Dead No More (7 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Saturday, September 20, 7:00 p.m.

C
OBALT
BLUE
GAVE
WAY
to the blackness of night as the sun finally relinquished control. Tiny stars pushed through the inkiness, twinkling in the autumn twilight sky. Lily glanced around, taking in every inch of her surroundings. She had to admit—she was impressed.

The statuesque, all-stone building rose from the ground, elegant and majestic. A long, thin, rectangular reflection pool stretched off and to the right of the main entrance. Two tall stone pillars, straight from the ancient Aztec civilization, jetted up through the still-as-glass-water, their ageless and stoic beauty highlighted in the soft glow of a single spotlight.

On another occasion, Lily would have loved to explore the gems hidden within the stone fortress jetting up from the ground.

This was her first mission since...Lily paused mid-step as another wave of self-doubt pummeled her.
Stop!
She took a deep breath to silence the demons torturing her mind, to lock them away. Jackson hadn’t stopped her then; she wasn’t about to let the ghost of him stop her now.

Derek pressed his hand against the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go get our guy.” Lily straightened her shoulders, gathered the material swirling around her ankles into her right hand and climbed the grand staircase of Joslyn Art Museum with the grace and ease of an A-lister, immediately spotting the five armed guards stationed between each of the four imposing columns holding up the museum’s heavy stone ceiling.

She tipped her head toward the five men. “Impressive show of force, isn’t it?”

“Our host wouldn’t have it any other way,” Derek muttered.

“Duly noted.”

The man stationed between the second and third column held up his hand, halting them. “Invitation.”

Derek handed him their satin envelope, compliments of John Elsworth. The guard took the invitation, scanned it briefly and passed it back. His eyes roamed Lily’s body and landed on the deep V playing hide-and-seek with her navel. She cocked her head, and a coy smile played on her lips.

He swallowed hard, then stepped to the side. “Have a good evening.”

“Thank you.” She gathered the flowing material in her hand and walked into the grandiose building.

Derek lowered his lips to her ear. “Nicely played.”

They walked through the east foyer and, following the soft piano melody, continued past another stone archway before the ceiling opened up into a majestic room, showcasing Joslyn’s infamous two-story Storz Fountain Court.

“Wow,” Lily breathed into the striking room.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Derek leaned close and whispered into her ear, his soft breath tickling her skin.

Beautiful was an understatement.

Every inch of the room was overlaid in perfectly sculpted tiles, reminding Lily of a Roman bathhouse she’d once visited while in Rome, down to the minute details of the mosaic columns on the second-floor balcony level overlooking the foyer below. A gold-plated stainless-steel sculpture, resembling a sunburst, rose elegantly from the middle of a mosaic fountain situated front and center in the room.

The massive two-story room, already stunning in its own right, had been turned into a dazzling ballroom, and couples swirled by in time with the piano’s hypnotic tune.

“Shall we dance?”

Lily turned her attention back to her handsome companion and nodded. He gently put his hand on the small of her back and led her deeper into the room toward the dance floor. The crowd parted, conversation ceased, curious faces turned toward them.
What are they staring at?
She glanced around and stopped short.

Shit
. No wonder the guard had given her a once-over. She was going to kill Derek. He had to have known the conservative tilt of this crowd. Among the high-society matrons in their demure, elegant ball gowns, Lily’s daring dress, with its plunging front and thigh-high slit, positively screamed for attention.

She swallowed a sigh. There was no way she’d go unnoticed by her mark tonight.

Derek swirled her onto the dance floor and either oblivious to the blatant stares of their fellow dancers or enjoying the attention—Lily couldn’t tell—closed the distance between them. He laid one hand lightly on the lowest part of her hip and entwined their fingers, bringing her hand up to his chest. Lily tensed at the intimate gesture, then all thoughts of Rowland disappeared as her muscles relaxed and she molded into Derek’s embrace. He tucked her closer and bent his head, his soft breath against her ear as they swirled to the music.

They followed the soft melody around the marble floor. As the tune changed, Derek looked down and smiled. “Game on, babycakes.”

