Читать книгу Not-So-Secret Baby - Jo Leigh - Страница 10

Nick pulled himself together as it registered that it really was Jenny. He would have known her anywhere. God, how many times had he thought he’d seen her in a restaurant or at a gas station? How many nights had she haunted his dreams…?

She’d come back. If he hadn’t seen her with his own eyes, he’d never have believed it.

She walked down the metal ladder to the tarmac, a purse over her shoulder, an overnight case in her hand. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, as if she’d thrown it up in a hurry. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but the thin line of her lips telegraphed her anxiety.

His gaze moved down the rest of her, the long, slender body he’d known too briefly. She seemed awfully thin, fragile. He’d always thought of her as fragile, though.

Her jeans were worn Levi’s, her shirt plain white, short-sleeved, pressed. None of the designer clothes she’d worn when he’d known her before. Why in hell was she back? Surely she wasn’t going to hook up with Todd again. Hadn’t she had enough?

He remembered the last time he’d seen her. She’d been scared. No, terrified. As he had with every other possession, Todd had held on to her with an iron fist. She’d had to plan an escape, as daring as any prison break. Like a fool, Nick had helped her, putting everything he had on the line. He should have stayed out of it. But the welts on her back, the bruises on her legs…

She said something to Gina, then turned his way, walked as if each step cost her, which, if she was headed back to the Xanadu, was sickeningly true.

He opened the back door of the limo, took his place beside it. Waited as she got closer. Wondered…

She stopped about twenty-five yards from the car. Her mouth opened slightly as she recognized him. With a slow hand, she took off her dark sunglasses.

Where she’d looked anxious a moment ago, he now saw surprise furrow her brow. She hadn’t expected him. Was she pleased? Embarrassed?

Moving forward again, her gaze moved down to the tarmac until she was even with the front of the limo. “Nick,” she said, her voice bringing back memories he’d just as soon forget.

“I never expected to see you again.”

She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again he saw a hardness that hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen her. “Things change.”

“Yeah,” he said. He took her overnight bag, like the good little chauffeur that he was, then helped her into the cavernous back seat, startled at how she nearly disappeared against the white of the interior.

He put her bag in the trunk, then got in behind the wheel. The moment he turned on the engine, the bullet-proof Plexiglas that separated the wheat from the chaff lowered a few inches. Not enough for him to see more than the top of her pale blond head, but enough for him to hear her.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“Me? Swell. In fact, I haven’t had to be a driver for over a year, with the obvious exception of this trip. I’m moving up the food chain.”

“I see,” she said, although he knew she didn’t see at all.

“What brings you back to sunny Las Vegas? Come to see the new Celine Dion theater?”

She didn’t answer until he’d reached St. Rose Parkway, heading toward 15. “I see you’ve still got that charming wit.”

He glanced in the rearview, but she was staring out her window, hidden once more behind her sunglasses. “I just do what I’m told,” he said. “Keep my nose clean.”

He heard her sigh, and for a moment he felt bad. But only for a moment. She’d gotten away once. He doubted she’d get away again. The woman knew who Todd was, had seen what he could do. And still, she’d come back. Probably for the money. Wasn’t that always the bottom line?

Hell, she’d never had it so good as when she belonged to Todd. She’d been a cocktail waitress working her way through U.N.L.V. when Todd had found her. He’d fallen hard from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her and he’d pursued her with his unique brand of determination. Jenny had been all of twenty-one when he’d begun his campaign. Todd’d treated her like a queen, taking her to the best shows, the finest restaurants. They’d traveled a lot in the jet and he’d even set her up with her own suite at Xanadu. Right down the hall from his.

Nick had been an errand boy back then. He’d just started with the organization and was learning the ropes when he’d been assigned as her driver and bodyguard.

Nick had been attracted to her from the start. Who wouldn’t be? It wasn’t just her looks, although they would have been enough, but Jenny was bright, funny and had a sweetness about her that made him think of his childhood in Wichita. Todd had him watch her like a hawk, not the least bit afraid that Nick would take advantage of the situation. A man would have to be an idiot to touch Todd’s woman.

