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  If Chance screwed this up with Gwen, Will would make him pay.

  Chapter Nine

  Chance jumped out of the taxi and tossed his cash to the driver. He yanked up his collar and a soft plume of chilled air appeared above his mouth as he stared up at the gleaming lights of the hotel. Just blocks from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Gwen had chosen one of the swankest hotels in the city.

  And one with top-notch security.

  He headed for the entrance. Two doormen were there, their assessing gazes sweeping over him as he walked inside. Once in the lobby, he spied the security guard near the elevator. Chance glimpsed another guard watching near the check-in desk.

  “You got here faster than I thought,” Dev murmured as he strolled to Chance’s side. “Someone was hauling ass, huh?”

  Yeah, he had been. “Did Gwen see you tailing her?”

  Dev stroked his chin. “Let’s see…before she boarded the elevator—the one that only takes you up to concierge level if you have the special key card for access—she did turn in my direction and flip me the bird.”

  Chance’s brows rose. His lips twitched.

  “So, yes, I’d say it’s safe to assume that Gwen caught sight of me.”

  Chance ran a hand through his hair. “Did you get her room number?”

  “1608. I figured you’d be requesting room 1610…the one right beside her.”

  Damn straight, he would be.

  “I didn’t see anyone else tailing us to the hotel. So either the guy is good, really good, or the APB that Faith put out on the van has him in hiding for the moment. I’ll stick around though,” Dev said, “and keep my eyes peeled. Extra protection can’t hurt, right?”

  No, it sure couldn’t. Chance slapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

  Dev nodded. Then he tilted his head to the side as he studied Chance. “Lies can fucking destroy, man. Take it from me…with my screwed up past, I know full well the damage they can do.”

  “I’m not going to mislead Gwen.” Not anymore. His gut was knotted now—he needed to see Gwen.

  “Good.” Dev’s voice hardened. “Because I like her. And I like you. So I’d hate to have to kick your ass, but if you make that woman cry again, I just might do it. I hate the sight of a woman’s tears. Nothing worse in the world.” Then he turned away, whistled, and headed for the leather chairs near the crackling fire place.

  ***

  “Seriously…what in the hell were you thinking?” Sophie Sarantos demanded as she marched into the interrogation room. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shooting sparks, and her high heels tapped frantically on the floor. “I’m your lawyer. I told you to be quiet, I told you—”

  “I didn’t talk to the cops,” Ethan said wearily. The handcuff was still around his wrist and annoying the shit out of him. “I talked to Gwen.”

  Sophie sat down her leather bag. “Gwen?” Her eyes slammed shut. “Not Gwen Hawthorne…not the woman you’re accused of stalking.”

  “Right. That woman. I told you that I needed to see Gwen.” He’d asked Sophie again and again to get him access to Gwen. “She had to know that I wasn’t the one trying to hurt her! She needed to know—”

  “You had secret cameras placed in her house!” Sophie’s eyes flew open. Then her stare flooded with horror and she glanced toward the one-way mirror. “Doesn’t matter, they can’t use anything I say.” Her shoulders straightened. Sophie was a petite woman, barely skirting five feet two inches, and she normally wore three inch heels to give herself extra height. “What matters is what you say. That’s why, for the love of God, just keep your mouth shut.” Her heels clicked against the floor. “I am busting ass and pulling every string I have so that you don’t spend tonight in general lock-up.”

  His laughter was rough. “Like I can’t handle that. Soph, you…of all people…know what it was like growing up.” Because Sophie Sarantos wasn’t just his lawyer. She was his friend. They’d been friends since they were kids. Growing up in the wrong part of town, desperately fighting to survive.

  Sophie’s hands flattened on the table and she leaned forward. Her voice dropped as she said, “I owe you. More than I’ll ever be able to repay.”

  Ethan shook his head.

  “You paid for my college. For law school. You—”

  “You’re one of the few friends I actually have, Sophie. One of the only ones who didn’t believe I’d hurt Jena.” And she was the one who’d helped him to get Marjorie out of the country. “You’ve repaid me a million times over.”

