Grace (21 page)

He took a deep breath, then smiled as he glanced at his reflection in the mirrored curio cabinet. He was quite handsome, had always been. His looks seemed to be more appealing the older he got.

Many women both young and old found him extremely attractive. He knew this and he worked out at the gym every day to help maintain a young man's physique. He fixed the designer tie, then glanced around his office. Top-notch view of the city, more money than he could ever spend in his lifetime, successful business, friends, anything and everything he could ever desire was at the touch of his fingertips.

He was on top of the world and soon he would have his queen. She was perfect, and he looked forward to all the fun he had in store for his little slave.

The best part was, if things got sticky with the cops or he got tired of the blonde, the Master would take care of it for a mere additional one hundred thousand dollars. He laughed out loud, thinking that money ruled the world and along with the power he now wielded, he was invincible.

Marquette continued smiling as he thought about the blonde.

Two days. Just two days.

Grace took one last look in the mirror, grateful that the cover-up hid the bruises well. They were nearly gone now. As usual, she wanted to look classy but sexy. If the Master would be at this party, she wanted to be sure to capture his attention.

She opted for her low-cut, slim-fitting, silk sweater, her knee-length lined black silk skirt with the high slit on the side and black high-heeled shoes. She wore a red garnet pendant that fell just shy of her cleavage, drawing attention exactly where she wanted.

It wasn't too risqué, but it would get the job done if the jerk showed up and revealed himself.

Grace made her way downstairs where Max waited.

Max took a deep breath as he eyed her and the outfit she wore.

He was angry, nervous, scared. There were so many emotions going through him, all he wanted to do was beat the crap out of someone. He had to remain calm and it wasn't an easy task as he absorbed Grace's choice of outfit and beauty. She was stunning and an overwhelming sense of fear filled his body.

He wanted to grab her, carry her back up to her bedroom and make love to her all day and all night, forget the party, forget the Master and just absorb each other and their bodies.

"I'm just about ready, so if you want, I'll call you when I'm ready to leave the party then meet you back here.” Grace transferred a few items from her large pocketbook to the small black one she planned on taking with her.

Max stood a few feet away from her.

"There's been a change of plans. We decided to plant a few undercover officers at the party for your safety."

Grace immediately looked up with her purse in one hand and the other hand on her hip. Even though she looked angry, Max didn't care.

"What? What if he sees them? He's too smart for this."

"He won't see them and you don't know what he's capable of, trained detective or not."

"So here we are back to this again. You're questioning my abilities, my training? I can handle this, Max."

"I'm not too sure, Grace. You've been through a lot, and with this guy knowing your past, he could use it against you. Try to break you."

Grace turned away from him.

Her uncle had told Max everything and when he tried to talk to her about it, she said she wasn't ready. He didn't want to push her about the past. The present was enough to currently handle. She hadn't seemed angry he was there when she received the file. The shock at the time was probably too much for Grace. She needed him and not as a cop working the same case she was, but as a man ... her man, her lover as his embrace protected her and consoled her from the pain.

Now, he wanted to continue to protect her, but she refused to accept that protection. She was back in police mode, a homicide detective on the hunt for a ruthless villain.

Max placed his hands on her shoulders.

"You don't have to...."

Grace immediately turned toward Max as if knowing what he would say and what his demands were.

"No, Max, I do need to do this. We have no face to this Master. He's our only connection and now Jasmine has gone missing. If there's the slightest chance he's after me and that he may reveal his identity, then I need to do this."

Max pulled her into his arms. His gaze roamed over her breasts then her face.

"You couldn't wear a turtleneck?” he asked sarcastically and she laughed.

He immediately pulled her closer and covered her lips with his own. His hand roamed over the soft silk then to the thigh-high slit. Moving his hand under the soft material on her upper thigh, he continued to her hipbone then cupped a cheek of her backside. He knew the gun in his holster wedged up against her hip as his mouth and tongue devoured her own.

