Dangerous Proposition (20 page)

The invite to this “get-together” had been passed to him through a third party. Though the person was technically on his payroll, the individual responsible for hosting the affair definitely intended for him to have it. Dylan Rossler, the third ex-employee of Project Gemstone who was apparently involved in this coup, was going to make an attempt on his life tonight. And when he put a gun to his head and held the son of a bitch by the throat, he was finally going to learn where those bastards were keeping Tucker.

As he splashed on aftershave a few moments later, a sudden realization struck Colin like a bolt of lightning. Julia knew he had the address for the party. Meaning it wasn’t desire or even curiosity that had brought her into his shower. It was her never-ending desire to stick her nose where it didn’t belong.

Reading over the address, he converted it to memory then tore the paper in half and tossed it into the trash.

He wandered into the hall and took a brief look around, making sure that Julia wasn’t lurking about. Mildly disappointed not to find her attempting to hurl a sharp object at his head, he got into the elevator and took it to the ground floor.

As he exited the lobby, relief flooded his insides. In just a few hours he would have Tucker back. And the man who’d taken him would learn that you didn’t cross Colin Westwood and get away with it.

Feeling for the first time in weeks that things were going his way, Colin hopped into his car and sped from the hotel parking lot.

* * * *

Stepping off the elevator and onto the second floor of the hotel, Julia looked around. There was nothing in the hall but the enormous fake plant that stood in front of the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she approached her and Colin’s hotel room door with hesitancy.

As her hand touched down on the knob, she took one final look around the empty, carpeted area. She sighed. She had hoped Colin would be standing there, ready to offer some sort of apology, only, he wasn’t. And though she’d circled the lobby about fifteen times, she didn’t feel any better about what had happened between them than she had before she left.

As Colin pulled her into the shower, she’d thought he was only trying to stop her from taking the address. But as the heat emanated from his eyes, she’d realized he wanted more. And the second she’d given in to him, he’d pulled away. The man who had strong-armed her into becoming his mistress had rejected
her.
Was there anything more pathetic?

Shaking her head, Julia thrust her hotel key against the swiper. Holding her head high, she entered the room.
Not a sound
. As she turned toward the bathroom, she saw that several wet towels were hanging on the rack. She made her way toward the bed, noticing as she came past the closet that Colin’s suit was missing. So was Colin. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out where he’d gone.

Emitting an exasperated sigh, Julia covered her face with her hands and plopped onto the bed. Dragging herself up a moment later, she came back against the headboard and cradled one of the large white pillows against her chest.

Colin must have been out of his mind to go to that party alone. Did he have any idea how much danger he was walking into? The risks involved with making a go of it by himself? Trained FBI official or otherwise, he had just gone into a battle. And the last time he’d been in that position, he had almost been killed.

Clutching her stomach, Julia took a few deep breaths. Then she took a few more. Feeling very much like she was going to be sick, she clasped her aching middle and leaned back against the headboard. She put her head between her legs, hiccupping loudly as two massive tears trickled down her cheeks.

Colin was in danger. It wasn’t the kind of trouble you were in when you realized you hadn’t completed your lesson plans for the next day—it was very real danger. It ate her alive to admit it, but she was terrified for him. Whether she wanted to or not, she cared about what happened to Colin. She felt something deep and inexplicable for the man she’d sworn she despised. And as if this wasn’t enough of a realization to be having, there was still that little matter of what had happened between the two of them in the shower. Or rather, what
hadn’t
happened between the two of them in the shower.

Julia dropped her head, curling into a fetal position. For a long time now, she had been indulging in a fairy tale. She’d allowed herself to believe that Colin wanted her, not just for her body, but that he really wanted her. That
that
was why he’d asked her to be his mistress. Not to fulfill his needs or to cover his tracks—because he
wanted
her. And though she’d never had any real intention of taking him up on such a dangerous proposition, she had been clinging to the idea that maybe, just maybe, he’d made her the offer he had because he felt something for her, too. More than an attraction, more than a desire, but a longing that had been building since that afternoon in his father’s hotel.

But it was crazy to think such a thing. Colin probably didn’t even remember that day, let alone the maid who’d made a complete fool of herself. That was definitely for the best. Aside from the fact that the guy drove her out of her mind, she had much more important things to be thinking about right now, things that were becoming more intense by the minute.

Julia cleared her throat. Wiping her eyes, she fought to regain her focus, deciding after a moment that the best thing she could do was to get her hands on that address. She’d seen the paper briefly, but she hadn’t the slightest idea of what it said. Though she’d lived in New York City for almost three years, all of the street addresses still sounded the same.

She hadn’t been gone from the hotel room long, meaning Colin hadn’t gotten much of a head start. Maybe there was still time to follow him and save him from whatever danger he was about to walk into. That was, if she hurried maybe there was time.

Turning toward the dresser, she struggled to remember which drawer Colin had put his clothes in. As she opened the one closest to the ground, she found nothing, same with the middle, short of a few pairs of socks. Coming to the top, she discovered a blend of brilliantine and cashmere and realized she’d hit the jackpot. She dug through the contents, trying to find the pants Colin had been wearing earlier.

About to give up, she turned, catching sight of something striking beside the wastebasket. A scrap of paper. Little and white, with only a few words written on it. Racing toward it, she turned the paper over. It was the address, only, it had been ripped in half. The street name was missing.

Bending down, Julia searched frantically through the garbage, pushing tissues, candy wrappers, and plastic cups out of her way. Having no luck, she turned the can over, letting its contents spill across the floor.