  And that money he’d used to fund her education? Those days…it hadn’t come from any respectable business dealings. He’d skirted the law when he was younger, and, sometimes, it was hard to shake his past, no matter how hard he tried.

  “I am your friend,” she whispered back to him. “So let me do my job and let me help you, okay? No more conversations with Gwen Hawthorne. No more talking with the cops or anyone…just me. This is a serious mess, Ethan. Whoever is stalking Gwen, hell, he’s made a life out of ruining you.”

  Ruining my chance at happiness. He frowned. “The thing is…I never had a chance with her. I knew it, deep down. Knew she was hung up on Chance Valentine.”

  Sympathy flashed across Sophie’s face. “Ethan…”

  “I have to figure out who’s doing this. You were there back then, Soph, you knew Jena. Were there lovers before me? Anyone who wouldn’t let her go?”

  She sighed. “She was always so hooked up on you…until the end. I can still remember how upset she was after that last fight with you…when she swore you were cheating on her. That you’d been seen with another woman.”

  “I never cheated on her.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t fucking me.”

  But…maybe someone had wanted Jena to think he’d betrayed her. The same person who’d killed Jena?

  Sophie picked up her bag once more. “Try to keep it together, okay? I’ve got my firm’s investigator looking for clues, for any evidence that we can use. Just stay calm until I come back.”

  Easier said than fucking done.

  The door closed behind her. He turned his head. Stared into the mirror. Saw his pale face, his wild eyes.

  Calm wasn’t exactly a concept for him right then. He stood, as far as the handcuff would let him…and he drove his left fist into that mirror.

  The door immediately flew open. Sophie stared at him with horrified eyes. “That’s not staying calm!” Then she rushed forward. “Shit, you’re bleeding.” Her voice rose as she yelled, “We need some help in here!”

  But he just stared into the fractured mirror. Stared at himself…

  He wasn’t the monster, no matter what Gwen thought.

  ***

  Chance stood in front of room 1608. He lifted his hand and knocked. He knew that Gwen would be able to see him through the peephole and she—

  “Go away, Chance!” He heard her yell through the door.

  Right. She’d definitely seen him. He flattened his hand against the door. “Please, Gwen, we need to talk.”

  Silence. Then the distinct sounds of locks being turned. The door slowly opened and Gwen stood there, eyeing him suspiciously. “Did you just say the word ‘please’ to me?”

  His head inclined toward her. “It is in my vocabulary.”

  “I don’t remember hearing it before.” Her slight body blocked the doorway. His gaze slid over her and lingered on her red toenails. Her feet were bare—and so damn cute.

  “I can say please…” His eyes lifted to her face. “I can also say that I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t budge. “Are you?”

  “Sorrier than I can fucking say.”

  Her eyes glinted. “Maybe you should try.”

  He’d try anything. “I didn’t take the job because of your father. I didn’t care about his money. I care about you.”

  “I don’t want lies—”

  He touched her. He had to. Chance wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “I’m not lying to you. When Wil
l told me that you might be in danger, all I wanted to do was get close to you. I had been thinking about you, dreaming about you, every single night. And even if Will hadn’t come to my office, you can bet…I would have come to you. Because I couldn’t stay away any longer.” His right hand rose and curled under the delicate line of her jaw. “I missed you.”

  She wasn’t speaking.

  Hell, he knew how important this moment was. He couldn’t afford a screw up with Gwen. She mattered too much. If she wanted him to beg, he would. Pride didn’t matter. She did.

  So tell her your secrets. Show her what she means to you.

  Gwen stepped back. “Come inside.”

  Yes!

  “I’m not forgiving you. I’m just saying that I don’t want to have this conversation in the middle of an open doorway.” She turned, giving him her back. “Especially if I’ve got some psycho on my tail—and it sure looks that way. So come in, lock the door, and say whatever it is that you need to say.” She paced toward the window. The curtains had been pulled back so the glittering lights of the city shone inside.

  He shut the door. Locked it. And tried to find the right words to give her…words that would convince Gwen that she truly was the woman he wanted. That her father’s money hadn’t swayed him.

