Justice For Abby (28 page)

“Like what?”

“We’ll talk about it later.” He gestured toward the cabbie.

“Fine.” She sat further back against the seat, staring out the window.

Another hour passed in silence as Jerrod periodically glanced out the back window, searching for anything resembling a tail, though it would be almost impossible to tell in the chaotic city traffic.

They got out at the memorial, walked four blocks east, bought another phone, and took their last cab. “The Ritz.”

Abby’s eyes widened as she looked at him.

He shrugged. “Might as well do this right.” Adam wouldn’t be searching for him in a luxury hotel—if he were searching for him at all. And if Abby relaxed even a fraction and ate a real meal, tonight would be worth it.

Moments later the cab pulled up in front of the majestic building. They got out, walking quickly to the entrance in their hustle to escape the chill rolling off the Hudson Bay a couple hundred yards away. The doorman pushed open the glass door.

“Good evening, ma’am, sir.”

“Good evening.” They stepped inside, instantly cloaked by elegant warmth. Dark wood, marble floors, candles, and pretty white flowers arranged in crystal vases added to the ambiance of comfort and luxury.

“This is beautiful.” Abby beamed.

“Not bad,” he said as they walked to the black granite desk.

“Good evening, sir.” The suit-clad gentleman smiled politely as he looked them up and down in their jeans and casual jackets.

“Hi. We need a room.” He pulled out his Ethan Cooke Security credit card.

“Do you have reservations?”

“No.”

“Okay.” The attendant tapped at his keyboard. “It looks like we have a couple of expanded one-bedroom suites available tonight. Last-minute cancellations.”

“Does a suite sound good to you, honey?” Jerrod winked at Abby.

“Uh, yes.” She smiled at him.

“We’ll take it.”

“I need to see an ID, Sir.”

Jerrod handed over his license and bodyguard identification. “We’ll need to keep the registration out of the system.”

The man looked from him to Abby and back. “Let me call my supervisor.” He picked up the phone.

“Sure.” He should have had Ethan set this up, but that hadn’t been an option. The Ritz was used to dealing with high-profile discretion—another reason he’d brought Abby here. No one would know they checked in except for the man standing in front of them and the woman stepping out of the office down the hall. And in moments only the woman in her navy blue power suit would know where they were located in the building.

 “Good evening, Sir.” The pretty blond smiled at him, then looked from his license to his bodyguard identification. She tapped several buttons on the computer and smiled again. “It looks like you’re all set.” She slid a card over without revealing a room number, and also passed back his identification and credit card. He and Abigail were officially invisible patrons. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

He took Abby’s hand as they followed the manager through a door and down a long hall to a private elevator. She used a key to access the door. “If you need anything at all, please let us know. Room service will know you as Mr. Smith.”

“Thank you.” They stepped inside, and he pressed the button, taking them to the sixteenth floor. The doors slid open, and they walked to their room. He stepped in, turning on the light, scanning the posh space decorated in dark wood and different shades of blue. “Come on in.”

Abby grinned as she closed the door behind her. “This is
beautiful
. And look at our view.” She hurried over to the windows with her usual enthusiasm. “The Statue of Liberty.” She turned and rushed into his arms. “This is amazing, Jerrod. Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” He eased her back, stroking his fingers along her cheeks. “Tonight it’s just you and me. I want you to relax.” He kissed her forehead. “I want you to go in and take a bath. We’re going to order in some damn fine food and enjoy the hell out of this.” Or he would try to.

“It’s a date.”

He smiled, relieved to see Abby’s eyes bright and her shoulders relaxed. “I’m going to make some calls while you soak in that monster tub.”

“I’m willing to accept this mission, Captain.” She saluted and closed the door most of the way.

Seconds later, he heard water splash against marble as he pulled the new phone from the plastic, grabbed the card, punched in the information, and dialed Ethan.

“Cooke.”

“We’re secure for now at the Ritz.”

“What the hell’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Adam told me the Task Force was on Dimitri’s tail. Supposedly they were running surveillance on two suspected locations they thought he might be at. This afternoon Shane told me they haven’t heard anything on Dubov or Bobco since November. After talking to you it turns out Shane’s right and Adam’s not.”

“Sounds sketchy.”

“That’s why Abby and I left.” He sighed, rubbing at his jaw. I’m trying to figure out Adam’s angle. Why would he make shit up?”

“I hate to say it, man, but it sounds like he’s playing both sides.”

“It sure as hell does, doesn’t it?” He sat on the couch, closing his eyes, as Ethan confirmed what he already knew.

