Guarding Raine (Security Ops) (32 page)

Rather than being put off by his terse tone, she seemed to find it intriguing. Her hand on his arm tightened. “The picture evokes all kinds of emotions, darling. One has to wonder if that’s because of the subject, or because the artist painted what she was feeling herself. Either way,” she said, her long, taloned fingers kneading his arm sensuously, “as soon as I saw it, I knew I had to have it. I believe André is discussing the deal with Raine as we speak.”

Without regard for niceties, he pulled his arm from her grasp. “You’ll have to excuse me,” he muttered brusquely, striding away. The thought of this woman, or someone like her, buying that painting made him want to throw something through the nearest window.

His need to see Raine, to talk to her was greater than ever. Resuming his search, he left the room and turned down a hallway. Light spilled from one door at the end of it that stood partially open. The shade flapped softly at the window inside. He stopped in the act of entering when he realized the room was occupied.

“That is my last word,” Raine was saying firmly. “I told you yesterday that painting wasn’t for sale, and I won’t change my mind. I don’t care what she offered to pay for it.”

“I just wish you’d see reason,” André answered, his voice sharp. “You could always paint another, Raine, if you wanted one for yourself. This offer is very generous.”

“It’s also out of the question,” she answered unequivocally. “And that’s final, André. I won’t change my mind.”

After a long pause, he heard André say, “Perhaps it’s time I shared something with you, Raine. I really didn’t want to burden you with my worries, but . . . I’ve been having some financial problems recently. I’m counting on this show to help bail me out. I don’t mean to push . . .”

The hell you don’t
, Mac thought caustically. He fought the urge to barge into the room and take Klassen by the throat. But Raine wouldn’t welcome his taking the decision out of her hands. He had been a slow learner when it came to that lesson, but he’d learned it well.

“But every little bit is going to help. If you can possibly see your way to selling this painting, it would be a tremendous boost for me. I never dreamed that there would be a buyer for it, but since there is . . . I hate to sound as though I’m trespassing on our friendship, but it’s very important to me. Would you at least think about it?”

Not trusting his response if he listened to another word, Mac slipped away. He didn’t want to think of that painting in anyone else’s hands. It was too damn personal, revealing too much of both him and Raine. But he didn’t have the right to make any demands on her, now less than ever.

Fling as though his skin had grown two sizes too small, he went into the large room. The guests were dwindling, leaving in couples and small groups. Sarah waved gaily at him as she left with a dark-haired young man Mac didn’t recognize. He nodded laconically in return.

“Well, it’s been quite a night,” Harold Bonzer said expansively, stopping next to him. “I was glad you made it tonight. Couldn’t quite believe Raine when she said she didn’t think you’d be here.”

“To tell you the truth,” Mac replied remotely, “I’m not quite sure what I’m doing here, myself.”

“Give it time, son,” the older man advised, his eyes twinkling. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

# # # #

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Mac murmured, his edginess increasing as he surveyed the dozen or so people left. The tightness in his gut hadn’t lessened since he got here. If anything, it had grown worse. Greg Winters walked by, nodded at him and went out the door.

“You’ve got some thinking to do,” Bonzer answered. “Nothing is going to feel right until you reach a decision on whatever it is churning in your craw.”

Mac turned a jaundiced eye on him, but the man laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “My driver is already here. I’m going to collect Raine and take her out for a celebratory drink at Sheena’s. Do you know the place?”

Mac nodded. A small, intimate eatery, it was just around the corner.

“Good. Why don’t you meet us there? Maybe between now and then you’ll figure out just what it is that’s bugging you.” Chuckling, the man walked away.

Going out for an intimate drink with Raine, especially with Bonzer in tow, was the last thing Mac thought was going to cure this itchy feeling. But he knew he’d go. He’d seize the opportunity to be with Raine, even if they weren’t alone.

The last of the guests left, and still André and Raine hadn’t come out of the office. Fighting the urge to go and drag her away with him, he strode to the rest room. When he emerged and returned to the front door, the white limo was pulling away from the curb. André was locking the front door.

“I never thought you were such an art lover that you’d be the last one out of here,” the man snapped, barely civil.

“I have varied tastes.” Striding toward his van, he hoped like hell that Klassen wasn’t going to join them tonight. He felt like crawling out of his own skin, and a good fight sounded like a satisfying way to cure the feeling.

Entering Sheena’s, Mac squinted in the dimness. Seeing Bonzer in the corner, he approached the table.

“Where’s Raine?” asked Bonzer.

“Raine?” Mac repeated, uncomprehendingly. “You said she was coming with you.”

Harold shook his head. “I thought so, but at the last minute she decided to go look for you and see if you’d agree to come tonight.”

“Damn,” Mac swore, turning to stride rapidly away. He met André at the door. “Give me the gallery keys,” he demanded.

“Have you finally taken complete leave of your senses, O’Neill?” Klassen demanded.

Remembering what the gallery owner had told him when he’d questioned him about security, Mac grabbed André’s shirt. “Give me the damn keys. Raine must be locked in there, and the damn lights are on a timer. They’ll be going off any minute.”

Klassen jerked out of Mac’s grasp. “There wasn’t anybody left in the gallery when I closed up. And if she was there, she’s fully capable of calling us here.”

Mac didn’t waste any more time arguing. Thoughts of Raine alone, even for the slightest amount of time, in near darkness in unfamiliar surroundings made his muscles contract. He already knew too well how the news of Burnett had affected her. He’d seen the night-light and recognized the ghosts that refused to be banished. He didn’t want her to be traumatized any more. Lowering his face to Klassen’s, he gritted out, “Last chance, Klassen. Give me the keys, now, or I’ll take them off your unconscious body.”