But during that time Nick had come to know her. He’d understood how she’d found herself in a situation she’d been woefully unprepared to handle. By the time she’d figured it all out, it had been too late. A captive in a glitter palace, she was subject to Todd’s capriciousness and vile temper. That’s why Nick had helped her. Because she’d been a victim. This time, she was walking in of her own free will. She probably thought she had good reasons, but as far as he could tell, no reason could be good enough for someone like Jenny to walk back into the lion’s den.

A soft mechanical whir made him look back just in time to see the window go up, locking them each in their own compartments. He wished she would move so he could see her more clearly in the rearview. But maybe she didn’t want to be seen.

He kept his eyes on the road. She wasn’t his affair. Messing with Jenny Granger was a surefire way to get himself killed.

JENNY LEANED HER HEAD back against the plush white leather of the limo seat. She knew Todd wouldn’t hurt Patrick, but the knowledge didn’t make things easier. There were only three things she loved in this whole world. Her mother. Her son. And the man in the front seat.

At least, she’d thought she’d loved him.

She stared out the window at the familiar landscape. Here, in Henderson, the city looked like any other. There was the Super Kmart, the 99-Cent store, the dry cleaner’s. Of course, other cities didn’t have casinos every few blocks or video poker in the grocery stores. But lives were led here that weren’t connected to the massive gaming industry. Kids went to school, mothers drove in car pools.

She hadn’t seen her own mother in more than two years. Like someone in the Witness Security Program, she’d cut off her ties to the past, because she’d known Todd would stop at nothing to find her. She still couldn’t figure out how her cover had been blown. She’d been meticulous in her deception, covering every base. She had a birth certificate and social security card, both in the name of Mary Pierson. She’d moved to Milford knowing Todd had never heard of the place and that she had no ties to the tiny city whatsoever.

So where had she slipped up? She shook her head. What difference did it make? He’d found her. Discovered Patrick. And now, she was sure, he’d demand his pound of flesh.

She’d done the one thing Todd couldn’t tolerate—she’d tricked him. She’d run off with no warning and no word. Risked everything. He hadn’t known she was pregnant. But he had decided to marry her. In those last few weeks, she’d been witness to Todd’s astonishing ego, his taste for luxury and glitz.

No one belonged in Las Vegas more than C. Randall Todd. He was the epitome of conspicuous consumption, and for Todd more was not enough. Nothing was enough. God, the money he’d spent on her. She could have lived for a year in Milford on the diamond he’d given her for their first month anniversary. If she’d taken it with her. She hadn’t. She hadn’t wanted anything of his, no matter how high the resale value. He was the most purely evil man she’d ever met.

Stupid, stupid and naive. She’d never believed anyone could be that evil, not in the flesh. She’d been so blind, so trusting. There was no one to blame but herself, and now Patrick was in the bastard’s clutches.

She would not cry. Her gaze moved back to the man behind the wheel. Big mistake.

Nick Mason. The one bright light in what had been the worst year of her life. Yes, he’d been a part of Todd’s machine, but he wasn’t like the others. Not like Henry Sweet, Todd’s right-hand man who frightened her almost as much as Todd himself. No, Nick had been human toward her, even kind. For a long time she’d even thought he’d felt more. It didn’t matter. He’d helped her escape despite the terrible risk.

She’d tried to convince him to leave, too, but he’d been stubborn. Adamant that staying with Todd would ensure his future, even though he knew the kind of man Todd was. But he’d clearly succumbed to Todd’s philosophy: get what you want, no matter who it hurt or what it cost. The moment she’d seen Nick’s face she realized whatever tenderness he’d felt for her had evolved into something bitter and harsh. What she hadn’t counted on was how much that realization would hurt.

He must know that Todd had Patrick. How could he possibly be a part of that? She yearned to ask him about it, to find out if her boy was okay, but she knew better. The limo was undoubtedly bugged. Todd never let an opportunity pass to trip someone up. If she said the wrong thing, it could cost her more than she could afford.

Clearly the years had not been kind to Nick, at least on the inside. The facade had held up, though. Time hadn’t changed the fact that he was the best-looking man she’d ever seen.