“What do you want to do?”

“Hang here until you can get me someone.”

“I can have Stone there tomorrow night.”

“I’ll take him.” The phone beeped in his ear, alerting him to his low balance and battery power. “I need you to add minutes to the phone. I’ll text you the serial number.”

“Do you think you’re safe until tomorrow?”

“I don’t see why we wouldn’t be. We changed cabs three times, and we’re here unlisted. I don’t plan on leaving this room until Stone knocks on the door.” He walked to the bathroom, peaking in at Abby lying in a sea of bubbles, her eyes closed, her cheeks pink, smiling, humming. “Abby needs this. Being at the apartment wasn’t working for her.” He battled his guilt. Somehow she had known something was off, and he’d ignored it. “I thought bringing her to Manhattan would be a good idea. I thought my friends help and the anonymity would be the best thing. I was wrong.”

“There’s no way you could’ve known. No one expects their bothers to be dirty bastards.”

“Yeah.” He pressed a hand to his stomach, struggling with the sharp twist of betrayal.

“I’ll get you those minutes. Stone’s flight is already booked for nine tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks.” He hung up, expelling a deep breath, part relief, part disbelief. Help was on the way, but some sixty blocks north Adam probably waited for him and Abby to walk back into his trap.

Abby released the stopper, ridding the tub of most of the
bubbles. She turned on the faucet, rinsing the remaining suds from her body, and stood. She wrapped the huge towel around herself as she looked out at the New Jersey lights across the Hudson Bay. Closing her eyes, she sighed, savoring the sense of peace she hadn’t felt since her last night on the farm.

For the first time in two days her head didn’t throb, and her stomach didn’t ache. Now that she was relaxed, she craved food. She’d done her best to gag down little bits of cereal or a sandwich at the apartment, but she needed something more substantial. With her nausea gone, she had every intention of stuffing herself full of fabulous five-star cuisine.

Jerrod had yet to share why he’d brought her to the Ritz in the first place, but as she glanced around at fresh-cut flowers and sniffed at the soothing tropical scent lingering from her bath, she didn’t care. Pretending everything was perfectly fine for a few hours wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Their problems would still be daunting when they woke tomorrow. Tonight she wanted a nice meal with the man she adored. Tonight she and Jerrod had a date.

She stepped closer to the door, peeking into the sitting area, smiling as Jerrod lay sprawled on the couch, shoes off, arm behind his head, asleep with the television murmuring in the background. The poor guy was exhausted. He needed a quiet evening as much as she did. The last couple of days had been draining for both of them. Adam and Shane’s hospitality was appreciated, but this was definitely better. It was almost as if they were finally home in their condo, but here someone else was in charge of the cooking and cleaning up.

Smiling, she turned away, glancing at her jeans and the oversized sweatshirt she’d folded and set on the chair, then at the matching “his” and “her” robes. This was totally an eat-in-your-robe kind of night. She pulled the soft terrycloth from the hanger, groaning as she enfolded herself in sheer pleasure, pulling the belt tight, rolling the huge sleeves to her wrists.

Satisfied and ready for tonight to begin, she opened the door wider, tiptoeing to the phone and room service menu by the table at Jerrod’s side. She flipped to the entrées, perusing her options as she settled herself on the arm of the couch.

Jerrod’s eyes flew open, and he sat up. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She studied his sleepy blue eyes and smiled. “I’m perfect. And hungry.” She held up the menu, wiggling it.

He scrubbed at his face and reached for her hand. “Let’s see what they have.”

She slid onto the cushion next to him, her arm brushing his as she opened the thin book in her lap. “I saw a spinach and gnocchi dish that sounds amazing.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Rabbit food.”

“The best stuff around.”

“I need a
steak
.”

“I think I’ll start with a shrimp cocktail.” Her eyes stopped on the desserts. “Oh, my. They have a triple chocolate pyramid.”

“You should probably get it.” He bumped her with his elbow.

She nibbled her lip, contemplating. “Will you share it with me?”

“Try and stop me.” He stood, picked up the phone, and dialed room service. “We’ll make the call before you change your mind.” He winked. “Yes. I’d like to place an order. I’ll take two shrimp cocktails, the spinach and gnocchi deal, the NY Strip—medium—and the triple chocolate pyramid.” He turned toward the window, rubbing at the back of his neck. “No, I think that’ll do it. Thanks.” He hung up, stretching his shoulders, letting loose a barely perceptible sigh as he turned back, meeting her stare, smiling again.