Grace placed her hands against Max's chest as if trying to put some space between them, but he wouldn't allow it. He wanted to taste her, seduce her into staying right here in her apartment with him.

His mouth moved off of her lips to her cheek and chin. Her perfume consumed his nostrils as his tongue rolled across her throat.

"Oh, God, Max ... please stop. I have to go."

"Don't go."

He continued to try seducing her.

"I have to.” She firmly placed her hands against his cheeks and forced him to look into her eyes.

"You know I have to go. We can continue this later."

Attempting to fix her skirt, Grace took a step away, only to have Max pull her back against him.

He caressed her face with his hand, then cupped her chin. “Please be careful ... no heroics."

She smiled and he kissed her softly one last time.

Grace mingled at the party for a while, watching for anyone who could possibly fit the profile of their killer, the Master.

She had asked Uncle Ted about the guests who attended the party at the Marquettes and unfortunately he admitted to having a few too many drinks that night so his memory was fogged.

She had the distinct pleasure of speaking with the Marquettes, who also claimed not being able to recall everyone who was there.

Despite her questioning and suspicions that whoever abducted Celina may have attended one of their own parties, Grace noted Mr. Marquette seemed unaffected and actually smiled.

A waiter she thought she recognized caught her off-guard. He winked and she recognized him as one of Uncle Nick's detectives.

Grace felt frustrated as she recognized many big shot attorneys, politicians, and wealthy entrepreneurs. There were so many possible suspects. The killer could be any number of them and some even had blue eyes like the Master. She knew eye color alone wasn't enough to go by, but she hoped he would reveal himself soon.

"So, Grace Martin, we finally get to have a meal together."

Turning around, Grace was surprised to see Larry Sullivan. Then she remembered that he was very popular among the rich and famous in the community.

Half the people in the room used him for representation at one time or another.

She tried to keep her cool. “It's nice to see you, Larry. Are you enjoying the party?” She sipped her wine spritzer.

"I am now.” He was so bold as to caress her arm with the back of his hand.

Suddenly, Grace felt a chill. Larry was nothing but a flirt.

Instead of paying her full attention on Larry, Grace scanned the room. That's when she noticed Tommy. He was one of the undercover detectives pretending to be a guest. She should have known Max would make Tommy be at the party, especially since he couldn't do the undercover work himself. Everyone knew he was the lead detective on the case.

Grace was sure Tommy would relay everything back to Max.

"Actually, I didn't know that Ted was your uncle until recently. I've assisted a few of his clients in the past."

Larry moved closer as another couple walked by them. Even though they had plenty of room to pass, Larry took advantage of the situation.

Solid as a rock, his body wedged up against her chest, and the palm of his hand covered her hipbone as if he had every right to touch her.

Feeling Tommy's gaze on them, she glanced at him and the surprised look on his face.

Immediately, Grace stepped to the side. “Have you seen that amazing ice sculpture?” She moved away from Larry and tilted her head toward the other side of the room.

Larry looked in that direction and commented on the swan etched out of ice.

Simultaneously, she inhaled a familiar scent. She quickly looked into Larry's eyes.

They were dark green like emeralds.

She took in the sight of him, his build, his shoulders, height, weight.

No. The cologne was a coincidence. The eyes were different. She wasn't sure if Larry could be considered a suspect other than the fact he eyed her like a piece of meat.

Suddenly, she heard, “Grace, I have been trying to get across this room to you for half an hour. How are you?” Johnny kissed her cheek.

Grace was relieved her friend was there to rescue her.

"I'm great, Johnny, how are you? Usually, I'm bumping into you outside of a courtroom.” Grace smiled, then waited a moment. Johnny had blue eyes, a similar build to the guy at the club but wasn't wearing any cologne.

Damn it, this is ludicrous. I can't just make accusations based on nonsense. Clear your mind, Gracy. Pay close attention.

