“I already took a bath and you didn’t join me,” she reminded him.
“You didn’t invite me.”
“We were barely speaking. I didn’t think you wanted to be invited.”
“You thought wrong and the last time I checked, bathing doesn’t require speaking.”
She laughed. He kissed her, his tongue swooping past her lips with a soft caress she felt in every inch of her body. Too soon, his mouth was gone, his thumb lingering, sliding over her bottom lip. “It’s an open invitation, talking optional.” He left her wanting and wet, and headed to the bathroom. She wanted to follow, but she really had to call Dean.
The bathroom door shut and she climbed across the bed to lean against the headboard, dialing Dean’s number. He picked up in one ring, obviously waiting for her call, and offered her good news—Constantine’s testimony was a go.
“Excellent. He’s a strong witness. His brother and father were both in law enforcement.”
“I know,” Dean said. “I had him investigated.”
“That was fast,” she said, pleased to hear there were no skeletons in Constantine’s closet, but not surprised. He was pretty straightforward about who he was, the good and the bad.
“The FBI expected we’d want the information,” Dean commented. “They handed his file over on a silver platter. He not only looks good on paper, he has the defense shaking in their shoes.”
She frowned. “Exactly why Alvarez wants him dead.”
“And you, too,” he grimly added, his voice muffled by static on the line, probably from the storm. “Anything to delay the trial and come up with a loophole. Which brings me to some not-so-good news.”
“Which would be?”
“I talked to your—” More static.
“What? Talked to who?”
“I talked to your sister today. Your father wants her home and at work. She wanted to know how sure I was she should stay gone.”
Nicole sat up, her heart pounding like a drum against her chest. “You told her to stay away, right?”
“I did, but she is feeling pressured. Your father wants her at work. He assured her he has private security and that those security people have seen absolutely no signs of a threat. He says—”
“He has money to make. I know. Believe me, I know my father. Damn it!” She ran a hand through her hair. “Why is she so manipulated by him? Why does she want to be like him so badly? And why doesn’t he see how dangerous this is?” She had practically forgotten Dean. “Is she still in Hawaii?”
The phone cut in and out. “Did you hear me?” Dean asked. “She’s taking a flight home first thing in the morning.”
“I have to go.” She’d call him back later, to check on his wife. She dialed her sister’s cell. The call dropped, no signal.
Pushing to her feet, Nicole moved to the window and dialed again. Still, no signal. Why did her father do these things? Did he love and care about anyone? Sometimes his wallet seemed his only love. Truthfully, he wasn’t a nice person. He was about control. About career. There was a reason she didn’t include him in her life. But she knew her sister wanted him there. Just as she once had. He had a way of manipulating you and stealing your self-worth—making it exist based on his approval.
Giving up on getting a signal for the cell phone, she headed to the door. Maybe near the elevator she could get a signal. She hesitated and rushed into the bathroom, calling to Constantine through the shower curtain. “I’ll be right back. There’s an emergency at home and I can’t get cell reception.”
He yanked the shower curtain back. “No. Wait on me.”
“I can’t. I’ll be right back.”
She heard him curse, but she didn’t care. Her sister was all that mattered right then. She’d deal with his anger, if and when—she didn’t care. It wasn’t as if she were leaving the floor, or leaving without communicating. He’d understand when he heard it was about her sister. He had to understand.
***
THE HOTEL-ROOM DOOR closed about the time Constantine wrapped the tiny towel around his waist. Was she begging to get killed or what? It took him all of twenty seconds to find his gun and head for the door, having no qualms about leaving in a towel. The one second he hesitated could be the difference between life or death. But this was a hell of a way to stay under the radar.
After confirming the hall to be vacant, a small miracle considering how busy the hotel was, he flipped the lock around to keep the door from closing all the way. With long strides, he headed for the elevator, heart thundering in his chest, fear for her safety far more controlling than his professional standards should allow.
Rounding the corner, he found relief. Nicole was pacing, talking on the phone, a deep frown on her face. The minute she saw him, her eyes went wide, her gaze sweeping his half-naked body, spotting the gun in his hand. Her face went pale.