She scanned the crowd again. Yes. Game on.
Where are you, Rowland?
Almost as if he’d heard her mental musing, the most elusive and intriguing man in the room turned and caught her in his piercing gaze.

Rowland James.

The man commanding her attention was more distinguished than she’d imagined from the photograph Derek had given her to study. Rowland’s tux framed his tall, strong physique with detailed perfection. His raven-colored hair gave way to salt-and-pepper layers, and his cheekbones hinted at an exotic heritage.

But it was his eyes that gripped her. They were a dark emerald, and hard, almost as if they could drill holes into her soul, and they’d locked on to Lily, holding her gaze in their hypnotic grasp. Her heart skipped a beat and she glanced away, shaken at his intense magnetism.

“Well.” Derek tightened his grip on her hip, the rhythmic thumping of his heart kicking up. “He noticed you.”

Lily’s breath caught.
Was Derek jealous?

She tugged her gaze from Derek and turned it toward Rowland. Sure enough, he followed their movement around the dance floor, never taking his eyes off Lily. As they twirled past Rowland again, his eyes narrowed and the muscle in his jaw tightened. Lily looked between Rowland and Derek. Well, there was definitely no love lost between
these
two men.
Why?

She could circle back to that later. Now, maybe, just maybe, she could use Rowland’s distain for Derek to pull Rowland in? She peered into the mirror Derek swirled her past and caught Rowland’s stormy reflection.

Yep, that might just work.

Lily glanced up at Derek, wishing she could stay tucked close to his side, knowing she couldn’t. She breathed in deeply, tried to sear this feeling of being tucked close to him permanently into her memory. A soft smile pulled at his mouth, and she almost lost her nerve. Almost.

“Sorry about this.”

Derek cocked his head to the side as she drew back and slapped him. Hard.

“How dare you!”

His eyes widened and he dropped his hand from her waist, stepping back from her as if she were a snake ready to strike. Cool air rushed to fill the space his body had just warmed. She had a job to do—and falling for the man staring back at her with a horrified and bewildered expression was not it.

Lily gathered the flowing material of her dress from around her ankles and rushed from the dance floor. Grabbing a flute of champagne as it floated by on a server’s silver tray, she brought it to her lips and scanned the area.
Where are you, Rowland?
She spotted him animatedly speaking to a brute of a man and pointing toward Derek. She grimaced.
I owe him. Big time.

Bringing the flute to her lips, she tipped her head back and downed the rest of the sparkling liquid. Would Rowland make the first move? And if not, could she?

* * *

D
EREK
RUBBED
HIS
JAW
. Lily had all but slugged him. Would that woman ever cease to surprise him?

Probably not.

Rowland stormed up to him, fire dancing in his eyes. Two tall men with earpieces and heavy holsters—mercenaries, no doubt—flanked him.

“Why am I not surprised that you’d be the center of attention tonight, Derek?”

Derek shoved his hands in his front pockets. “It was nothing more than a friendly little dispute with some woman I barely know and, quite frankly, none of your business.”

Rowland leaned close. “My party. My business.”

Derek inwardly cursed and hoped John wouldn’t fire him, because in order for this whole scheme to work, Derek needed to be thrown out of this party, not merely put in his place.

He squared his shoulders and looked Rowland in the eyes. “Isn’t this ARME’s party? Which would make it Mr. Els—”

“Enough.” Rowland’s face flushed. He tugged at his tux, smoothing the ruffled edges, and he lowered his voice to a quiet but deadly tone. “John may put up with you, but I will not, not tonight.”

Rowland snapped his fingers at the man to his left and the tall brute grabbed Derek by the bicep, jerking him toward the door. Derek dug in his heels and looked over his shoulder, trying to locate Lily. He finally spotted her in a corner of the room, sipping champagne, looking put out and very alone, and he bit his lip to keep from grinning—she was playing right into Rowland’s ego.

Atta girl, babycakes. Go get him.

* * *

R
OWLAND
MADE
HIS
WAY
toward Lily, never breaking eye contact with her.
You’re not the only hunter here, Rowland dear.
She smiled tremulously—though hopefully without losing her dignity—and prayed it would be enough to draw the predator locked on to her into her own lair.