"Yeah, or in the police department by the elevator.” He smiled as he placed himself between Larry and Grace.

Grace tried to hide her uneasiness and took a sip from her glass.

"I didn't think I would see you here, Larry. I heard you were busy with numerous businesses nowadays. That's got to take up all your free time."

Grace wondered what other businesses Larry was involved in.

"It does keep me busy, but I promised Ted and Delores I would attend the party and now that Grace is here..."

Larry didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he eyed Grace then winked.

Johnny placed his arm across Grace's shoulders. “Grace has that affect on many men. There's not many detectives who look like her,” Johnny added, holding Grace.

It was obvious to her Johnny tried to make Larry think she and Johnny were involved.

Grace suddenly felt uncomfortable again even though she shouldn't. She'd known Johnny for years since he was friends with the family.

Grace looked up into Johnny's eyes and a lump formed in her throat.

His eyes were definitely deep blue like the Master's.

Once again, she ignored her instincts and refused to believe Johnny could possibly be the Master.

"Is that true, Grace?” Larry asked, but she had missed the whole conversation, still deep in thought that either of these men was capable of such atrocities.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?” Grace asked, then Larry repeated the story.

Johnny was talking about undercover work and Grace's black belt.

"You have no idea, Larry, what Grace is capable of. Espionage, undercover operations, disguises..."

"She's a regular James Bond, or maybe we should call her Jane Bond,” Larry suggested and Johnny laughed.

Grace was speechless. She was reading into everything they said, every word, every comment. Her thoughts went back to the Master and how she told him her name was Jane Bond, then the cologne, his blue eyes, his large, solid body and height.

Either man before her could fit the description. Damn it! Then she excused herself to retreat to the ladies’ room.

She needed air, to take a breather, or to maybe just get the hell out of there.

Two hours later, there was no sign of the Master or anyone Grace could tell Max to do surveillance on or follow. There was no concrete evidence or even a crumb of anything to warrant an investigation into either Johnny or Larry.

What would she tell Max? That Larry gave her the creeps because he hit on her constantly, touched her as if he had a right to and possibly wore the same cologne the Master did at the club? Or that Johnny had the same deep blue eyes as the Master? That they called her Jane Bond?

Shit! This was damn frustrating.

"Gracy, when did you arrive?” Aunt Delores asked as she approached Grace from behind.

"I've been here for over an hour. What a party, Aunt Delores."

Delores gave her a kiss on the cheek, then glanced around as if looking for Grace's escort.

"Where's your date?"

"I didn't bring one,” Grace responded, then wished she hadn't. Now her aunt would be introducing her to every single, available guy present.

"Oh ... well. Are you seeing anyone?” Aunt Delores asked.

Hesitating, Grace said, “Not really. Just casually...” She hoped her aunt would back off, but she just kept staring.

"Aunt Delores, is something wrong? Are you feeling all right?” Grace followed the direction her aunt was focused on.

Grace turned and was only able to catch a glimpse of a tall man making his way deeper into the crowd.

"Did you see someone you know and you want to talk to?” Grace now focused on her aunt's expression of shock and her sheer white complexion.

Aunt Delores looked at Grace. “No. Not someone of importance. I'm sure I'll be seeing him again."

Her aunt patted Grace's hand, then walked away, continuing to greet guests.

Grace had that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach again, but she ignored it and decided to call it a night.

"Have you made your decision yet, Master? Luther is waiting for the final okay. He's outside the news building."

The Master stayed silent, not saying a word as he tried to organize his thoughts as well as his plan for Grace Martin.

He underestimated her and how ironic that Mr. Marquette had chosen Grace's sister as his personal sex slave. Even more ironic that Marquette's own daughter was a sex slave, as well.

The Master felt so confident, so untouchable. Thoughts of Celina Marquette entered his mind and he could see her luscious thighs, hear her screams for mercy as he trained her. He demanded perfection and perfect she would be or she would die.