Mac's Angels: The Last Dance: A Loveswept Classic Romance (3 page)

Sterling’s heart sank when she saw the waiter from the bar being rushed toward the man in the gray suit. They talked briefly for a moment, then the
aide touched his head and extended his hand as if he were giving an urgent order.

“Darling,” Sterling said, “I think we’d better hurry. I feel a little odd.” She touched her stomach and bent over, whispering, “The real Conner’s here. How’d he know?”

“I told my office to call him,” Mac said under his breath, then more loudly, “You can’t have the baby here, darling. We’re almost at our gate.”

Mac had seen Conner and Conner had just seen them. Though how he managed to get here when he was supposed to be at a luncheon, she couldn’t imagine. He came to a sudden stop and engaged the senator’s aide in conversation. The conversation became heated. Conner suddenly drew back and belted the aide. Instantly, the guards surrounded Conner, turning their backs on the tram.

The tram came to a quick stop. Mac lifted Sterling out of the car and dashed down a corridor, leaving the old man and his wife in stunned disbelief.

“Sorry,” Mac called behind. “We have to hurry. We’re having our baby at home. In—Aspen.”

“Aspen?” Sterling repeated, breathless from being in his arms. “I’m sorry, Mac. But Aspen?”

“Sure,” he said, pushing through the double doors and past a desk where two pilots were studying charts. “What’s wrong with Aspen? I like snow, don’t you?”

“Not a bit.”

He moved through another set of doors, then nodded at an employee at the foot of the steps leading
up to a sleek silver jet. “Fine, once the baby comes, we’ll move to Hawaii,”

There was no sign of the policemen, but Sterling knew it was only a matter of minutes before they’d show up. She tried to hide her fear by keeping with the silly conversation Mac had started.

“Okay, Mac. Hawaii, it is.”

Mac climbed the stairs without a hint of strain. “Close the doors, John. Let’s get out of here while we can. The posse is right behind us.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. McAllister.”

By the time Mac had deposited Sterling in one of the luxurious leather seats, the plane was taxiing across the tarmac, headed toward the runway.

“Are you all right?” Mac asked Sterling.

“Well, my stomach has settled down, but I’m having trouble with this ‘baby’ poking into my ribs. I think his skin is made of leather.”

“Complaints, complaints, that’s the way with you pregnant women. Here, let me fasten your seat belt.”

She could have done it herself, but for now she was content to let him help her. Until he leaned forward and reached for the belt behind her. Big mistake. Her body felt as if
it
were the object taking off into the sky and not the plane.

“Mac, if you’ll let me deliver our … baby first, it’ll be easier.”

“My mama told me that I should never take the easy way out.” He pulled the long end from beneath
her bottom, snapped it into the buckle, then adjusted the location of the belt.

“Mine too. But she also said if you want a thing done right, you’d better do it yourself.”

“And everyone knows that Sterling Lindsey is a do-it-herself, in-charge-of-her-fate woman, don’t they?”

“Yes, she is.” Sterling caught his hand and held it for a moment. “Mac, thank you. You probably saved my life.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We’re not off the ground.”

She was much too close, too trusting, and as his mother might have said, he was treading in shark-infested waters. Helping people was one thing. But this was different. This was rapidly becoming personal. And his record with women he cared about was so bad that he’d sworn never to become emotionally involved with one again.

Mac leaned back, removing his hand from Sterling’s. “Are we cleared for takeoff, John?” he called out to the pilot.

“Yes, sir. Just delaying till you got aboard.”

“Then get us moving before they have time to stop us.”

“Sure thing, sir.”

The engines climbed to a steady roar and the plane moved forward. Once they were airborne, Mac moved to the cockpit to confer with the pilot.

Sterling pulled the jacket from beneath her sweater. There was no longer a need for a disguise. No more family hurrying home for Christmas. No
more little girl and no more twins. She let out a sigh. The fantasy had been fun—for a while.

Mac soon returned and sat down beside her. “All right, I’m ready to listen. Who is the man in the gray suit?”

The time had come for Sterling to tell Mac the truth.

“Give me a minute,” she said as she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Every bone in her body ached. But it wasn’t physical pain that paralyzed her now; it was the emotional anguish that drained the movement from her body. She didn’t ask where they were going or how Mac intended to get away. All she cared about was that for now she was safe.

