Forbidden

11

“I HOPE VICTOR doesn’t penalize for tardiness,” Paige murmured wryly as she and Josh made their way along the tiled walkway leading back to the mansion. The sur was setting behind them, spreading a glorious array of fiery colors across the sky. Carranza’s big house loomed in front of them, foreboding and imposing, causing are uneasy shiver to race through her.

“We’re fashionably late,” Josh stated, giving the hand tucked in his a squeeze. “And considering Carranza’s ‘amenities’ are at fault, I’m sure he won’t hold us accountable.”

Her skin flushed at his blatant reminder of how they’d spent the afternoon-how they’d made good use of those condoms stashed in the nightstand. Her face warmed even more when she realized the undercover officers planted around the estate were privy to their intimate conversation, via the wireless listening devices they wore.

After making love the first time, Josh had pulled her into his arms and ordered her to rest. Safe in his embrace, she’d dozed off, only to wake an hour later to his hands caressing her breasts and his warm, damp breath on her neck. Instinctively, her body came alive for him and she turned toward the heat he generated, her legs automatically parting for him to slide in between. He loved her in more ways then she could ever have imagined, each time taking her higher, satisfying a hunger that had been building for years.

They’d showered together, scrubbing each other’s backs, chests, bellies, thighs, and other tender, sensitive areas. The water steamed, Josh’s hands glided over slick skin, and his mouth and tongue started the feverish need again. This time was desperate and a little rough as he took her against the tiled shower wall, his hips pumping repeatedly, frantically, as she arched to meet his deep thrusts. His mouth was just as bruising, marking her in the most primitive sense. His eyes glowed hotly, and his hands gripped her buttocks, pushing, pulling, establishing a relentless sensual slide that elicited those strong, feminine contractions from the depths of her womb. And then he came, head thrown back, eyes closed, a low, ragged groan ripping from his chest.

Satiated, he’d slid to his knees, taking her with him so she straddled his hips and their bodies remained joined. The water beat down on his back, drizzling over them like rain. They kissed and touched, loath to separate. Finally, the water grew chilled, forcing them to face the inevitable.

They dressed, she in a long black velvet gown that left her shoulders bare to display the dazzling Ivanov necklace, and Josh in the tuxedo he’d rented for the weekend. He’d secured his revolver beneath his pant leg at his ankle, then silently tended to Paige’s means of self-defense. Slipping his hand into the sexy slit of her dress that reached to just above the knee, he strapped a small holster around her thigh to hold her derringer. His fingers had lingered, stroking her skin, as if one last touch would sustain him for the rest of his life.

“Carranza is expecting so many people, I’m sure we can slip in unnoticed,” Josh said as they neared the elegant mansion.

His deep, reassuring voice dissolved the intimate thoughts flitting through Paige’s mind. She nodded, her gaze on Carranza’s sprawling manor, her throat too tight to speak. Lights glittered from the windows and lilting music drifted out the second-story balcony doors. Her stomach churned with apprehension and she wished the awful sensation away. She had to remain calm and focused-emotional strength would carry her through this ordeal. She realized that this man by her side gave her that courage.

About ten yards away from the back entrance to the mansion, Josh stopped and abruptly pulled her into his arms, kissing her one last time. She returned the embrace, uncaring who witnessed the exchange. His heart beat rapidly beneath the palm she pressed to his chest, matching the cadence of her own pulse.

He lifted his mouth and stared down at her, his eyes soft and infinitely tender. Warm fingers traced the outline of the Ivanov necklace to where it formed a V near her cleavage. She’d worn her hair up, and a slight breeze tickled the fine hairs at the back of her neck.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured.

She managed a smile and brushed back a lock of dark hair that had fallen over his brow. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He cocked his head and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

Drawing a deep fortifying breath, she nodded and looped her hand through his forearm. He led the way inside, following the stream of people heading up a spiral staircase to the second level of the mansion, a section of which was filled with round tables draped in fine linen, and set with gleaming silver and gold-rimmed china. A huge parquet dance floor dominated the other half of the ballroom.