Rowland crossed the distance between them.

“My apologies for the despicable behavior of my guest.” A strange mixture of fire and ice floated over his soft English accent.

Lily feathered her fingers against the base of her neck and bent her head slightly. “No apology necessary.” She spoke with a soft Southern twang, assuming the persona she had devised for Rowland’s benefit.

He cocked his head to the side, his gaze traveling down her body. She caught the pulse quickening in his neck, but nothing else. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t get past the veiled expression blanketing his handsome face. Then he frowned slightly, and her shoulders knotted.

Maybe this wasn’t her ticket back into the game, after all.

“Do I know you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Lily responded innocently. “I’m new to town.”

Stepping closer, he swept her hand up in his and bowed slightly. “While it’s unusual for me not to know everyone on my guest list...”

She checked for the closest exit.

“I’m pleasantly surprised at my oversight. Let me introduce myself.”

Lily blinked. The tension released, and her heart settled back into a normal rhythm. Swallowing a triumphant expression, she focused her attention on the tall man in front of her, who was eyeing her as if she was a piece of candy he
had
to have.

Yep...she still had it.

“My name is Rowland James. I’m the COO and vice president of ARME Industries. And this—” he gestured with his free hand “—is my party. Welcome.”

Lily smiled.
Well done, Derek.
He’d nailed his research on Rowland. Maybe she wouldn’t kill him after all.

“Well, that’s quite the introduction, Mr. James.”

“Please,” he said charmingly. “Call me Rowland.”

“Rowland it is, then.”

“And you, besides being one of the most beautiful women in the room, are...?”

Lily swallowed a laugh. Though the soft fabric hugged her curves in all the right places and played up her athletic build, she was hardly the most beautiful woman in the room. At five-nine, and with her three-inch heels, she towered over most of the other women that milled about, yet she still needed to tilt her head up to meet Rowland’s gaze.

She’d been told more than once they gave her an intoxicating, exotic look, taken from her mixed Spanish and Cherokee Indian heritage, perhaps. So, although not a supermodel in any sense, Lily knew how to flaunt what she had.

“How incredibly rude of me.” She feigned embarrassment. “My name is Addison. Addison Moore.”

“Ah, a Southern belle.”

“Born and raised in Alabama,” she said, the drawl in her voice curling.

“And what brings you to these parts, so far from the warmth of the South? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The man who held her hand in a commanding yet gentle grip unnerved Lily slightly. She blinked and focused. “The warmth doesn’t suit everyone. Some enjoy a crisp fall.”

She didn’t move, barely dared to breathe as his eyes searched her face. Time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl. What was he thinking? He reminded Lily of a falcon. Calculated, cunning and deliberate. Did he see her as prey? Or an equal? She waited, heart racing.
Take the bait. Come on, Rowland.
Don’t let that mortifying scene on the dance floor be for nothing. Take. The. Bait.

Finally he smiled, and the muscles in her back relaxed.

“Well, whatever brings you to our great city, I hope you’ll accept my invitation of hospitality, Ms. Moore.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and Lily swallowed down her surprise at the gallant gesture. “Let me introduce you to the people of Omaha.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Saturday, September 20, 7:45 p.m.

A
SET
OF
green eyes kept a watchful eye on the statuesque brunette that had caught Rowland’s eye. Close enough to see the kiss of color on her cheeks as Rowland swirled her past, far enough to maneuver around her unseen. Elegant and regal in her daring gown, the woman had stolen the attention of the entire room when she’d entered earlier escorted by ARME’s head of security.

Angelica Dupree made her way toward Rowland and Lily.

Well...this should be interesting.

All of Omaha knew that Angelica had her sights set on Rowland—and his endless bank account. The eyes of the crowd, bright with curiosity, followed Angelica’s movements as she waltzed up to the stately pair and interrupted their intimate conversation.

Angelica said something, and Rowland’s eyebrows arched. His companion smiled softly, but didn’t move from her position by Rowland’s side, staring Angelica down until the woman’s face flamed and she made a hasty exit stage left.