As if he understood her mental exhaustion, Mac didn’t press her. Instead, she heard him rise once more and walk over to the cockpit, to have a quiet conversation with the pilot. Moments later she heard the clatter of glass hit the counter. A door—a cabinet opened and closed. Then footsteps.

“Sterling? Drink this.”

She opened her eyes.

Mac was sitting beside her, holding out a glass of burgundy liquid. “It’s whiskey.”

“Oh, I’m not much on hard liquor.”

“This is medicinal, not social. Drink it, Sterling.”

She sat up straight, accepted the glass, and took a reluctant sip. With a grimace she swallowed it and forced herself to take more. The whiskey acted as a warming agent, accelerating her heartbeat and calming her nerves. With two more sips she emptied the glass and handed it to Mac.

“I’m sorry, Mac. I’m taking you away from the wedding and putting you in danger. If you’ll just get me on a plane for Virginia, I’d appreciate it. I knew I shouldn’t have come.”

Then why did you?
He wanted to ask. It would have been nice if she’d come because she was just a little curious about him.

Sterling’s gaze darted away from his, as if she was as uncomfortable about seeing him in person as he was right now. The paleness of her skin and the tight expression she’d drawn on her face truly worried him. She wasn’t as strong as she pretended to be and he very much wanted to protect her and not scare her away.

In spite of the fact Sterling was on first name-basis with half the powerful people in the Western world, Mac believed that she really didn’t leave her office. What was happening to her now had to be a big surprise.

For Mac, her need for a wheelchair was an even
bigger one. Conner had never once mentioned Sterling’s handicap. It had seemed odd when Conner arranged for her to have living quarters in the building where Paradox, Inc. was located, but Mac too lived where he worked, so it didn’t seem out of the ordinary. Conner gave Sterling a beachside apartment in Virginia Beach, one that was attached to the headquarters and easily accessible to her office.

What Mac didn’t understand was that Conner never explained why he’d gone through the trouble of creating an apartment for her there. He could only assume that the danger, the chair, and her isolation were connected. Conner was a man with a big heart. If Sterling couldn’t walk on the beach, it would be just like Conner to give her a balcony from which she would enjoy the ocean breezes and the sun.

But there was no evidence that she’d made use of that sunlight. Her skin was much too milky white. She removed the baseball cap from her head, allowing a mass of dark brown hair to fall over her shoulders and down her back, a casual look that Mac doubted many ever saw.

What
had
convinced her to come to the wedding? He knew she’d had other invitations to special events, and they apparently hadn’t drawn her out of her safe, well-organized world. Not even Conner and Erica’s wedding had enticed her. But she’d left Virginia and flown to New Orleans for this one. Perhaps—there it was, Sterling’s own soft-spoken
word that so intrigued him—
Perhaps
I’ll come, she’d said. We’ll see.

Suddenly it all became clear. He’d challenged her to come. And she had. He’d brought her into danger because he’d wanted to meet her. And now he had the responsibility of removing her from that danger. Nothing new about that. He’d spent the last half of his life trying to rectify problems for others. So far his success rate had been pretty good, for acquaintances and strangers.

In order to succeed with Sterling, he had to maintain that distance. He couldn’t let this become personal. Personal failure had isolated Mac almost as much as Sterling’s chair had isolated her. They were two of a kind. That was not a reassuring thought.

As he watched, Sterling seemed to fade visibly. He had to revive her if he were going to find the answers he needed. What was that she’d called him. Barney. He smiled, assuming that she was referring to the Rubbles, not the dinosaur. Barney … what was Barney’s wife’s name. He ought to know.

Bingo. Betty.

“Er … Don’t worry about missing the wedding, Betty, a wedding’s no big deal. I’m just worried about … about little Conner and Rhett and Erica. They’ll be so disappointed. We did promise them some wedding cake, didn’t we?”

Her eyelids flew open.

She had cat eyes—green, with little flecks of brown that matched her hair. Where they’d been
veiled and calm earlier, a liveliness now came rushing back.

“Betty?” she asked.

