Lady Be Good (16 page)

The cab pulled to the curb about half a block from the hotel, and when Grace felt it stop, she looked out the windshield and saw a small traffic jam in front of the hotel.

The driver said, “Must be a big night tonight—a party letting out. Okay to drop you here?”

“Sure,” Luke said, and he dropped some cash over the seat. “Thanks, pal.”

He got out of the cab first, but Grace lost her shoe trying to scooch across the seat. She paused to retrieve it, and in the moment it took to put the shoe back on her foot, she heard a scuffle on the sidewalk.

“Hey,” the driver said. “
Hey!”

For an instant Grace thought Luke had slipped and fallen on an icy patch of the sidewalk, but as she scrambled out of the car, she saw two burly men had attacked him. One man had a weapon raised—a baseball bat or a pipe, she couldn’t see which—and he brought it down across Luke’s upraised forearm. Luke had ducked to escape the blow, but he took the hit on his arm and suddenly came back up—faster than seemed possible. With one elbow he knocked the first attacker up off his feet and down onto the sidewalk. His cohort threw himself at Luke, only to meet with another powerful shove that sent him spinning into a fireplug. He stumbled over it and sprawled onto the curb.

The first man—heavier, more thug-like--scrambled to his feet and raised his weapon again.

Without thinking, Grace threw her shoe at him.

The shoe glanced off him, but he must have thought it was something more lethal because he ducked, giving Luke just the right opening to land a punch on his face. He crashed down again.

Luke turned to Grace, and he pushed her back against the cab. “Stay there,” he snapped.

The cab driver had climbed out of the car, and he came running around the hood. “Sir—sir, are you hurt?”

That split second was enough time for the two attackers to scrabble away from the cab, and in another moment they were on their feet and running away.

“What the hell,” Luke said.

“Are you okay?” Grace reached for his arm. She’d seen how hard he’d been hit. Surely he had a broken bone.

He shook off her touch and started after the two men. Both of them were running and stumbling, not very fast. No doubt Luke could have caught up with them in seconds.

“No, don’t,” Grace said. “Stop! Luke, please--”

She planted herself in front of him. His face was dark, his jaw set. He stopped, but only because he might have knocked her down by continuing.

The driver retrieved Grace’s shoe and brought it to her. “Here, honey.”

“You threw your shoe at him?” Luke asked on a startled laugh. “Where’s that chapter in the etiquette book?”

“I had to do something.”

The cab driver was badly shaken. “This is very bad. I’m so sorry, sir. I call the police now.”

“No.” Luke’s hand shot out and stopped the driver from lifting his cell phone. “Don’t bother.”

“We can’t let them go.” Grace heard her own voice sounding tight and panicky. “They might try to hurt someone else.”

“It’s all right.” Luke had his arm around her again, holding her steady. “No harm done.”

“No harm? Are you crazy?”

“Put your shoe on.” Luke was calmer by the second.

“That was awful,” Grace said. “Just a few yards from the hotel, too. A random mugging is the last thing--”

“It wasn’t random,” Luke said quietly.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Put your shoe on,” he said again. “We’ll go upstairs.”

He gave the shaken driver a little more cash and sent him on his way. Grace let Luke lead her into the hotel, and they didn’t speak as they rode the elevator up with another young couple who were holding hands smiling at each other. Grace checked her watch. It was after two in the morning.

Their butler had left flickering candles burning in the suite, and a bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice on the glass coffee table. A bowl of strawberries and some chocolates looked delicious, but Grace wasn’t hungry. All thoughts of a night of pleasures had fled her mind.

“Let me see your arm,” she said to Luke.

He allowed her to unbutton his shirt and peel it off. His forearm was already turning purple.

Grace gasped at the sight of it. “We should go get an x-ray.”

“It’s not that bad,” he said. “Let’s make an ice pack. By morning it’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t going to be fine in the morning, Grace could see that. But she forced herself to be calm as she created an ice pack out of the plastic liner from the bathroom trash can. She filled it with ice from the champagne bucket and wrapped the whole thing in a hand towel.

She found Luke in his bathroom, rinsing his knuckles in the sink.

She said, “You hit him hard.”

“Not hard enough, if he could run away,” Luke said with a grim smile. “I’m losing my edge. Good thing you were there with your shoe.”