She narrowed her eyes a fraction, noting the strain behind his gestures as she glanced toward the coffee table, looking at his weapon. As much as she wanted to ignore reality and pretend tonight was theirs, she needed to know what was going on. Patting the cushion next to her, she gestured with her head. “Come on back.”

He sat down.

She snuggled up against his side and kissed his cheek. “How are you?

“Good.” He hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“You don’t seem fine.” She played with his fingers as she peeked up from under her lashes.

“I’m just a little tired.”

He held his body rigid, and his typically easy gaze was sharp and alert despite the quiet of their extravagant sixteenth-floor surroundings. There was more going on than sleep deprivation, but she nodded anyway. “The last couple of nights haven’t been very restful.”

“No.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

She eased back, smiling, looking into his eyes. “Is there anything you wanna talk about, big guy?”

He shrugged. “Can’t think of anything.”

She traced his ear with the pad of her finger. “You seem tense.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I just need to catch a solid stretch of Zs.” He settled himself more comfortably against the cushion.

She moved her fingers to his clenched jaw. Jerrod wasn’t ready to talk, so they would move on—for now. “How about a shoulder rub?”

“This right here works pretty well for me.” He lifted his head, sniffing at her neck. “You smell good.”

“Thanks. She moved out of his grip. “Take off your shirt.”

He raised his brow. “Dinner will be here in twenty minutes.”

She chuckled. “Just do it.”

He tugged his t-shirt free of his jeans and pulled it off.

A rush of sexy tingles swarmed her belly as she tracked her gaze over the bumps and ridges of his mouthwatering torso. No matter how many times she touched and tasted his gorgeous body, she wanted more. Crawling behind him, she sat on the back of the couch, ready to rub her hands all over his skin. “Prepare to enjoy,” she said, squeezing his tight, solid shoulders.

He groaned. “God, that feels
amazing
.”

“Good.” She concentrated on the knots along his shoulder blades, then slid her fingers up and down his neck.

He moaned, letting his head fall forward.

She smiled as the muscles in his back unclenched by degrees.

“You have magic hands, Abigail.” He looked back at her.

“Better?”

“Much.”

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

“Mission accomplished.”

She moved from her perch on the couch and crawled into his lap, hooking her legs around his waist. “I like this.” She settled her arms around his neck. “Just the two of us again.”

“Me too.” He kissed her.

She drew back. “Why is it just the two of us? Why are we here instead of with your friends?”

He held her gaze, sliding fingers through her hair, sighing. “I wanted us to have a night away. You don’t seem very relaxed at the apartment.”

“I’m not, but I was managing.”

He arched his brow. “Barely.”

She shrugged. There was no use denying what they both knew. “There’s something about being there that makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.”

“So tonight we’re taking a break.” He traced the lapel of her robe, pulling her in for another kiss. “I talked to Ethan while you were in the bath. Stone’s coming tomorrow.”

“Stone?”

“He’s a little rough around the edges, but he knows what he’s doing.”

She’d met Jerrod’s co-worker a handful of times. He was handsome and gritty—like a dark prince—yet he didn’t make her uneasy the way Adam did. “Stone doesn’t bother me.”

“Good.” He nipped at her jaw with playful bites.

She glanced out the window, staring at Lady Liberty lit up in the dark as he skimmed his fingers along her jaw and down her neck. “We have a great view.”

“It’s pretty,” he murmured, snagging her earlobe. “We’ll have to take advantage of the telescope when the sun comes up.”

She closed her eyes, shivering, her skin humming beneath his heated breath and wandering hands. “Definitely.”

He gripped her chin between his thumb and finger, bringing her mouth to his, kissing her slowly, his tongue seeking hers, coaxing hers to dance at his unhurried pace.

She slid her palms along his shoulders, letting loose a purr as he took her deeper, pulling her closer as each dive of his tongue grew more urgent. She captured his bottom lip, tugging, suckling as her hands continued their journey down his pecs and over his stomach, enjoying the way his muscles jumped and tensed. She moved lower to the edge of his jeans.

“Abby,” he whispered, going still.

“Hmm.” She unfastened the snap and dipped her fingers into his boxers, brushing the tip of him, liking the idea of taking charge.

“Abigail, dinner will be here in a few minutes.”

She held his heated stare, biting her lip, smiling. “I guess I should probably get started then.” She untangled herself from his lap and got to her knees, settling herself between his thighs as she rained kisses over his chest, sliding her tongue down the line of his six pack, nibbling at the skin just above the elastic of his underwear. Tugging on his clothes, she pulled jeans and boxers past his hips, stopping mid-thigh. She traced him with her finger, then rubbed gently with her palm as she looked into his eyes. “I like touching you. I love the way you taste.”

