
“Since when was I ever a wise man? Especially where you’re concerned.”
“You’re one of the smartest men I know. Right now we need to concentrate on staying alive and finding my father.”
His expression grew pained. “You’re right, but it doesn’t make me happy to admit it.”
She’d once believed her job was to make herself happy, that everything would fall into place if she just focused on that. Her self-indulgence had almost gotten Jake killed, and had destroyed the life she’d known.
“I’d better go in,” she said.
Not waiting for his answer, she climbed out of the tub and slipped back into her robe and boots. As she crossed to the elevator, the three bikini-clad girls descended on him. She fought back a stab of jealousy. Maybe those girls were just what he needed to take his mind off her. She was determined not to complicate matters by getting involved with Jake again, but she wasn’t so strong she wouldn’t spend time mourning what might have been.
* * *
T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
, Jake and Anne were at the drop-off area at the base of the gondola at eight-thirty. The lifts opened at nine, and Anne said her father liked to get an early start, to beat the crowds and get the best lines in the freshly groomed snow and unpacked powder.
Neither of them had said a word about their exchange in the hot tub, though Jake couldn’t stop thinking about it. His skin still felt feverish from her touch, and he’d spent a restless night fantasizing about making love to her, hearing her scream his name in delight the way she used to.
For the hundredth time, he shoved the fantasy away. He had work to do. And she was right—he couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted.
From a table on the balcony of a coffee shop that overlooked the drop-off area, they watched a procession of SUVs, shuttle buses and sedans drop off skiers and snowboarders. A figure in red pants and a red jacket, his short-cropped white hair shining in the sun, crossed the courtyard on his way to the lift. “That’s Senator Nordley,” Jake said.
Anne studied the stocky man, who’d paused to speak with a trio of women near the lift. “He doesn’t look familiar,” she said. “I don’t think he was ever at the house while I was there.”
“It would be interesting to follow him and see what he does while he’s here.”
“He probably skis, and hits the bars and the shops, like everyone else who comes here on vacation,” she said. “And you’re supposed to be looking for my father, not politicians.”
“Right.” Just then, a black four-door sedan pulled into the line. He and Anne both leaned forward. “Is that him?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know yet,” she whispered, though there was no chance the occupants of the vehicle would hear her from up here.
The car eased into position at the head of the line and the back door opened. A man dressed in black ski pants and a black and white jacket slid out, followed by a second man, who went around to the trunk and took out two pairs of skis.
The first man looked up at the gondola, and for a moment the sun caught him full on the face. Anne gave a small cry, and Jake put his hand on her arm to steady her. “That looks like him, doesn’t it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
Jake studied the man more closely. He was trim, and tanned, silver hair showing beneath a black watch cap. Sunglasses shaded his eyes, but Jake remembered Sam Giardino’s intense blue gaze. Even from this distance, dressed in ski clothes, Sam radiated command. He strode toward the gondola, the man with him shouldering both pairs of skis. The car pulled away from the drop-off area, into the line of vehicles waiting to exit.
“Come on, we’d better get down there.” Jake stood and Anne followed him down the stairs and across the cobblestoned courtyard.
They’d discussed the plan last night and decided Anne would approach first—a tourist asking directions. While she had the driver distracted, Jake would make his move.
She hurried to the driver’s door. Jake wiped the sweat from his palms and gripped the pistol inside his coat pocket. The last thing he wanted was a shootout here, with all these people around, but if the driver tried anything with Anne...
She knocked on the driver’s window. Waited. Knocked again. Jake’s chest hurt from holding his breath. Maybe this wasn’t going to work.
Finally, the driver’s window lowered. Anne was supposed to play the role of the pretty, flirtatious tourist, buying time for Jake to slip in and surprise the driver. But the smile on her face vanished when she saw the driver. She covered her mouth with one hand, and used the other to brace herself against the car. Then she opened the passenger door behind the driver and climbed in.
The car inched forward in the line of departing vehicles. Anne was being driven away by a killer—or at least by a killer’s employee. This definitely wasn’t part of their plan. Gripping the gun in his pocket, Jake sprinted toward the car. Anne leaned forward and said something to the driver and the door locks clicked. When Jake tried the door, it was open, so Anne must have told the driver to let him in.