The place was overflowing with men in black tuxedos and custom-made suits, and women dressed in elegant gowns and fabulous glittering jewels. Paige’s necklace was by far the most stunning, the diamonds and emeralds winking under the light the crystal chandelier cast off. Men nodded as she and Josh mingled, and women stared, their gazes moving from the Ivanov piece to her face, then on to Josh, where their smiles turned decidedly friendly. Josh smiled back, though the possessive way he touched her made it more than clear that his interest was captured solely by her.

Paige felt like a fraud in this elite gathering, and very uncomfortable. The necklace hung like a hundred pound weight around her throat, and she tried not to think about the compact gun pressed so snugly against her thigh.

Jacketed waiters passed with trays of champagne and appetizers, making brief eye contact with Josh and leaving Paige to wonder if they were Metro-Dade officers. Josh retrieved two crystal goblets of the fizzing liquid and handed one to her, for appearances’ sake, she assumed. Not daring to taste any more than a few drops on her tongue, she pretended to sip the bubbling drink. She wanted nothing to cloud her judgment or reflexes.

A five-piece band played jazz music, laughter filled the room, and Paige struggled to keep at bay the anxiety creeping over her. She wanted this confrontation over and done with, but knew Carranza would pursue the necklace in his own time. She couldn’t imagine how he would confiscate the Ivanov piece with so many people around to witness an exchange. According to Reynolds’s plan, she wasn’t to take the necklace off, but had been instructed to bait him so he’d be forced to resort to extreme measures that would put him in a position to be prosecuted.

“Ah, there you are, Paige.” Carranza’s smooth voice drifted from behind them. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Paige’s heart leapt. Lifting her lips in a semblance of a smile, she and Josh turned to find Victor and a shorter man with a severely receding hairline standing beside him. Both were dressed in black tuxedos, and Paige decided the sinister color suited them.

Carranza’s gaze touched on the necklace, then traveled up to meet her eyes. “I take it your headache is gone?”

“Yes, I feel much better.” Most likely, if he’d bugged the room, he knew exactly how she and Josh had spent the afternoon-living up to the pretense of lovers. His congenial expression, however, didn’t give away a thing.

“Good.” Picking up her hand, he patted it affectionately. Her skin crawled, and she resisted the urge to jerk her fingers from his. “It would be a shame if you didn’t enjoy the evening because you weren’t feeling well.” Releasing her hand, he inclined his head toward Josh. “Mr. Bennett, are you enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.” Josh saluted Carranza with his glass of champagne and smiled indulgently. “The amenities are outstanding.”

If their performance hadn’t been so crucial, Paige would have elbowed Josh in the ribs for that remark.

Carranza stared at Josh for a long moment, and though he smiled, there was a sudden dark glint in his eyes that made Paige nervous. Then he turned toward the older man beside him. “Paige, I’d like you to meet Alfred, my personal appraiser. Alfred, this is Paige Montgomery, proprietress of the Wild Rose, the boutique I expressed an interest in for Bridget.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Alfred shook her hand, then Josh’s, his beady gaze drawn to the diamonds and emeralds draped over her throat. “The necklace is exquisite,” he agreed, a dark brow rising. “I can see why Bridget wants it for herself.”

“She’s been pouting ever since she saw it in a portrait Paige has hanging in her boutique.” A waiter passed with a tray of appetizers, which they all declined. Carranza glanced back at Paige. “Would you mind if Alfred has a closer look at your necklace?”

She smiled sweetly and lightly touched the jewels. “I’d rather not take it off.”

Carranza didn’t look pleased by her refusal, but quickly covered up his irritation and offered an alternate suggestion. “Very well, he can give it a quick appraisal while you’re wearing it.”

His audacity shouldn’t have surprised her, and as much as she wanted to deny his request so she didn’t have to endure his appraiser groping the necklace and her neck, she had no justifiable reason to do so.

Alfred lifted a jeweler’s loupe to his eye, and took hold of the diamond and emeralds to inspect them. Paige stiffened as his cold fingers brushed her skin, and tried desperately not to shudder in revulsion. Josh stood beside her, looking appropriately bored.

Finally, Alfred released the necklace and stepped back, giving Carranza a slight nod. “It’s a very fine piece,” he declared.

A satisfied smile touched Victor’s mouth. His narrowed gaze scanned the crowd of people, and finding Bridget holding court amongst a cluster of men, he motioned for her. She glided toward them, her sleek body wrapped in a black sheath that displayed every curve.