She studied the pile of trash. Pushing aside what she didn’t want, she did her best to decipher her way through the mess. She smiled in victory as her eyes rested upon a small piece of paper. She held the two scraps together, one above the other.
24 East Seventh Street
. She didn’t have the greatest idea of where that was, but she would find it. No way was she about to let a little thing like poor navigation skills stop her now.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she hesitated. She was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, which was more or less the same thing she had worn to the last party. As much as it pained her to admit, Colin had been right about her standing out. And though Griffin Strycker had made no secret of the fact that he found her attractive in spite of it, it wasn’t the reason he was targeting her. He knew she was Tucker Dyson’s daughter. Whatever the guy’s reasons, he wanted her out of the way as much as he did her dad.

Julia walked to the closet. She grabbed her knapsack and took from it the navy-blue cocktail dress. Safe and sound. It had an astonishingly low amount of wrinkles, considering the lengths she’d gone to, to keep it hidden from Colin.

She changed into the dress then slipped into the high heels she’d purchased. She gave herself a once-over.

Just as low cut and expensive looking as she remembered. The outfit would definitely require anyone she’d ever met to do a double-take, but something was missing. And she was going to have to take care of it before she set one high-heeled foot into that party.

Julia took a painful walk down to the hotel gift shop. Doing all she could to relax her feet as she moved, she quickly selected what she wanted to buy. Approaching the teenage boy behind the counter, she said, “I’ll take all of this, the lip gloss, the mascara, and the hair clip. Oh, and that little blue handbag you have behind the counter. How much is that, please?”

“Twenty-five dollars,” the tall, freckled boy said, putting the bag beside her other purchases. “That’ll be forty-two fifty for everything.”

“Charge it to my room,” Julia said, thinking of Colin’s face, the look in his eyes when he’d said the words “
I shouldn’t have done that.”
Cheeks becoming hot, she said, “Room two sixty-three. Colin Westwood.”

With a smile on her face, she took the elevator upstairs and added the finishing touches to her look. She poked her eyes only twice with the mascara wand before getting it right. Then, when she was satisfied, she placed her cell phone into her new handbag and headed down to the subway.

By the time she arrived on 7
^th
Avenue, her feet were killing her. She had half a mind to walk to the drugstore on the corner and purchase a pair of flip-flops. But thinking of her dad out there alone and fighting against his abductors, she forced the thought from her mind.

Julia approached address twenty-four, a large penthouse that several other people were also walking into. As the others got into the elevator, so did she. The group got off on the fifth floor and walked to the room at the end of the hall. Everyone else was allowed to proceed, but she was stopped by a broad-shouldered bouncer who had more tattoos on his arms that he had skin.

“Sorry, sweet cheeks,” the scruffy man said. “This is a private party.”

“No duh. I’m here for Dylan Rossler.” She winked. “His ten o’clock.”

“And you would be?”

Julia smiled. “Why, whoever he wants me to be, of course.”

Music blasted across a small, crowded space. The sounds of laughter and drinking rivaled it. They masked the activities that were being conducted in the outermost corners of the room, all of which were unmentionable.

Standing off to the far side of the action, Colin finished the remainder of his drink. He placed his empty glass on the bar and looked around, scanning the enormous room for a place to begin his search.

Making his way through the center of the mob, he noted that there were even more people than last time. He’d circled the noisy area several times, and he’d found no trace of Dylan Rossler, John Rizzo, or Griffin Strycker. He was very close to calling it a night.

On second thought… He turned back, signaling for the bartender to refill his glass. Both Ian Hauser and Mateo Esposito had confirmed that Rossler would be there, meaning, perhaps he just wasn’t looking hard enough. Or maybe the bastard was hiding. He needed to think the way those scumbags would, and give the opportunity he had a fair chance.

Moreover, he thought, downing the scotch he was handed in one swallow, the thought of going back to that hotel room and not finishing what he and Julia had started wasn’t something he was entirely sure he could handle. In fact, he was quite sure he
couldn’t
handle it. The image of her standing before him, her long red hair, cream-white skin, and taut pink nipples, was enough to drive him into an early grave.

Colin wiped the sweat from his forehead. When he did finally go back to that hotel room—and he seriously hoped it would be some time around 4:00 a.m.—he had every intention of sleeping on the floor.

He tossed a ten dollar bill onto the bar. Looking around the room, his eyes drifted toward the entrance.

He had instructed Ian to find out everything he could about this party. Then the elusive Mr. Hauser was supposed to have come there and acted as his backup. It was almost midnight, and his faithful employee had yet to step through the door.

With little reluctance, Colin helped himself to a third drink. He knew this wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but he couldn’t help himself. Between the stress of having Tucker missing, the knowledge that someone was trying to kill him, and the fact that he’d let a half-dressed Julia walk out of his shower, his nerves were completely shot.

Numbed by the sweet taste of alcohol, he spotted a man walking toward him. He put down his glass, looking up at last at a familiar face.

“Nice of you to show up,” he said as Ian stepped beside him.

Ian, who was a mathematical genius and techno-wiz alike, had orange-red hair and typically large-framed glasses. Tonight, however, he’d lost the specs and instead bumped up his geek factor with a vest and a bow tie. He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, well. I kind of ran into a few difficulties.”

“Spare me the details,” Colin replied, gesturing for Ian to follow him to the far side of the room. Having strayed as far as they could from the shouting, he asked, “What did you find out?”

“Rizzo, Rossler, and Strycker are definitely working together,” Ian answered. “But none of them rented this penthouse.”

“How could that be?” Colin said, more to himself than to Ian.

He’d imagined there was one key individual masterminding this plot. But he had thought that person was Strycker. Maybe Esposito was right, and Strycker was reporting to a higher-up. If Strycker hadn’t rented the penthouse, who had?

Colin was just about to ask Ian what other details he’d stumbled upon when a loud eruption of noise on the other side of the room drew him from his thoughts. A crowd, which consisted solely of men, erupted into whistles and cheers.