Rowland gazed down at the woman beside him with clear admiration and swept her hand up in his, bringing it to his lips before he moved again to the sweet melody swirling in the air.

* * *

T
HREE
HOURS
LATER
,
Lily desperately needed to get home and take off her damn heels. She didn’t know which ached more: her feet or her head. Rowland had introduced her to seemingly the whole town—or, at least, presumably those in his pocket—and her mind was swimming with faces and names, and the champagne that had continuously filled her glass.

He didn’t seem to worry that the woman on his arm was a complete stranger to their world. Nor did his other guests.

It was obvious in the time she’d shadowed him that he was revered by many—and feared by more.

In between the introductions, the endless new faces and incalculable stories, she’d gathered enough information for a dozen or so case files. She scrambled to make sense of all the players, and what team they were each playing for.

And why John Elsworth would be in any sort of danger.

She’d made the ten undercover bodyguards hovering nearby in the first minute of being on Rowland’s arm. They stayed within lunging distance in case Rowland so much as yelped.

Which she doubted ever happened. The man she clung to, though disarmingly charming and captivating, was cold as ice.

She’d rubbed shoulders with her fair share of dangerous, vicious and deadly people. But something about Rowland sent her head spinning, almost as if somewhere in the depths of her subconscious, a warning bell rang like a lighthouse bell clanging on a foggy night to proceed with caution.

On more than one occasion, she’d been swept away by his magnetism as his velvety voice purred in her ear and his strong arms encircled her waist, and she’d forgotten whom she clung to. Then just as quickly, his unspoken brutality would peek through his allure, chilling her to her very bones, and she knew, without a doubt, that given the right motivation, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

Lily needed space, some time to clear her head. To get away from the enchanting spell he cast over her.

“Would you excuse me for just a moment?”

Rowland looked down at her, raised an eyebrow and released her arm. “Of course.”

She managed to send him a coy smile as she made her way down the grand staircase and followed the long hallway to the restroom. Once there, she checked under the stall doors to ensure that she was alone, then pulled out her phone and dialed Derek. The call went straight to voice mail. She hit redial. The call went straight to voice mail again.
Strange.
“Where are you? Why aren’t you answering?”

She sighed and hung up.

Lily freshened her lipstick, then began to make her way back down the long corridor toward the ballroom. She stopped suddenly, a feeling of unease prickling up her spine. Someone was in the hallway with her. She could sense it. Her muscles coiled as she looked over her shoulder. The corridor behind her sat empty. Lily picked up her pace, ducked into the next alcove and waited. What wouldn’t she give to have her .32 right now.

A waiter walked by, his tray held high, obscuring his face.

Back pressed into the ornate stonewall, she watched him move, frowning slightly as something about him tickled the deepest recesses of her mind.
Waiter, my ass.
She moved to follow him and came face-to-face with Rowland. She stopped short in surprise but quickly recovered, smiling up at him as she snuck a glance over his shoulder. Her heart sank. The waiter—or whoever he truly was—was gone.

“There you are,” Rowland said, reaching for her. “I was concerned something happened to you.”

So you came looking for me?
“You know how these big old buildings can be. I got turned around.”

He rested his hand on her waist and looked down at her, heat and a mixture of something else, something dark, lingering in his eyes. “Can I get you anything?”

Once again, Lily found herself swept up by the genuine concern resonating in his velvety voice, and she hesitated, frozen by his allure.
Careful, Andrews.
Blinking, she broke their connection and quickly laughed to cover her slip. “Only if you can make a town car appear. I’m mortified to admit it, but this Southern belle is exhausted and I came with—”

“Of course. Let me call my car.”

Damn it.
The last thing Lily needed was this strange, dangerous man knowing where she lived—she had to keep Lily Andrews and Addison Moore separated.

Her home had already been compromised once with Derek blowing into her life. She had no intention of letting that happen again.

“That’s not necessary. I can arrange for another town car to pick me up.”

The bone-chilling coldness returned to his eyes. “I insist.”

Of course you do.

* * *

R
OWLAND
HAD
BACKED
Lily into a corner, but he hadn’t outmaneuvered her.