“Mr. Westmoreland. I’m surprised to see you here.” The driver looked at Jake in the rearview mirror, his expression hidden by dark glasses.
Jake leaned forward and pressed the muzzle of the gun against the back of the driver’s neck. “Drive us to the overlook just outside of town. Pull in there.”
Anne stared at him, eyes wide. “Jake! This is Doug. He used to drive me to school when I was a little girl. He would never hurt me. Put that gun away.”
“Your father wants you dead, and he works for your father.”
“I’m a driver, not a killer.” Doug put the car into gear and turned onto the street that led away from the ski resort. “I’m glad to see Miss Elizabeth looking so well, but I can’t say the same about you.”
“Jake isn’t with the feds anymore,” Anne said. “He’s just trying to protect me.”
“No offense, Miss Elizabeth, but I always thought you could do a lot better than the likes of him. I thought so the first day you brought him home.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Jake shoved the gun harder against the chauffeur’s neck. He recognized the man now, a weathered, reedy sixtysomething, who chewed spearmint gum nonstop and did Sudoku puzzles while he waited for Sam to summon him.
“Jake, please.” Anne put a hand on Jake’s arm, but he shrugged her off. She wanted him to be gentle with the old chauffeur, but these people didn’t deserve gentleness. They only understood violence.
Doug removed his sunglasses and his eyes met Jake’s in the rearview mirror. Clearly, he thought Jake was the equivalent of something he’d wipe off the bottom of his shoe, but he had apparently decided to humor him, for Elizabeth’s sake. He put the car in gear and drove toward the overlook. No one said anything, though Jake could feel Anne beside him, disapproval radiating from her like strong perfume.
The paved pullout overlooking the town was empty. Doug nosed the car up to the rock wall that separated visitors from the canyon below and shut off the engine. “We’re here,” he announced.
“Anne, get out of the car and leave us,” Jake said.
“No.” She glared at him. “I won’t let you hurt him.” She turned to Doug. “I want to see my father,” she said. “Please tell us where he’s staying.”
“You know I can’t do that, Miss Elizabeth. I’d do almost anything for you, but I can’t do that.”
“Tell us where Giardino is staying, or I’ll blow your head off.” Jake cocked the gun. Anne gasped, but he ignored her. Anger made his pulse pound and formed a painful knot in his chest. After so many months of suffering and planning, he was finally close to the people who had caused him so much pain—people who had hurt Anne and destroyed her life. He was a professional; he would control himself. But that didn’t mean he didn’t long for a little revenge.
Sweat dotted the driver’s forehead, but he remained calm, eyes fixed on Anne. “I can’t tell you where Mr. Giardino is staying,” he said. “But I can give him a message from you, if you’d like.”
“No!” Jake barked, before Anne could answer. The tears that shimmered in her eyes made him feel about two inches tall. He gentled his voice. “If he knows you’re here, he’ll send someone to kill you.”
“He must know I’m in the area,” she said. “He sent those other men after us.”
“If you care anything about her at all, you won’t betray her to her father,” Jake told the driver.
Doug nodded, the barrel of the weapon scraping the soft flesh of his neck, making a red mark.
“Tell Sammy I’m here and I want to see him,” Anne said.
Jake sent her a questioning look, but she avoided his gaze.
“Where will he find you?” Doug asked.
“Tell him she’ll meet him at the bar at the base of the gondola in town tonight at seven,” Jake said. The bar was public enough Sammy probably wouldn’t try anything, yet they’d be able to have a private conversation.
Doug nodded. Anne looked sick, but she nodded, too.
The sound of an old-fashioned telephone ringing made Jake flinch, though he kept the gun steady. “That’s my cell,” Doug said.
The ringing sounded again, out of place in the morning stillness. “Answer it,” Jake said.
Doug picked up the phone. “Hello... Yes, Mr. Giardino. I’ll be right there.”
He clicked off the phone and looked at Anne. “That was your father. He forgot his neck gaiter and wants me to bring it to him. Do you want to come with me and see him now?”
She hesitated. Jake wanted to tell her no, but he held his tongue. She knew what was at stake here.
She shook her head. “No. I won’t see him now. Just...just give Sammy my message.” She sagged back in the seat. “Please drop us off before you get to the gondola.”
Ignoring Jake, despite the gun that was still pressed to the back of his neck, Doug started the car again, and pulled onto the highway.