When Empires Fall (53 page)

The morning sun
woke him as it broke through the gauzy curtains of her bedroom window, shining directly onto his face. Bright red and orange glowed against his eyelids, causing him to automatically pull the pillow over his face to shield him in darkness once more.

But the hands that suddenly slid over his back and traveled down his shoulder and arm had him smiling, his system heating almost instantly.

“But it’s so early, warden. Can’t I just sleep a bit longer?” Linc asked, sleep putting a deep rasp into his voice that was darkened by his immediate, primal response to her hands cruising over his skin.

“Sorry, but I have to send you out to work,” Lynette murmured playfully, planting kisses along his shoulder and biting gently, teasing him.

“Fuck work,” Linc growled as he suddenly rolled over and pinned her beneath him, kissing her hard and fast on the lips before his own curved into a mischievous grin. “Unless you wanna come in with me today so I can parade you around like the miracle you are.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Walter doesn’t need any more distractions. Nor do you.”

“My whole life is a distraction,” he said easily as he combed his fingers through her hair, enjoying the way the sun glowed bright in the copper strands against the white of her pillowcase. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“That’s sweet, but I can’t.” She lifted her head to kiss his nose, her eyes sparkling. “I have rehearsal today. In…” she glanced over at the digital clock resting on her nightstand and sighed. “Twenty minutes.”

“Good. That gives me fifteen minutes to seduce you.” He kissed her again with relish, amused when she started beating her hands against his chest, only to groan when his mouth found the soft spot just under her ear.

“Oh, no. No, I need to go,” Lynette whined, arching beneath him even as she tried to get free. “Linc, really. I have to go.”

“But you don’t want to,” he ventured, releasing her and meeting her eyes as she sat up, the blankets and sheets in a puddle around her slender body.

She shook her head, her eyes softening.

“I never want to leave you,” she said quietly, her lips parting as he reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to her open palm, his blue eyes sharp and focused on hers, darkened by an emotion she only wished she could understand.

“I love you.”

“I know,” she whispered, pulling her hand free and racing off into the bathroom to shower, needing space from him before she gave in and missed her rehearsal.

Linc fell back against the pillows and sprawled lazily, listening to the hiss of the shower as she turned it on. He closed his eyes and imagined her stepping under the hot spray of water, toying with the idea of joining her.

Instead, he did the noble thing and got dressed, went into her kitchen, and made her breakfast.

As he cooked scrambled eggs and made toast, he thought of the week they’d had together since the fundraiser. Nearly every day they had both been busier than hell, but they made time for other, more important things during the cool, early spring nights.

He hadn’t been to his own apartment other than to grab a change of clothes in days. For some reason, she seemed more comfortable in her own space, which he felt he could respect. Her place wasn’t as large as his, but it was definitely more cozy.

Which was always a welcome relief after the hectic chaos that was the hotel nowadays. With Win on lockdown in his suite, Grant glowering over tanking reservation numbers, and Madison running around barking orders and making demands, it had been a trying few days for everyone. Not to mention Marshall, who had pretty much bailed out on all of them out of spite. At least, Linc figured that’s what he was doing, as he hadn’t been by the hotel much at all. When he was, he was in his office packing up his stuff like he had been fired.

Shaking his head, Linc dumped some eggs onto a plate for Lynette and frowned. The only person who seemed to be in high spirits was his mother, who had been parading around announcing Madison’s new gig to anyone who would listen. It was equally as despicable as what Marshall was doing. It seemed like, for once, Win was the only one staying relatively out of trouble.

Which, Linc knew, was a goddamn blessing.

“Oh, you cooked,” Lynette said suddenly as she swept into the kitchen, her gym bag filled with her dancing clothes and ballet shoes hanging over one shoulder, her long copper hair tied back in a bun at the nape of her neck. Her pretty blue eyes shot from the eggs and back up to his face, a smile curving her lips. “Praise the Lord, the Yankee can cook.”

“I have a small set of domestic skills, thank you very much,” Linc mused as he plopped a couple slices of wheat toast down upon her plate and handed it to her. “But I don’t do dishes.”

“Of course you don’t,” Lynette said dryly, accepting the plate with raised eyebrows. She glanced down at her watch and let out an anxious huff of breath. “Looks like I’ll be eating this on the road. Thanks for feeding me.”

“No problem.” Linc grinned as she kissed his cheek and raced from her apartment, plate in hand, shutting the door behind her. He stared after her and bit into a piece of wheat toast, wondering when she was going to let him give her a goddamn ring.

He had no way of knowing that proposing to his girlfriend was going to be the furthest thing from his mind in only a matter of hours.

The guard nodded
politely to the maid as she sidled down the hallway, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies like she had done nearly every day for the last twenty years. She paused before the door of the suite and knocked.