His dark hair was shorter, parted on the side, debonair with just a hint of gray at the temples. He had that damn cleft in his chin that had held her fascination for countless hours. He had thick, expressive eyebrows designed to bring attention to his amazing eyes. His body still made her think of tightly coiled strength, powerful beneath the silk shirt, the elegantly simple suit.

He’d worked his looks to his advantage, knowing he projected the perfect image of a high-powered, sophisticated big wheel. Just as Xanadu was the most opulent hotel casino in Vegas, the people closest to the man had to look like a million bucks 24/7. The only time she’d seen Nick out of a designer suit was when he’d jogged in the morning. And when he’d lain naked in her bed.

She shifted her gaze, unwilling to think about that time. Even though the repercussions continued to reverberate, it was history. She’d cut herself off from any part of Todd’s world long ago, and this nightmare didn’t change anything. She’d find a way to escape again. And to take her boy with her.

Looking down, it occurred to her that she wouldn’t be wearing her jeans again, not while she was here. Todd had always wanted her to be as elegantly dressed as his staff. More so. It had taken her too long to understand that one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted to let her go was that she looked like a cross between a showgirl and a schoolteacher. She’d been every bit as much a showpiece as the diamonds and the designer gowns he’d had her wear.

She caught Nick’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He’d donned sunglasses, but his expression was hard as stone. Why? What had she done to him? More to the point, what kind of a horror story had Todd concocted to taint her?

She’d been so sure that beneath Nick’s facade beat a good heart; held that notion close through almost three long years of isolation and strain. But now that she’d seen him again, she knew it had all been smoke and mirrors. She didn’t really love him. She’d just built an elaborate fantasy out of loneliness and fear. Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t make her feel any better.

She not only ached with worry for her baby, but the slender thread of hope that she’d have someone on her side had snapped when she’d first seen Nick. She was on her own. Which would have been okay if it hadn’t been for Patrick. What kind of life would he have under the wing of such a vicious hawk?

Her eyes filled with hot tears and though she tried to blink them back, it was no use. Watching the Strip grow larger as they sped down the freeway turned the nightmare into reality.

Never before, not the whole time she’d been in Milford, had she felt so alone. Her wet gaze moved back to Nick, to his tense shoulders, his hand gripping the steering wheel. All the way to Las Vegas she’d staved off hysteria by thinking about Nick. Once again, she’d proved to herself that she was nothing more than a naive fool. Wrong in the most fundamental ways. Hell, she’d been wrong since the day she’d first met C. Randall Todd. But even so, some prices were too high to pay.

She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands and prayed to a God she no longer believed in. She was heading to hell in a white chariot. Alone. Completely alone.

LOCATED BETWEEN the Flamingo and Balley’s, Xanadu was more of a palace than a hotel. With more than three thousand rooms, seven world-class restaurants, one of the largest casinos on the Strip, and a reputation for customer satisfaction unparalleled in a city known for indulgence, Xanadu far exceeded anything Kubla Khan could have imagined.

The building itself was silver and in the bright June sunlight it seemed molten and fluid, which was exactly what Todd had wanted. Using the old Coleridge poem as his guide, Todd had built the stately pleasure dome, complete with sunless sea, more than a mile of meandering river through woods and dales, leading to the mystical caverns below, where designer shops were carved out of rock and the music of the dulcimer floated in the purified air. All of it skillfully, masterfully, designed to part guests from their money.

As the limo approached the porte cochere, Jenny’s stomach clenched as the fear she’d been keeping at arm’s length sunk into her very bones. She had to swallow hard to keep from being sick and it was only thoughts of Patrick that kept her from running.

The window separating her from Nick lowered as they moved into the valet lane. “No place like home, eh?”

His sarcasm was as bitter as the bile in the back of her throat. “You’ve certainly made it yours,” she said, struggling to keep her voice cool. “You must be so proud.”

He parked the limo on the far side of the entrance, near the private elevators for the high rollers, then turned back to look at her as if she were something he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. “I am. But then, I never said I wanted out.”

The valet opened the back door. She shot a look at Nick. “You bastard.” She got out, blasted by the furnacelike heat of desert sun. The hotel was busy, as always. Taxis waited like schoolchildren to be called into service by the costumed bellmen. Limos stretched long and private in their own lanes. The glass doors leading inside were huge and thick, double doors meant to keep the real world firmly outside.

