“There’s nothing between Mollie and me.”
Croc just laughed, and Jeremiah watched him saunter over to the revolving doors and walk out of the hotel without anyone giving him so much as a second glance.
Mollie stumbled onto the escalator with the hotel manager hovering behind her. She felt unsteady and vaguely embarrassed, but the nausea had abated. Her neck stung. It was like a nasty rope burn, one of those short, intense bursts of pain that would subside quickly, the worst probably over by morning. Or so she kept telling herself as she clung to the escalator rail.
The police were still up with hotel security, searching for clues. She didn’t expect they’d find anything useful. The thief had been quick, deft, clever, and daring. He wouldn’t leave a trail. She knew nothing about crime and criminals—mercifully, she thought—but what she knew about this crime and this criminal told her the police weren’t going to find him. Not tonight.
She gave an involuntary shudder. “Are you all right?” the manager asked, worried. His concern seemed genuine, not simply strategic.
“I’ll be fine, thanks.” She smiled, trying to encourage herself as much as him.
He held out a hand, ready to catch her if she passed out as the escalator came to the lobby and she slid off. She must look even worse than she felt. Neck bloody, face pale, dress askew. And she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Her eyelids were heavy, and even as she shivered and shook, she felt as if she could drop off to sleep. The aftermath of her ordeal, she knew. The excess of adrenaline, the drop in blood sugar, plain old nerves. Her entire system was out of whack.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home?” the manager asked. “I can have someone drive your own car back at the same time.”
Her own car. It wasn’t hers any more than the necklace or the dress. Or her “home.”
He’d made the same offer twice on the mezzanine. Mollie understood. He thought she was being needlessly, even recklessly, stubborn about driving herself back to Leonardo’s. Certainly she needed to reassert normalcy into her life, but she could do it tomorrow, after she’d had a chance to rest from her ordeal. But she wanted to do it now.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeremiah making his way across the lobby. If possible, he looked even more devastating, more darkly unpredictable than he had upstairs. It was the combination of elegance and irreverence, she decided, feeling giddy from champagne and adrenaline. He moved with such ease no matter where he was—or with whom. He wasn’t fazed by the Atwood and Tiernay crowd, and he’d seemed right in his element with a crime committed, a woman crumpled at his feet, police and security people swarming.
“I’m a friend,” he told the manager with unsurpassed gall. “I’ll drive Mollie home.”
The manager looked relieved. “Wonderful. Ms. Lavender, if there’s anything else I can do, please don’t hesitate. You can reach me anytime, night or day.”
She mumbled her thanks, and he retreated back up the escalator, leaving her alone with Jeremiah. “The hotel can send your car,” he said, taking charge.
“I’m fine. There’s no need for you to drive me home—”
“Mollie, you’re not getting behind a wheel.”
“I look worse than I feel.” She knew she was white-faced, her eyes sunken, her mascara smudged. With her low-cut dress, there was no hiding the marks on her neck. Why couldn’t the thief have stolen her handbag? She could feel rage roaring to the surface, but banked it back down.
“This isn’t about you, it’s about me and everyone else who doesn’t want you on the road right now. Indulge us.”
“You just want to grill me about the thief,” she said, not willing to give in no matter how much she knew he and the manager both made sense.
“Believe whatever you need to believe. It just doesn’t make sense to drive, not when there’s an alternative.”
“I know,” she said reluctantly. “But I’ll be back up to snuff in the morning.”
“Of course you will.”
She shot him a look, but immediately saw he wasn’t being patronizing, just simply stating his belief. She’d be okay in the morning. She could drive, she could make her own decisions without the influence of adrenaline, a touch of alcohol, not enough food. To her surprise, Jeremiah’s quiet confidence helped ease some of the tension that still had her in its grip.