He clenched his jaw, swallowing.

She sent him another slow smile and went to work, taking him deep, reveling in the heady satisfaction of his fingers curling in her hair and his sharp intake of breath.

“Abby,” he grit out.

She glanced up as she continued, gripping him in a tight hand.

“God, Abigail,” he hissed, closing his eyes, letting his head fall back as his thighs flexed with her steady up and down movements.

She changed her pace, slow, then fast, her reward his sharp, unsteady exhales.

“Abby,” he moaned, his hips rocking. “Abby, I’m going to come.”

She kept her pace steady as his frantic fingers clutched at her hair, urging her to hurry.

“God. Mmm,” he gasped, jerking as he let himself go.

She slowed, staring at him as he looked at her. “Did that work for you, big guy?”

“I’ll let you know when my eyes uncross.”

She smiled.

“I should—” Someone knocked at the door, cutting him off. He stiffened, automatically grabbing his gun, instantly on alert.

The easy moment was lost as she moved to the side and he stood, pulling up his pants, zipping his jeans closed. “Go ahead and wait in the bedroom for a minute.” He peered through the security hole, waiting for her to do as he asked.

She got to her feet and walked to the bedroom, shutting herself in slightly, watching through the crack as Jerrod secured his weapon in the back waist of his pants and opened the door. He made polite conversation while the waiter set up their plates and lit a candle in the center of the small table. Smiling, Jerrod signed the bill, his eyes cool and guarded the entire time. Something new was definitely up. She planned to have the whole story after their meal.

Jerrod let the man out, locking up after him as she stepped from the bedroom, breathing in the delicious scent of grilled meat and savory herbs, trying to ignore the sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She still longed for one normal night.

“Dinner smells amazing,” she said, wanting desperately to hang on to her illusions.

“It looks great too.” He shoved his wallet away.

She took his hand, walking with him to the table. “Should we eat?”

He tossed her a bland look, and she laughed.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

They pushed in, picked up their forks, and she dug in, savoring plump shrimp and every sinful bite of spinach-stuffed gnocchi in a rich cream sauce, despite the silence in the room. She glanced Jerrod’s way several times, hoping to catch his eye as he cut bite after bite, but he was too distracted.

“Is it good?” he finally asked over a mouthful of steak and baked potato as she forked up the last dumpling.

“Definitely.”

“Good.”

She swallowed, wiping her mouth.

“Don’t forget your dessert.”

She pressed a hand to her bloated stomach. “I’m so
full
.”

“One bite?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He slid his fork through layers of smooth ganache, thick mousse, and the solid dark-chocolate bottom. “Open up.”

She took the piece, closed her eyes and let it melt on her tongue. “I think I could easily eat every bite.”

The dish touched her hand as Jerrod slid it her way.

“But then I’d be sick as a dog, so I’ll let you go after it, champ.”

“I’m always willing to help out.” He pulled the plate back and sampled. “Wow. This is amazing.”

“Everything was.”

Jerrod ate the last of the dessert and sat back in his chair. “I’m stuffed.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.”

He smiled. “It’s rare, but it happens.” Holding her gaze, he touched her hand. “This was nice.”

“Yeah.” Sort of. The food was delicious and their view amazing, but Jerrod was somewhere else, rolling through the motions of their ‘special night.’

“I’m going to hop in the shower. Why don’t you pick us out a movie?”

“I don’t want a movie.” She wanted to feel connected.

“I thought we could at least pretend.” He smiled again and stood. “I’ll shower up while your food settles. We don’t want any cramping in the bedroom.”

She grinned, hoping they were back on track. “Sounds serious.”

“Extremely.” He leaned over the table and kissed her. “Door stays locked. Don’t let anyone in. No one.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know the drill.”

“I’m just reminding you.”

“Check.” She made an exaggerated checkmark in the air.

He went to the bathroom, and she stood, walking to the bedroom, moving the shams to the foot of the bed, then pulled back the pretty navy toned comforter, sighing, struggling with her frustration. This
sucked
. She wanted one simple evening without guns and safety reminders. They couldn’t even be intimate without rehashing the rules keeping her alive. No matter where they were or how fancy their surroundings, she was still Lorenzo Cruz’s prisoner.

Picking up a pillow, she tossed it down with a huff and wandered back to the sitting area as the shower shut off. As she walked toward the bathroom, Jerrod’s cell phone rang. She stopped outside the door, listening, knowing she shouldn’t.