Nick walked to her side, holding her overnight bag. She hadn’t brought much with her. Makeup, pictures, vitamins. Everything else would be provided for, down to her bra and panties. Oh, God, she couldn’t do it.

She had to. Patrick was up there, scared to death, wanting his mommy. They’d never been apart this long. She had to see him—now.

“Come on,” Nick said, his hand on the small of her back.

The contact made her shiver as it always had. Her foolish body didn’t know any better, but it would learn. She stepped forward quickly, breaking the contact. She wanted nothing to do with him.

He led her inside to the atrium, twenty stories high, capped by a blanket of mirrors and hanging crystal in a flash of glitter. The sound of the casino was muted here. In fact, one of the conditions for having slots in this hotel was that there were no bells and whistles. People threw away their money quietly in Xanadu.

They walked past gardens, gazebos, pergolas lush with foliage. It took a staff of more than a hundred people to maintain the gardens in Xanadu, and in all the time she’d spent here she’d never once seen a brown leaf.

The smell of the place brought back too much. Of course, there were no unpleasant odors. The air, along with everything else, was strictly controlled, manipulated. There were no clocks anywhere, the sky inside was always blue in the perpetual daylight. There was no breach of the fantasy where any guest might catch an inadvertent glimpse.

She looked up as they crossed to the private elevators, built slightly behind the public facilities, and saw the hundreds of smoky-glass domes in the ceiling and along the walls. Domes that hid security cameras. No hotel was more carefully monitored. The security staff outnumbered the garden staff.

Nick called for an elevator. Once they were inside, he slipped a key into the slot that would allow them passage to the upper floors, to the suites for the whales and Todd’s enclave. It felt like forever to climb the forty-one stories. All she could think of was holding Patrick. Keeping him safe.

When they finally reached the penthouse, Nick walked with her down the hallway, her boots sinking into the thick pile of the burgundy carpet. The theme continued even here in the lofty heights, with Chinese and Mongol influences in the wall sconces, the paintings and the wallpaper. She’d been awed the first time Todd had brought her here. No detail left unattended, everything had a beauty and a serenity meant to soothe and to comfort. It didn’t work on her. All she could think about was the fact that she’d need a key to get into any of the elevators on this floor. A key he’d never give her.

They stopped at the double doors to Todd’s suite. It was, of course, the most extravagant room in the hotel. More than fifteen-thousand square feet, it was larger than a lot of the motels on the side streets of the city and more decadent than a rock star’s dreams.

Nick knocked and the door opened. A butler she didn’t recognize bowed slightly, took her bag from Nick, then led them into the dragon’s lair.

Marble floors, glass walls, Picassos, Renoirs, antiques; there wasn’t an inch of the suite that wasn’t detailed and designed to be the best of the best. Six bedrooms, twelve baths, a private swimming pool, spa, massage room, grand piano, private dining room and kitchen. It made her physically ill.

But she kept her expression neutral as they neared the master bedroom. He was going to test her—punish her. It would be horrible, but she could take it. She had to take it.

Patrick.

At the door, the butler knocked, then she heard Todd’s voice. She gripped her purse, stood straight, focused. Feeling Nick beside her should have been a comfort, damn it.

The butler led them inside, and then she saw him. Patrick. Sitting on the lap of the man who would own her. Todd’s hair, thick and shockingly white, was immaculate, as was the suit on his tall, muscular frame. A devilishly handsome man, he hid his wickedness behind hypnotically beautiful blue eyes.

“Mommy!”

She tore her gaze from Todd and hurried forward, her anxiety to hold her child stronger than any fear. Patrick squirmed, trying to escape. When he couldn’t, he cried, screamed, his panic loud and shrill in the cavernous room.

She reached the bedside chair where Todd held her son. Just as she was about to fall to her knees and beg, Patrick escaped. He leaped into her arms where she hugged him tight, her tears falling unheeded, his tears fueling her hatred drop by drop.

She looked up briefly, long enough to see that Todd was watching her intently, so she turned. But then she could see Nick. Was that shock in his face? Surprise? Had he really not known that Todd had kidnapped her baby?

Their baby?