She nodded to Paige, gave Josh a sultry once-over, then glanced up at Carranza.

Victor smiled at her. “Pussycat, are you sure this is the necklace you want?”

She eyed the diamonds and emeralds, her full lips pursing petulantly. “I’m sure. Whatever it costs, I want this original, not a duplication.”

“Very well.” Carranza released a long-suffering sigh, then glanced back at Paige. “Perhaps later this evening we can discuss a fair price for the necklace?”

Paige laughed lightly, a chuckle that sounded strained to her own ears, and forced the reply Josh had rehearsed with her. “Actually, I’ve had other inquiries about the necklace. I heard it was part of the Ivanov collection and I’m not sure I want to part with it.” She caressed the smooth jewels and smiled. “After all, it does have a certain sentimental value attached to it.”

A muscle in Carranza’s jaw twitched, and something dark and dangerous glittered in his eyes. “I hope you’ll reconsider.”

She gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe it would be best for Bridget to find another emerald-and-diamond necklace that is more…attainable.”

Bridget’s gaze sparked with a flash of fury that sent a touch of fear skittering along Paige’s spine. Carranza, too, looked none too happy with her unwillingness to give them what they wanted. Obviously, they hadn’t planned on her not cooperating.

To Paige’s immense relief, dinner was announced, interrupting the tense moment. Obviously displeased, Carranza excused himself, and flanked by Bridget and Alfred, headed toward the dining area.

“Well, he’s certainly been baited,” Paige commented, leaning close to Josh as they wended their way to the table they’d been assigned to.

He pulled out a chair for her to sit. “We’ll see what happens,” he murmured, then took the seat next to her.

They spent the next hour dining on a fabulous fivecourse meal. Josh ate his dinner with gusto, but Paige pushed her food around on her plate, knowing her churning stomach would never be able to digest any of the rich entrées. Instead, she nibbled on her bread and consumed three glasses of water, hoping that bland diet would settle her anxiety. They conversed politely with the couples seated at their table, but Paige remembered little of what they’d discussed.

After dinner, she and Josh danced, mingled and went out onto the balcony for fresh air, all the while waiting and wondering what Carranza had planned next. Though they’d spoken at intervals during the party, Carranza had made no more mention of his interest in the Ivanov necklace. He was again pleasant and charming. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he’d accepted her refusal to sell him the piece.

The night wore on. People gradually retired for the evening, and Paige grew weary, too. She hated to think that all the preparation for this weekend would be for nothing-she also didn’t want to leave Miami with Carranza still on the loose, and Josh in the midst of the danger surrounding the case.

Out on the dance floor, Josh held her securely as they moved to a slow ballad, along with several other couples still enjoying the evening’s festivities. With every shift of her body against Josh’s, she became increasingly aware of the uncomfortable pressure low in her belly-nature had been calling for the past two hours.

“Josh, I really have to go to the ladies’ room,” she said, more urgently than the other two times she’d made the same request.

He frowned, the hand resting at the base of her spine tightening perceptively. “Can’t you hold it a little while longer?”

If the situation hadn’t become so dire, she would have laughed. “No,” she groaned, her frustration coming through in the tone of her voice. “Between the three glasses of water I drank during dinner and the soda I just finished, my bladder is going to explode if I don’t empty it. And soon.” Glancing around the ballroom, she found Carranza. “Victor and Bridget are busy talking to that group of people. You keep an eye on them, and I’ll be back in less than two minutes,” she suggested, knowing how odd it would look for Josh to accompany her to the rest room and stand guard.

Hesitant emotions entered his gaze. He clearly didn’t want her out of his sight, not even to take care of a necessity.

“Josh, I’m wired,” she reminded him in a low voice. “There’ll be two dozen men in that rest room with me.”

An amused smile kicked up the corner of his mouth. “You’re right,” he conceded, casting a glance toward the hired bartender. The man gave a barely discernible nod to indicate he’d heard them.

Reluctantly, Josh let her go, and she headed toward a hallway that took her out of Josh’s line of vision and led to a rest room. Thankfully, it was unoccupied. Locking the door behind her, she took care of business as quickly as possible. While washing her hands, she glimpsed her reflection. She looked pale and tired, though the Ivanov necklace sparkled with a life of its own. She wondered how something so beautiful and extraordinary could be the root of so much evil and greed.