Recognizing the threat in Mac’s face, André reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. Mac snatched them away and ran out the door. Deciding it was quicker on foot, Mac avoided the parking lot and loped around the corner. The gallery was in sight. Even as he caught sight of it, the lights in the building dimmed automatically. Cursing fluently, he put on more speed.

Raine held the heel of one red pump in her hand and childishly kicked the rest of the shoe across the rest room. Closing her eyes and sighing, she leaned heavily against the wall. This could only happen to her, she thought fatalistically. Every other woman in the world managed to dress up occasionally without courting minor disasters. But when it was her turn, fate always took a satirical turn. She’d spent the last ten minutes in here trying without result to force the heel onto the shoe. It was time to admit defeat.

She might have avoided this if she’d just gotten in Harold’s limo, as planned. But she hadn’t been able to resist the urge to search out Macauley. Her intent had been to see that he joined them, but she hadn’t found him in the large room of the gallery. Stopping in the rest room to freshen her makeup, she’d turned her ankle and neatly snapped her shoe into two useless pieces.

She slipped out of the other shoe, rescued the first from where she’d kicked it and left the room. She padded almost silently down the corridor, and when she got to the gallery’s large room, she stopped, nonplussed.

It was completely empty. She hurriedly checked the other rooms, the office, rest rooms and storeroom. All empty. Feeling more and more like a second-class Cinderella forgotten at the bail, she heaved a heavy sigh and went to the door to let herself out. She could manage to get to Sheena’s herself. It wasn’t far, and the streets were extremely well lit. However, she was going to look darn funny limping along without shoes on.

The door didn’t move under her hand. Surprised, she used more strength, pulling with all her might. The set of front double doors remained immobile.

And then, just when she was cursing the fates, the lights went out.

The sudden blanket of darkness sent an all-too-familiar wave of panic through her. Her reaction was as inevitable as it was unavoidable. Her breathing grew erratic, her palms clammy. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. The doorway outside the gallery remained lit. She wasn’t in total darkness. She looked over her shoulder slowly. The rest of the gallery was as black as a tomb.

Raine peered into the dim light that came through the doors, trying to find the light switch. She didn’t see it. Moving to the wall nearest the door, she stepped a little deeper into the room, feeling her way on the wall. No luck.

Stopping, she wrapped her arms around herself and fumbled with her purse. All she had to do was call Mac. He’d see to it that she got out of here.

But her fingers were clumsy. Dialing a number was beyond her. The small light coming from her phone was her only beacon in the darkness. Her chest was tight, her heart pounding. Her breath was coming in quick, short spurts. She hadn’t felt this panicked in a long time. Despairingly, she wondered if just finding out who had been responsible for the threats was going to undo all the gains she’d made through the years.

Her spine stiffened. That wasn’t going to happen;
she wouldn’t let it
. Using the light from her cell to guide her way she forced herself to take another step, and then another. Her progress was slow and laborious. But she knew where the light switch was in the office. She just had to get there before her fear of the dark paralyzed her.

Raine looked over her shoulder toward the doors. The light seeping through them beckoned like an oasis on a desert. She turned resolutely away. The need to continue went beyond the need to find a way out of here. She had something to prove, at least to herself. She wouldn’t allow herself be a coward.

When she reached the hallway, she took a great breath. She was almost there, and yet it seemed as though the farther she came on her journey, the harder it became for her to continue. Inching toward the door, she moved with very little noise, save for her ragged breathing. When she reached the office door, she clasped the doorknob as though it was a lifeline and pushed the door open quickly, reaching for the light switch at the same time.

Her body went limp, and her eyes closed in relief as light flooded the room. She leaned heavily against the wall, her heart pounding as rapidly as if she’d finished a marathon. It was several moments before she opened her eyes again, and moments later before her adrenaline-loaded brain observed the other figure in the room, by the desk.

“Sarah!” she gasped.

Sarah was staring at her, dismay written on her face.

“Raine! What . . . what are you doing here?”

Her pulse was just beginning to resume its regular beat as she explained ruefully, “I was in the rest room and got locked in. I was just going to call Sheena’s to tell someone to come get me.” She frowned quizzically at her friend. “I thought everyone had left.”

Sarah gave a shaky laugh. “Were we born under the same star, or what? Would you believe that I came back tonight because I thought I’d left my purse? I was in the office looking for it and never realized that everyone else had gone.”

Confusion warred in Raine’s mind. “But you weren’t here before the lights went off. I looked around.” Noticing the vapor rising from a jar on the desk, she frowned and took a step closer. “What’s that?”

Sarah didn’t answer.

Raine took a step closer and stopped. “It looks like acid, Sarah. I know it wasn’t here when I came in earlier.”

In the face of her friend’s continuing silence, a feeling of dread began to seep through Raine’s system. “Sarah?” she whispered, her gaze rising to meet her friend’s.

But Sarah’s gaze was fixed on the wall beyond the desk. The shade on the window was pressed inward, and someone was crawling over the sill. He jumped lightly to the floor and turned around, saying, “Sarah, you idiot. Turn off that damn light before someone sees it.”

Joe Jennings’s voice stopped abruptly when he saw Raine. Then a grim smile crossed his face, and he addressed his sister again. “Looks like things are going to turn out my way, after all.”

“No, Joe,” Sarah said sharply.

“Shut up!” he ordered. Sarah’s mouth trembled, but she remained silent. “Get over there and turn off the light. Come here, Raine.”

Raine didn’t move.

“I said get over here!”

Sarah moved to obey her brother and turned off the switch.

Even forewarned, Raine couldn’t stem her panic from being cast abruptly in darkness again. As she stood immobile, even her mind seemed frozen. Then a hand yanked her by the shoulder and pulled her off balance. A hard arm crooked around her throat.