“Housekeeping,” she announced, wiping her hands on the apron of her uniform while she waited for the guest to answer. It was strange for her to have a guest be present while she cleaned his room, but this particular guest had not been allowed to leave. Not even to go downstairs. It was very odd, and likely scandalous, but she was too good and too loyal of an employee to say a word about it to the press or to her own family. Instead, she kept her head down and made sure not to get in the man’s way while she changed the sheets and tidied the bathroom.

But on this particular morning, he wasn’t answering. She knocked again before glancing up at the guard. “Maybe he is sleeping. He gets drunk and doesn’t wake up. It happens, sometimes.”

The guard snorted, then turned and pounded on the door himself. “Mr. Vasser, please open the door. The maid is here.”

When there was still no answer, he sighed and reached for his card key, swiping it in the slot and pushing open the door.

“Go on in. He’s probably on the toilet or something.” The guard stepped back and let the maid enter the room. As she did so, her eyes scanned around curiously, immediately noting that the man was nowhere in sight.

She bit her bottom lip nervously and wandered towards the bathroom of the suite, noting that the door was slightly open, the shower running. There were no other sounds.

“Housekeeping,” she said again, approaching the bathroom door warily, her nerves getting the best of her as her hands began to tremble. “Mr. Vasser?”

She pushed open the door slowly, and steam from the shower poured out into the bedroom, hot and hazy, clouding her vision. But when she turned to face the shower, she spotted him, his body lifeless and limp, hanging from the frame of the shower door.

Her scream could be heard throughout the entire thirtieth floor.

W
hat do you mean you don’t like it?” Raoul snapped, his temper flaring up ferociously as he glared at his boss, a plate of
scallops
à
la bordelaise
in his hand.

Madison frowned at him, her gaze mild and dispassionate. “It has too much spice, Raoul. You’re letting the Spanish in your blood influence this classic French dish. It needs to be fixed.”

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a furious breath, struggling to contain his anger. “It is perfect the way it is.”

“No, it is not.” She turned and rested her hip against the sleek stainless steel kitchen table between them, folding her arms over her chest indifferently. With one eyebrow raised, she spoke again, her voice level and controlled. “Next dish, please.”

Though he wanted nothing more than to hurl the dish with the scallops into the wall, he tossed it carelessly into the sink instead with a loud crash and handed her the next dish, filled with a carefully seared chunk of prime choice beef and sprigs of asparagus.

“Well?” he grunted, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her as she sampled the steak, slicing into the meat using only her fork.

She took a bite and slowly chewed, measuring the texture and flavor carefully with each bite. Satisfied, she swallowed and bowed her head graciously to him. “Exquisite. We will add that to the new menu.”

Though his temper was cooling, Raoul grabbed the plate from her and scowled anyway. “You better. I work hard on all of this, for you,
cariño
. I expect appreciation.”

“And I appreciate you, darling, more than I think that thick head of yours will ever understand.” She smirked, glancing down at her watch. “Everyone should be flying in soon. We’ll have a whole herd of people to feed tonight.”

Raoul snorted disdainfully as he finalized the plating on the next dish. “They do not come out of respect. They come for money.”

With a sardonic laugh, Madison eyed him curiously. “Is that so?”

“Of course it is,” he spat, thrusting the next dish at her hastily, his dark eyes meeting hers. “They come to take advantage of you,
cariño
. Those who know about the will, they think you are weak, that you have been given something that you cannot handle. They will try and take it from you, and once the others know the truth, they will too.”

“Pity they do not know me very well, then,” she mused, oddly pleased and a little surprised that Raoul was so rabidly defending her. Then again, he had been one of the few people to always stay by her side, through thick and thin. “I have no intention of letting this go, darling. Do not worry yourself over me.”

He rested his hands on the table and met her eyes, his own dark and filled with sympathy and unhappiness. “You are still grieving, old friend.”

“Of course I am,” she said softly, though the look on his face and his words had shaken her. Even she had managed to ignore the worst of the grief for the last few days, suffering only when she was alone, in solitude, confined to her own misery. But here, at work, she usually managed to push aside all of her feelings towards her grandfather; her love for him, the sharp sting of betrayal, the emptiness of his loss and the fear of filling his shoes. It was, even for her, getting to be too much to handle. “I loved the man, Raoul. With everything I am. And in the end, he fooled me just as badly, if not worse, than Wyatt Bailey had.”

Raoul cursed harshly under his breath in his native tongue, rage in his eyes as he glared at her. “If he had shown his face in here, he would have found my butcher knife in his chest.”

“I had the same idea.” Madison grinned devilishly, though her eyes had darkened with the anguish that came from simply remembering the man. “But I refrained. There has been enough death around this place for the time being.”

Raoul sniffed disdainfully and wiped his hands hastily with a nearby kitchen towel before tossing it down upon the table with relish. “Your
padre
needs breakfast,
cariño
. Should I poison his food today or tomorrow?”