Somebody tested the doorknob, pulling her out of her idle musings. She realized she’d taken at least five minutes instead of the two she’d promised Josh, and hat he was probably growing frantic with worry.

“I’ll be just a second,” she called to the person on the other side of the door as she tucked back a stray strand of hair that had escaped her chignon. She stifled a yawn and straightened her dress, thinking she and Josh ought to call it a night, since Carranza didn’t seem inclined to make a move for the necklace that evening.

With that thought on her weary mind, she exited the est room and collided with a solid wall of muscle that caused her to take a step back to steady herself. Startled, he glanced up, expecting Josh, but found herself starning at a middle-aged man with a deep, two-inch scar long his cheek. He was dressed in the requisite black, is long ebony hair pulled back and secured at the back of his neck with a thin leather strap.

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly realizing how quiet he hallway was, and that they were alone, just the two of them. “I should have been paying better attention to vhere I was going.” She attempted to step around him.

He blocked her path, large and immobile. Forebodng snaked along the surface of her skin and kicked up he adrenaline in her system. He smiled, the gesture as dark and evil as his black eyes. Full-fledged terror gripped her. Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to bolt, but he anticipated her intent.

He grasped her arm so brutally, she sucked in a sharp breath, cutting off the protest forming on her lips. Before she could recover from that painful assault, he forcefully guided her down the hallway, away from the ballroom.

“Make a sound and you’re dead,” he informed her his tone as feral as his threatening words.

SITTING AT their dinner table while he waited for Paige to return from the ladies’ room, Josh casually glanced a his watch for the seventh time in as many minutes.

He had a clear view of the corridor that led to the res room, and no one had entered or exited from that direction since Paige. Tension tightened the cords in his neck and bunched the muscles along his shoulders. Where another minute crept by with no sign of Paige, he grew even more restless, his eyes shifting from the hallway to Carranza and back again, his mind flipping through a multitude of scenarios-none of which were pleasant.

A young man Josh had seen with Carranza throughout the night approached Victor, and Josh watched as they exchanged words. Carranza’s expression took on a cold, calculating presence, and he nodded to his messenger. Excusing himself from the group he’d been visiting with, Carranza then exited the ballroom through the main entrance.

The fact that Carranza had departed in the opposite direction to where Paige had gone did little to reassure Josh. His gut twisted with an awful premonition. A discreet but urgent nod from the bartender confirmed his suspicions.

Something had happened to Paige, and she was in trouble.

Forcing a calm he was hard-pressed to maintain, Jost headed toward the brass-and-mahogany bar. He waited anxiously for the couple in front of him to order and receive their drinks, then leave to mingle. Once he was alone with the bartender, Josh stepped closer to the brass railing, careful not to make eye contact with the undercover officer on the opposite side of the bar. The other man kept busy as well, clearing the empty glasses a waiter had delivered.

“I’ll take a club soda,” Josh said, aware that Bridget was keeping an eye on him from across the room.

The bartender set a glass with ice on the pour pad and used a spigot to fill it with the carbonated liquid. “Study. West wing. First level.”

The officer’s words were low and clipped, but Josh latched on to each one, knowing that somehow, between the network of other undercover officers planted around the estate, and any information or clues Paige might have been able to utter while being abducted, they’d managed to determine her location.

This was it, he realized. The moment they’d planned for.

Josh didn’t know the layout of the mansion, could only go by the bartender’s brief, vague directions. He had to get to the first landing, but how? Bridget had moved to talk to a small gathering of people near the entrance of the ballroom and would no doubt waylay him should he attempt to leave. A glance toward the corridor leading to the rest room nixed the idea of finding the same back stairway Paige had taken with her own personal guide. Two burly men dressed in black stood near that hallway like obedient rottweilers.

Feeling trapped, frustrated, and trying not to think about the fear Paige was experiencing, Josh searched for an alternate escape, and found only one. Taking his drink, he moved around the room, keeping an eye on Bridget. When a guest temporarily diverted her attention, he slipped out onto the balcony, startling the two women who stood outside, taking in the cool evening air.

So much for disappearing unnoticed. Knowing his choices were limited, Josh nodded amicably at the pair, set his drink down on a glass-topped table, and climbed over the wrought-iron railing. One of the women gasped, while the other stared at him, both shocked at his behavior.