“Why not? Barney is married to Betty, isn’t he? I don’t watch cartoons but I seem to remember
The Flintstones
.”

Mac tried to maintain the serious look he was always accused of having. This ongoing exchange of quips was something new. He wasn’t quite certain of its result. He’d never made small talk with a woman. Now, leaning forward, he surprised himself further as he threaded his fingers through hers and laid her hand across her stomach. “And think of the baby.”

“Lincoln McAllister, if I didn’t know better, I’d
think
it was you who got pounded in a fistfight at the terminal, not Conner.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to let them all grow up and get married. They can have their own cake.”

Now that he had her relaxed and talking, he voiced the question he had to have answered. “Who is he, Sterling?”

“Who?” she asked.
You sound incredibly stupid, Sterling. You’re feeling a man’s hand on your body and your mind is turning to mush
.

“The man who was searching the airport, looking for you.”

“I don’t know his name,” she said, putting aside the fun and games. “I just know he’s a murderer. And unless you get away from me, he’ll come after you too.”

“I’m sure he will. He didn’t look like the kind of
man to take no for an answer. But you didn’t answer my question. Why is the man in the gray suit after you?”

She took a deep breath.

Mac squeezed her hand. “Tell me, Sterling.”

She nodded. If Mac was anything like the powerful men in her past, he wouldn’t believe her, but she’d tell him anyway. It might be the only way he could save his own life. Hers? She wasn’t at all certain that was possible anymore.

“The last time I saw him was a decade ago. I was an intern in an investment firm. The man I worked for had just landed a new client. Some kind of reclusive Howard Hughes type. He was very mysterious, insisting on setting up an appointment at lunchtime when the office was supposed to be empty.”

“How’d you get involved?”

“If I hadn’t been such a klutz, I’d have been gone. I was in the copy room, trying to run off and collate some brochures about a new stock offering. Mr. Eldon wanted it ready to show to his new client, in case he was interested in additional investments. But I couldn’t get the machine to work right and I was running late.”

She paused, flashing back to that day in her mind. She had been so young then, so full of drive and ambition. Sterling Lindsey had successfully completed her classes at William and Mary. The big city of Philadelphia would, if the internship with the small but prestigious investment firm worked out, be her new home.

Assisting the senior partner in the office was her assignment. She hadn’t known then that Mr. Eldon was easing his way to retirement, that his client list had shrunk to the point where he was merely a figurehead, and that her internship would be less challenging than working in the mailroom. Sterling thought he was a kind and caring man, willing to teach her about the business. To complete the future she’d planned, she was engaged to an up-and-coming financial planner who was working on his MBA. Once her internship was complete, the two of them would be ready to take on the world.

Until that fateful day.

Mr. Eldon had been extremely anxious and fidgety. He explained that the amount of money involved in this deal was staggering. The phone call from the well-known, reclusive millionaire came from out of the blue. He wanted to buy bearer bonds and had insisted the transaction be handled in the office rather than at the bank. His reputation for avoiding the public eye was common knowledge, so there was no reason to doubt his request for privacy and for the unmarked bonds.

The partners were surprised. Though Mr. Eldon had once been very successful, years had passed since he’d brought a large amount of money into the firm. He’d been relegated to researching and preparing brochures. This sale would be considered a coup. Mr. Eldon would regain respect. His prestige would be restored.

By the time Sterling ran off the pages for the
prospectus and collated them, her lunch hour had already begun. Frantically, she got the last pages into the spiral binding and returned to Mr. Eldon’s office, glancing at the wall clock.

“Oops!” She’d really let the time get away. She should have finished thirty minutes ago. It was time for Mr. Eldon’s appointment. She dashed down the inside connecting corridor. The office next door was empty. She and Mr. Eldon were the only ones left on their end of the hall. Sterling felt a knot in her stomach. She’d better hurry.

She twisted the knob on the rear door to Mr. Eldon’s office and backed inside, turning as she entered. “I’m sorry. It took longer than I thought to …” It wasn’t Mr. Eldon kneeling in front of the safe. It was a tall man in jeans and a pullover shirt. Over his face he wore a loose-fitting ski mask with holes cut for his eyes and mouth. At Sterling’s entrance he sprang to his feet, turned, and pointed a revolver straight at her.