Sleep brought dreams.
Dreams of those few precious days she’d shared with James in New Orleans.
Dreams were all she would ever have of him.
But on this night, the dreams she longed for evaded her. She thrashed in her bed, slipping from one troubled nightmare to another.
And then, suddenly, she was wide awake, and a scream was rising in her throat.
There was a hand over her mouth, a man’s hand. Her eyes widened as she looked up into the face leaning over her.
It was James.
Her pulse began to race.
He smiled down at her in the moonlit dark. It was a smile that turned her blood to ice.
‘That’s right, baby,’ he whispered. ‘It’s me.’ His smile fled. ‘And if you value your life, you won’t make a sound.’
Gabrielle stared at him, stunned. How had he got into her room? For that matter, how had he got into the house? It should have been impossible to gain access to the Vitale compound. Electronic devices controlled the gate and there were dogs, too, huge Rottweilers that were kept kenneled during the day and given the run of the place after dark.
‘Get up—and be quick about it,’ he snapped as he slid back the wardrobe doors that lined one wall and pulled something from the rack. “Put this on.”
The sable coat Vitale had bought her slithered towards her across the silk sheets. She sat up and stuffed her arms into the sleeves of the coat. She hated the fur, not just because it was too warm for a June night but because she hated the thought of all the small creatures who had died for it.
But she did as James ordered, then stuffed her feet into the high-heeled silk slippers that had been Vitale’s idea, while her mind raced. What was happening?
‘James. What…?’
He grasped her elbow and hurried her across the room. ‘Just keep moving,’ he whispered, pausing at the door. Her heart pounded as he cracked it open and peered into the hall. ‘All right. Not a sound now, Gabrielle, I’m warning you.’
The hall was dimly lit; shadows hung in the corners and over the wide oak staircase. Someone would hear them. Vitale’s men were everywhere in the house, and Big Tony himself slept only two doors away. They’d kill James if they found him here.
She pulled free of his hand. ‘Do you know what Vitale will do when he catches us?’ she whispered.
James’s teeth glinted in the dark. ‘If he catches us. Don’t worry, baby. You can always tell him I forced you to come with me. Now move.’
‘He’ll kill you,’ she hissed. ‘James, for the love of God…’
‘Move,’ he snarled.
‘James, I beg you…’
His arm slid around her waist and he pulled her against him. The heat of his body was like a furnace. She felt her skin blaze beneath the weight of the fur.
‘Listen to me.’ His lips were against her ear; the warmth of his breath seemed to enter her blood. ‘If you don’t do exactly as I tell you, I’ll wake this whole damned house. I’ll tell Tony you arranged this meeting, that you slipped me a key to the gate.’
‘Are you insane? He knows that’s impossible. I have no…’
‘Yes, I know. You have no wish to leave him or this place.’ His arm tightened around her. ‘But you’ll never convince Big Tony of that. Not after what he saw that night at the opera. I can still make you want me,’ he said hoarsely, ‘and Vitale knows it.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘Shall I prove it to you?’
His mouth dropped to hers, his kiss as hard as his words. Desire flashed through her. She sighed against his lips and suddenly, his kiss gentled.
‘James,’ she whispered brokenly, ‘oh God, James…’
His breath hissed between his teeth. ‘Damn you,’ he said. ‘I ought to leave you here.’
Tears filled her eyes as she looked into the face of the only man she would ever love.
The man whose life she held in her hands.
‘Yes,’ she said quickly, ‘leave me here, James. Please. No one will ever know.’
His mouth narrowed. ‘What a damned fool I was,’ he said.
‘You weren’t. You were never a fool. I—I—”
Gabrielle clamped her lips together. She couldn’t tell him the truth…
His arm curved around her waist and he pulled the door open. ‘OK. Here we go. Remember, not a sound.’
He hurried her through the silent house.
She waited for someone to stop them. Waited for alarms to go off when they went out the front door. But no one stopped them, no bells rang, no dogs raced toward them through the night.
Her heart began to race with excitement. The gate was just ahead. Even at a distance, she could see that it was open. She was free. Free! She was…
Who was she kidding? She could never be free. She had made a deal with Vitale and she would keep it. What was freedom compared to the knowledge that James was alive? It was the only thing that had kept her going these past months. If she stepped outside those gates, if she violated her part of the agreement…
She came to a stop. ‘I can’t. 1 can’t leave Vitale.’
James spun towards her and spat a curse that was like a knife-thrust to the heart.
‘Damn you,’ he said, and he swung her up into his arms.
‘Put me down. Please, James. Don’t take me away. Don’t!’
Struggling against him was useless. She felt helpless, just as she had the last night they’d been together.
She had been afraid then, but not as much as she was now. Then, she had feared for her own life.
Now, she feared for his.
There was a car waiting at the kerb. James set her down on the pavement while he opened the door, and then he pushed her into the passenger seat. Seconds later, the engine coughed and the car sped off into the night.
Ages seemed to pass until they pulled into a garage beneath an apartment building overlooking the East River.
James took her arm as he led her to a bank of lifts. His touch was impersonal; she knew he was only holding her to keep her from running, and she wanted to tell him not to bother, it was too late to flee, there was no way she could slip back into Vitale’s house now. Too much time had elapsed: they must know she was gone.
Why had James stolen her away? What had happened? Vitale’s rage would be all-consuming. She knew he’d want to kill James, but there had to be a way to calm him long enough to make him realise tha
t he would gain nothing by doing it.
He had her. He would always have her—so long as James was alive.
‘Inside.’
She looked up, blinking as she realised they’d left the lift and were standing before an open door. Lights came on as she stepped inside, and the door slammed shut behind her.
They were in James’s apartment. Gabrielle would have known that if she’d come here without him. His presence was everywhere, in the well-worn leather chairs that flanked a charcoal-grey couch, in the shelves filled with books, even in the gleaming hardwood floor that stretched to the wall of glass beyond.
The room was like him: big, masculine, without pretense.
James moved past her, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the couch.
‘Coffee or brandy?’ he asked.
‘Why did you bring me here?’
He looked at her, then turned to a cabinet built into one long wall. ‘Brandy,’ he said, taking down a pair of balloon goblets and a decanter filled with an amber liquid. He splashed somey into the goblets, then handed one to her. ‘Drink up.’
She raised the glass to her lips. The smell of the liquor was harsh, and she shook her head. ‘I don’t—’
‘Drink it.’ His voice was rough. ‘You need some colour in your cheeks.’
Her eyes met his, and the flat coldness of them made her shudder. She took an obedient swallow.
The brandy was strong. It exploded in her throat and she began to cough. James crossed the room to her.
‘Easy,’ he said, taking the glass from her hand and setting it down, ‘just take a deep breath.’ He tilled her face to his and looked at her. ‘Are you OK?’
Gabrielle nodded. ‘Yes.’
They stared at each other. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she thought suddenly of the dark bruise that had once lay there. Her gaze swept up his face to his cheek. The scar from the car accident was barely visible, a thin white line angling across the tanned skin.
James. James, my love.
Her breath caught and she looked away. ‘Yes,’ she said again, and she managed a smile, ‘I’m fine.’
James’s hand spread along her cheek. ‘You’re not,’ he said sharply. ‘You’ve lost weight.’ His fingers cupped her chin, lifting her face. ‘There are shadows beneath your eyes.’