  Never had. Never would.

  ***

  “You’ve got a rather dangerous client, don’t you, Ms. Sarantos?” Lex drawled as he watched the medical team take a cuffed Ethan Barclay down the hallway.

  Sophie Sarantos whirled toward him, her hands on her hips. “An accident. My client slipped while in interrogation. Obviously because he was kept too long without food and water and I will make sure the judge hears—”

  “Save it, Sophie,” Faith said as she followed the med team. “I was staring right through the mirror when your guy stood up and smashed the shit out of it.”

  Sophie’s slightly pointed chin notched into the air and her dark hair—hair nearly a perfect black—slid over her shoulders. “I expect my client to receive the best medical care!” Sophie said as she began to hurry after Faith. “I expect—”

  Lex stepped into her path. Her eyes—a shade of blue that shouldn’t be legal—narrowed on him. Wow…those blue eyes sure could ice fast. “A moment of your time…” he said. “That’s all I need.”

  “I don’t have time to give. My client needs—”

  “My name is Lex Jensen, and I work with Chance Valentine.”

  “Good for you.” She started to slide around him.

  He just stepped to the left, blocking her path. Lex smiled at her. Unfortunately, he’d been told that he didn’t have a particularly nice smile. “Gwen Hawthorne is our client.” He figured that was true enough.

  “Again, good for you…” She stepped to the right.

  So did he.

  Her scent—strawberries—rose to tease his nose. He’d always enjoyed the taste of strawberries.

  “Get out of my way,” Sophie ordered sharply.

  “Your client said he was trying to protect Gwen. I’m curious…do you believe that line?”

  “It’s not my job to believe my clients. My job is to provide them with the best defense possible.”

  Wrong answer. Well, technically, it was the answer a lawyer was probably supposed to give, but Lex had hoped for more.

  From her.

  “Guilty or innocent, I guess that doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

  She put her hands on his shoulders. The move totally caught him off-guard—as did the heat that seemed to streak through him at her touch. Then she leaned forward.

  Was she going to kiss him? What the hell? Not that he was complaining.

  She pushed up, well, as up as she could manage in those sexy shoes of hers and tried to peer over his shoulder.

  She wasn’t tall enough to make that work. Not even close.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and—lightly—pushed her right back down. “My sources tell me that you’ve known Ethan Barclay since the two of you were kids.”

  “Good sources. Now just get—”

  “Are the two of you lovers?”

  “What? No!”

  “Ever have been?”

  Her eyes became slits of absolute fury. “Get your hands off me.”

  He removed his hands.

  “You don’t know me, Mr. Jensen. You know nothing about me. So don’t dare to question me about my personal life. I am not a woman that you want for an enemy.”

  No, she wasn’t, but he also wasn’t backing down. “According to Ethan, someone has been stalking him for years. Hurting any woman that he really gets close to. But…then I take a step back and I look at things, and you know what I see?”

  “Am I supposed to care?”

  The woman had some serious fire. He liked it. “I see you…a constant in his life. A woman who has been there, time and again. Even if you aren’t lovers, I bet the guy cares about you.” Probably loves you. Even if that love wasn’t sexual. “So if someone out there really wanted to make sure that Ethan’s life was a living hell…wouldn’t that person go after you, too?”

  Her chin notched higher. “Are you trying to scare me? Because I don’t scare easily.”

  “No, I don’t imagine that you do…but it is curious, isn’t it?” He waited a beat. “Did you know his ex-fiancée? Jena? Did you—”

  “Jena Parker was my best friend. And, no I don’t believe that Ethan was responsible for her death. They’d fought, yes, but only because she believed he’d cheated on her. He hadn’t.” Her words were clipped. “And there is nothing else I have to say to you…unless…” Now one black eyebrow arched. “Unless you’re going to tell me that Gwen Hawthorne is dropping the charges against my client? In that case, I’ll talk to you all night long.”

  He shook his head.

  “Then get your ass out of my way.”

  He backed up a step.

  “Good.”