Grace pulled him into his bedroom and made him sit on the bed. Gently, she applied the ice to his bruise and said, “Now you can explain what you said downstairs.”

Luke shook his head and kept silent.

“It wasn’t random,” Grace said. “How do you know that?”

“Grace--”

“Did they speak to you? Please tell me.”

Reluctantly, he said, “Yes.”

“What did they say?”

“The guy with the pipe. He—Look, Princess, you can’t get upset about this.”

“What did he say?”

“He said to stop asking questions about Jake Kendall.”

9.

Grace was glad to be sitting down. She said, “How did he know we were asking about Jake?”

“I don’t know. That’s all he said. Stop asking questions about Jake Kendall.”

“But—I don’t understand.”

“Me neither.” Luke winced and readjusted the makeshift ice pack.

“The only people we’ve talked to about this are Nora and that agent friend of yours.”

“Ace is not a friend,” Luke said at once.

“We both talked to Darrell, too.”

Luke shook his head. “Darrell wouldn’t have told anybody else. Maybe he said something to Jaydonna, but she wouldn’t have said anything either. The two of them, they’re completely trustworthy.”

“So is Nora. That leaves your agent friend.”

“He’s not a friend,” Luke said again. He was frowning. “Okay, I made a mistake calling Ace. I figured he was someone who’d tell me something, and he did. That means he could have talked to somebody else, too. I should have played this closer to the vest.”

Grace laid her hand on Luke’s good arm. “This is my fault.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’m the one who started asking questions about Jake. I wanted to know why you thought his death wasn’t an accident, and now we’re in the middle of something bad. No, that’s not right. I’m in the clear. You’re the one who was attacked.”

“I survived,” Luke said dryly.

“I’m so sorry about this.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled a little. “No, wait—if feeling sorry for me keeps you in this room tonight, then go ahead and pour as much sympathy as--”

Smiling, too, Grace said, “Don’t make light of this. We’re in a situation here. Somebody threatened you, and we can guess who.”

Luke nodded. “The Abruzzos are the ones who could go to jail for Jake’s murder. So they’re protecting themselves. They’re threatening us to keep us quiet.”

“It makes sense,” Grace said. “Who else would be covering their tracks?”

Luke pulled the ice away from his arm and took a look at the bruise. “This is going to be ugly in the morning.”

Grace realized she was biting her lip. She felt terrible that he’d been hurt. “Are you sure it’s not broken?”

“I’m sure.”

“Luke.”

“Yeah?”

Hardly able to speak aloud, Grace whispered, “I put you in danger.”

He shook his head, not meeting her gaze. “I’ll be fine. But I’m glad you’ll be leaving town soon. Glad we’re both leaving town.”

But Luke’s attackers knew who he was. They probably knew who she was, too. Heaven only knew how far the Abruzzo family would go to protect themselves.

Grace said, “We should contact the police.”

Luke said. “I don’t want to make things worse for anybody else. Your friend Nora, for one.”

“You’re right. I should call her. Warn her.” Grace rubbed her forehead, wishing she could massage some sensible thoughts into her brain. But she was tired. The adrenaline that had flashed through her system when she saw Luke attacked was now making her feel shaky.

“Not tonight,” Luke said. “It’s too late to call anyone.”

It was very late. The sounds of the city seemed subdued. No traffic, no sirens, no car alarms. Just quiet.

Grace gave Luke a smile that she could feel was trembling at the edges. “I have to admit, I’m nervous.”

“We’re safe here. The Abruzzos can’t get into the hotel.”

“I’m not nervous about them.”

He read her expression and looked surprised. “You’re afraid of me?”

She smiled uncertainly. “Not afraid. How can I explain this? I’m uneasy about where we’re going, Luke.”

“To bed,” he murmured, already tracing a kiss along her temple.

“Yes,” Grace whispered. “I’m going to spend the rest of the night enjoying every inch of you. But I’m not really a one-night-stand kind of girl.”

He stopped kissing her, and a fine line appeared between his eyebrows. “I can’t promise you a lifetime of champagne and roses, Princess.”

“I’m not looking for a commitment,” Grace said at once. “I don’t even know who I am at the moment, let alone what I can be with you. We’ve only known each other—what? A little more than a day, but it seems longer. I trust you. Am I right to trust you?”

