Grace stiffened.
She should just get the announcement over with, she thought. She wasn't going to change her mind about the divorce and time wasn't going to alter her mother's reaction.
"Mummy, I need to talk to you about something."
A familiar male voice interrupted her. "Mrs. Hall, how are you?”
"Jackson Walker!" Her mother exclaimed, accepting a kiss on her cheek. "I was hoping you would come over. How are you?"
"I'm well." Jack smiled and his regal face looked less austere.
"How is Blair?"
"Perfect in every way."
Grace heard her mother laugh and let the conversation fade away. She looked over at Smith. He was drinking coffee while his eyes were fixed in her direction.
"Did you hear that, Grace? "
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Jack and Blair will come over Columbus Day weekend, as well."
"That's wonderful."
Grace offered an enthusiastic smile to her old friend but, as she looked into his eyes, she knew she hadn't fooled him. When he turned to go, he rested a hand on her shoulder. Leaning in to kiss her cheek, he whispered, "Call me if you want to talk, okay?"
She nodded, placing her hand over his. "Thank you."
Jack strode out of the room, waving to a few of the other diners as he left.
"Such a lovely gentleman, that Jackson," her mother said. "You know, if you hadn't found Ranulf, he was the one I'd hoped you'd marry. The Walkers are an excellent family and he is such a success."
"Yes, he is."
Her mother glanced over at a grandfather clock. "It's late. I must go."
As they were walking to the cloakroom, her mother said, "You were about to say something?"
"It was nothing, Mummy. Nothing at all."
chapter
10
Eddie let out a whoop of joy as Smith tossed his leftovers into the front seat. " Bonus! So what am I eating? Lobster Newburg? Filet mignon?"
They were waiting while Grace and her mother said good-bye in front of the club.
"I think it's spaghetti."
Eddie craned around. "Let me get this straight. You go into a place like that and you order freakin' spaghetti?"
"I didn't order it." Grace's face was showing strain as she smiled and nodded. He was amazed that her mother didn't pick up on it.
"What do you mean you didn't order it? Did a fairy just wave a wand and it appeared ?"
"Don't know about the fairy but it was delivered by an evil little henchman."
Eddie laughed. 'I'm not going to go there."
"Wise of you."
After her mother had been swallowed into a black Town Car, Grace came over to the SUV and Smith opened the door for her. While Eddie pulled away from the curb, Smith glanced across the seat. She looked like she'd been pulled through a wringer but she wasn't asking for pity. There were no heaving sighs of exhaustion, no emotional tirades about whatever was wrong with her mother.
Just quiet forbearance. Delicate strength.
Funny, he'd never thought the two words could be used together.
"Rough meal?" he said.
She leaned her head back against the seat and glanced at him sideways. Her eyelids were half closed. "It could have been worse."
She turned away.
They'd gone about three blocks when Smith said sharply to Eddie, "I think we're being tailed. Pull over."
Grace's head snapped up as the Explorer halted. A white car passed them.
"That looks like the sedan that tailed me to my father's funeral," she said.
"Follow it," Smith told Eddie.
The Explorer shot back into traffic. Smith did his best to get the license plate but taxis and other cars kept getting in the way. As they approached an intersection, he thought they were going to get lucky. The light was turning orange and only one car separated them from their prey.
But with an abrupt burst of speed, the sedan raced through the light and dodged down an alley. Eddie gunned the engine to shoot around the vehicle in front of them but a taxi blocked their way at the last moment. Smith watched the taillights of the sedan get smaller and then disappear.
"You get anything, Eddie?"
"Nah, I was too busying trying to get close to the damn thing."
Smith glanced over at Grace. "Take us home."
"Sure, Boss."
After they drew up in front of her building, Smith got out and helped Grace from the car. When she was standing close beside him, he reached into the back and pulled out the duffel bag and metal briefcases that Eddie had picked up from his hotel.
"Thanks for getting my stuff," he said to his friend. j
"No problem. And the doorman accepted the grocery delivery twenty minutes ago. Told me he'd leave it in the hall. What time do you need me tomorrow?”
"Seven-thirty."
"Right-oh."
And then, despite the fact that she looked like she was ready to fall over, Grace leaned into the car and smiled at Eddie. "When you heat up the pasta, do it over a stove if you can. High heat and move it around a lot. That way, the vegetables will stay crisper. I think you'll like the flavor. The head chef comes from Tuscany. Goodnight, Eddie."
Smith glanced at his friend. The man was wearing a bemused expression, having been thoroughly charmed.
" 'Night, Eddie," he said wryly.
"Yeah, Boss," the man said distractedly as he pulled away.
On the way up the building, Smith asked, "How'd you know what I had for dinner? "
"You aren't the only observant one."
When they reached her apartment, Grace's hands were shaking as she tried to unlock the door. It took her several attempts before she let them in. As she reached down for one of the grocery bags he told her to not worry about it.
"Then I'm going to go to bed," she said as he deactivated the alarm and shuttled the food inside.
He followed her down the hall, dropped his bag and the briefcases next to the bed he'd slept in the night before, and kept going into her bedroom. When she looked at him curiously, He told her he was just checking the rooms.
After doing a quick pass through the master suite, he checked the rest of the penthouse, unpacked the groceries, and went to his own room. He was taking off his leather jacket when he heard the sound of water rushing from down the hall.
As he tossed his coat over a chair, Smith imagined her stripped free of that black dress with her hair down around her shoulders. The locks would end just over the tips of her breasts and he'd have to gently push them aside to kiss her skin. He pictured the blond waves covering his chest and falling onto his face as they made love.
He heard the water fall silent.
All he had to do was go down that hall, he thought. Walk into her room and take her into his arms. Because he had a feeling, even though she'd agreed with his strict hands-off policy, she'd get carried away by the passion again.
One kiss and he would have her.
As blood pounded through his body, Smith stopped moving.
What the hell was he doing?
He shook his head.
What the hell was he doing?
Moving with deliberate motions, he took off his holster and slid his gun out. He stared at the black metal as the grip welcomed his palm and his fingers. The weapon had been handmade for him, to his precise specifications, and there were two more identical to it in the Kevlar briefcases.
The familiar weight of his gun was comforting.
His preoccupation with Grace was not.
He remembered that man at the Congress Club, the one in the suit who had kissed her on the cheek and made her smile. Smith hadn't thought much of it at me time but now his aggressive reaction to the guy struck him as way out of line. He was behaving like a jealous lover of hers.