  “Sophie?” A man’s gruff voice called.

  Lex looked down the hallway. He saw the redheaded man who’d roughly greeted him and Chance when they went to Wicked. What had the guy’s name been? Something like—

  “I’m fine, Daniel,” Sophie said. “Just dealing with a jerk.”

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he stomped toward Lex. “He’s one of those pricks who set up Ethan. Knew he was trouble the minute I saw him at Wicked.”

  “And it’s a good thing you called me then,” she said, sending a hot glare Lex’s way. “Because we have to make sure that Ethan isn’t punished for something he didn’t do.”

  Lex laughed lightly, and he knew the sound was mocking. “Oh, I’m sure there’s plenty that guy needs to be punished for.”

  Her stare was definitely arctic. “You know nothing about him.” Then, softer, she added, “Or me.”

  I’d like to know plenty about you.

  But she was already striding past him. She leaned in close and started whispering to Daniel. Lex knew the guy was Ethan’s flunky. And the way the fellow was leaning in close to Sophie, well, it looked as if he took orders from her, too.

  She must be Ethan’s right hand.

  So why hasn’t she ever been targeted?

  She and Daniel slipped down the hallway. The tap of her high heels echoed. Lex watched her walk away, his mind spinning with possibilities. A woman who looked like her, a woman who had constant, intimate access to Ethan Barclay…the stalker should have gone after her.

  But he hadn’t.

  Why?

  Suspicion began to churn in his gut. Chance believed they were looking for a man, because a guy in a ski mask had been the one seen at Gwen’s apartment the first night. But…that guy had run to a van. To a van that someone else had been driving. The guy in the ski mask had leapt into the back of the vehicle while the driver raced away from the scene.

  Maybe the bastard in the ski mask was just the hired help.

  Maybe the real stalker was the one who’d been sitting, all nice and safe, in that driver’s seat.<
br />
  And maybe we’re not looking for a man after all. The attacks are all on women. Women who Ethan gets involved with. Maybe the stalker isn’t a man trying to hurt him…maybe it’s a jealous woman.

  Taking his time, he followed Sophie down the hallway.

  I’m not the kind of woman that you want for an enemy.

  Lex found himself very curious about just what sort of woman she was.

  The kind who would kill her best friend, if that friend was with the man Sophie wanted?

  He was going to find out.

  ***

  Gwen held her breath as she waited for Chance to speak. She probably should have slammed the door in his face, but when it came to Chance, she was weak.

  No…she was just in love.

  That had been her problem all along. She’d fallen for the guy. The lust, the physical desire had hit instantly. And the love had come later. Slowly, easily, and she hadn’t even realized that she was in trouble until it was too late.

  Then she’d looked up at him on Christmas Eve. Seen him standing there, all alone, and she’d just wanted to be with him.

  “I didn’t have much growing up,” Chance said.

  What? She shook her head. Why was he—

  “Actually, I didn’t have anything. My family grew up on a farm in Georgia, a farm that went broke when I was ten years old. My father drank himself to death after that and my mom…she didn’t live much longer after he passed.”

  Gwen took a step toward him. “Chance, I-I’m sorry.” Because she could feel his pain and she’d always hated for Chance to be in any sort of pain.

  “Cancer,” he murmured. And his gaze had turned distant, as if he were seeing the past. “She’d had some warning signs, but…hell, she and my dad were so focused on saving the farm, so she just kept putting off her doctor visits. No money, no time…and then when she finally went in…” His lips twisted into a sad smile. “There really was no time left by then. She lived for six months. I told her good-bye when I was sixteen.”

  She’d walked across the room. Gwen didn’t remember that. Hadn’t she just taken one step a moment before? She was almost touching him now and Gwen wanted—so badly—to wrap her arms around Chance and take away his pain.

  “I didn’t have any other family, so I wound up in foster care. That’s where I met Dev and Lex. Dev had big dreams, even back then. The guy could do anything with a computer. He got a scholarship, got the hell out of the system. Lex and I…we joined the military. Turned out I was pretty good at fighting.”