“Probably not,” he said, teasing. “If I had my way, you’d have been naked hours ago.”

Grace smiled. “You’ve done a lot of things to make me feel comfortable with you. And so this feels right. It’s like an adventure. But one where I’m not going to get hurt.”

He smiled, too. “You’re not going to get hurt.”

She stopped him from peeling her sweater the whole way off her shoulder. “But I don’t want either one of us to be sorry in the morning, either.”

How could she verbalize her biggest fear? That she wouldn’t measure up to some kind of standard he had? He had enjoyed so many lovers. By comparison, her experience had been quite limited. Was he going to be disappointed?

Maybe he guessed what worried her. He said, “I’m not going to make you feel sorry about anything, Grace.”

“I feel—I want—I don’t know.”

He was kissing her then. Against her mouth, he said, “I don’t know what I want yet either. Except you, here, tonight.”

He eased her sweater off and touched her, kissed her. She slid out of his arms and stood up to kick off her shoes and wiggle out of her skirt. He watched while she undressed, his gaze turning even bluer when she slipped off her underwear and blushed. Gently, he pressed her down on the bed.

He said her name. Found ways to make her sigh.

In the bed, skin to skin, she liked the unhurried, thorough way he made love. Telling her what he wanted, showing her. Then letting her take the lead.

Here, he said. Now. Do you like this? Can I do that?

Yes, she said. Yes.

He made her feel confident.

In the heat of it all, she completely forgot to ask the questions she’d advised other women to ask before tumbling into bed. Dear Miss Vanderbine was long gone.

A couple of hours later, physically spent, yet too keyed up to sleep, they drank the cold champagne and ate strawberries. A couple hours after that, the sun came up and Grace felt as if she was floating on the edge of something happy and wonderful … while holding something darker at bay. She fell asleep tangled up with him, still not sure what she wanted, but very much liking what she had in the moment.

It was Luke’s voice that brought her up from the depths of sleep in the morning. She sat up in the bed before she realized he was talking in the next room.

Grace slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and smoothed her tumbled hair. She found the hotel bathrobe.

Tying the belt, she went out into the living room.

Luke was on the phone. He was propped up on the sofa, wearing nothing more than a pair of running shorts. His bare shoulders were thrown into dramatic relief by the slanting morning sunlight that shone through the windows. He had one large running shoe on his lap, and he was struggling with a knot in the laces while pinning the receiver between his ear and naked shoulder. He looked like a young man who’d had a very good night.

“Yeah,” he said into the phone. “Just tell him thanks, Jaydonna. And, hey, it was great seeing you. Call me when you get to Florida. I’ll come down and hit some tennis balls with you.”

He laughed at something Jaydonna said and hung up the phone. Grace leaned down to kiss him on the back of his neck. He turned around, took her face between his hands and pulled her over the back of the sofa. She let him do it and ended up on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His kiss was warm and eager.

When she finally pulled away and smiled into his eyes, she said, “Tell me you didn’t take your life in your hands and go running outside this morning.”

“No,” he said. “I went to the gym downstairs. Sorry. I need a shower. How are you?”

Grace stretched out with him on the sofa, not caring if he needed a shower, letting their legs entwine. Truth be told, she probably needed one, too. Maybe they’d test drive the shower together in a little while. “I’m wonderful, thank you.”

“Sorry about anything?”

“No. Very happy that we did this.”

“It wasn’t too much of an adventure?”

He was teasing, and she smiled. “Not too much. But—how’s your arm?”

He held it up for her to see, demonstrating just how purple human flesh could turn. Grace gasped and made an instinctive move to touch him, then pulled back, afraid to inflict more discomfort.

“Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry! It must be terribly painful.”

“You forget, I’m almost immune to pain.” He looked at his bruised arm ruefully. “Looks bad, though, doesn’t it?”

Grace found herself struggling to hold back tears.

“Hey,” Luke said, sitting up when he realized she was distressed. “Hey, don’t. I’m fine, no kidding. Don’t cry. Here, finish off the strawberries. There’s chocolate, too. I ordered some breakfast. Or lunch. Brunch. Whatever you call it, it’ll be up here in a little while. Don’t cry, Grace.”