The car drove up to Hotel Deco, one of Omaha’s finest. Fortunately, Lily had briefly stayed there while she’d done some revamping of her “closet.” Otherwise she’d have no idea where to direct Rowland’s driver.

“I see you’ve experienced the finer joys of hotel living,” Rowland said drily as he peered out the window.

“It’s not bad at all. Until I’ve settled in and discovered the perfect area for me, this is home.” She gathered up her small purse. “And it’s been lovely so far.”

As she reached for the car door, Rowland put his hand on hers. “I have a prior engagement tomorrow, but let me take you to dinner Monday night.”

Lily swallowed her triumph—
gotcha, pretty boy
—before looking back over her shoulder with a small smile. “Dinner with you sounds delightful.”

“Excellent.” He released her hand and settled back into the plush leather seats of his town car, the hungry glint in his eyes returning. “Seven o’clock Monday, then?”

“Seven o’clock Monday. It’s a date.”

She stepped from the car and let the slit of her dress fall open over the top of her thigh. She could feel his gaze drift over her body, burning into her. Once outside of the car, she bent low to bid him farewell, giving him a generous view of the front of her dress once more.

“Rowland, thank you for your generous hospitality. It wasn’t expected, but it’s most appreciated.”

Her instincts screamed to proceed with caution as Lily willed herself to walk calmly to the hotel entrance. The doorman held open the large, glass doors. Lily walked into the lobby and headed straight toward the restrooms. She pulled out her phone and did a search for cab companies. She scanned the list that popped up and spied a company on the other side of the city. Might as well give plenty of time and space between her cab and Rowland’s departure. She punched in the number.

“Cornhusker Cab.”

“Yes, I’d like a cab to pick me up at Hotel Deco, the servers’ entrance.”

“Um...” The man on the other end of the line hesitated. “Ma’am, that will be at least a half hour.”

“That’s perfect.”

* * *

L
ILY
ENTERED
HER
LOFT
, slammed the door and threw her purse onto the counter. She kicked off one shoe, then the other, and rubbed her right foot. She’d forgotten how much she hated heels.

Her phone rang. Grabbing her purse, she dumped its contents out onto the counter and snatched up the phone on its third ring.

“Hello.”

“Home so soon?” Derek’s deep voice cut through the quiet.

She flipped off the lights, her heart skipping a beat, and went to the wall of windows, pushed back the sheer curtains and peered into the black night. “Do you have me under surveillance?”

“How’d it go?”

“It seemed strange, the Elsworths not being there. I think I met every member of Omaha’s high society tonight.” Lily frowned, let the curtains fall from her fingers. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see you the rest of the evening, either. Did you leave?”

“I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Derek grumbled. “After your little show, I was escorted out by Rowland’s goons.”

Lily pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. She hadn’t meant to hit him
that
hard. “Sorry about that, Derek. I didn’t know...” She stopped and frowned. “Wait, what did he say?”

“I think the exact words he used were ‘John may put up with you, but I won’t. Not tonight.’”

Walking toward her bedroom, Lily tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear and reached behind her, fingers grasping for the zipper. She needed out of this dress, pronto. Her fingers landed on the zipper and she tugged. “Your reaction was priceless.”

“I’d say you hit like a girl,” he deadpanned back, “but that’s not true at all.”

“It worked, though.” The dress fell from her shoulders, the soft material pooling around her ankles, and Lily stepped away as she reached for the crystal hairpins folded into her hair and yanked. Soft curls fell around her shoulders. Raking her fingers through her hair, she massaged the places on her scalp that the hairpins had bitten into all night. “I’m in, but can we debrief tomorrow? I’m exhausted and still need to write out my reports.”

“Nope. We debrief tonight.”

“What?” She stopped short. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m not asking. I’ll be there in ten.”

She stared at the dead phone, annoyed. But after dancing in his arms across the marble floors of the museum earlier—even ever so briefly—Lily had to admit that she was looking forward to seeing him again.

She shook her head violently to clear those thoughts and went to hunt up something to wear.
Don’t go there, Andrews. He’s nothing but trouble.