He grinned and winked, striving for a charm he was far from feeling. “If anybody should ask, you didn’t see me,” he said, hoping to buy himself time with their cooperation. Sliding down the railing, he gripped the ledge of the balcony, straightened his body, then dropped to the ground nearly ten feet below. Pain shot up his legs, but he gave it little thought-he hadn’t broken any bones and that was all he cared about.

Drawing his weapon and crouching low, he made his way to the back entrance of the manor and slipped inside. All was quiet; Carranza’s staff was upstairs, attending the party. Heading toward the west wing, he negotiated what seemed like a maze of hallways. He checked every room he passed, murmuring his location as he moved along so he’d have backup when he needed it. Time seemed to drag as he stealthily searched the lower level of the mansion, listening for sounds and voices behind closed doors. Sweat beaded his brow and his heart pumped frantically in his chest when each room turned up dark and empty.

Where in the hell was she?

WHERE IN THE HELL was he?

Paige swallowed the panic rising in her throat, desperate not to succumb to the blinding terror hovering just below the facade of calm she’d managed to maintain in Carranza’s and his thug’s presence.

With a firm push between her shoulder blades, the thug nudged her deeper into the study, toward the large marble-topped desk Carranza stood behind. The room smelled of leather, fine tobacco and money. The combination of odors made Paige’s stomach clench; the insidious glimmer in Carranza’s gaze made her entire body tremble.

She lifted her chin, refusing to cower. “I don’t appreciate being manhandled by the hired help.”

Carranza appeared amused. “If you hadn’t been so difficult about parting with the necklace, none of this would have been necessary.” Hands clasped behind his back, he circled the desk and slowly approached her. “I would have been happy to compensate you a few thousand dollars for the necklace, and we could have parted without any complications. Unfortunately, you’ve forced me to take a more drastic approach.”

She flinched when he reached out to unclasp the necklace, shuddered in revulsion when his fingers brushed along her neck. She thought about using the gun strapped to her thigh, but with Carranza in front of her and the thug behind her, she knew she was outnumbered and outmuscled.

So, she endured Carranza’s touch, grateful when he finally pulled his hands away from her body. His expression turned euphoric as he gazed at the diamonds and emeralds in his hand, his eyes taking on a glimmer of greedy excitement. Even his breathing changed as he stroked the glittering jewels, growing deep, eager, almost aroused.

She watched him walk back behind his desk, lift a painting from the wall, and open the safe behind it. Lifting a black velvet-lined tray from the vault, he placed it on his desk. Rubies, sapphires, diamonds and an assortment of other jewels sparkled in the light-a heal of treasures Paige suspected had been pilfered, just as the Ivanov necklace had been.

“Ahh, now my collection is complete,” he murmured ecstatically, more to himself than anybody else in the room.

She broke out in a cold sweat, shivering despite the warmth of the room. Where was Josh? she wondered desperately. She’d dropped as many clues as to her whereabouts as she possibly could without being obvious. Had something gone wrong?

Carranza glanced up at her, regret clouding the exuberant light in his eyes. “I really do apologize that things have to end this way, Mrs. Montgomery. But there’s something about you I don’t trust, just like that husband of yours.”

The reference to Anthony and his deception that had resulted in this entire mess pushed Paige to the brink of hysteria. Carranza wasn’t a stupid man-had he figured out that he’d been set up?

His gaze transferred to the thug behind her. “Get rid of her and Bennett,” he ordered ruthlessly. “And make it look like an accident.”

Surely her wireless microphone had transmitted that she thought deliriously. She prayed help came, and soon, before there was no one left to save!

The man behind her grabbed her upper arm, and she struggled to free herself of his punishing grip. With little effort, he twisted her arm behind her back, and she cried out as white-hot pain electrified the nerve endings along her arm and shoulders, momentarily paralyzing her. She arched to accommodate the pressure, but he seemed to take great pleasure in tormenting her. With the threat of her limb snapping, she was forced to comply when he shoved her forward, toward the study’s entrance.

The man opened the door, only to be greeted by Josh, who stood two feet away with his revolver aimed at the thug’s head.

Worry and relief flashed across Josh’s features, then were replaced by grim determination. “Let her go,” he ordered, his tone low and fierce.

Ignoring his command, the man tightened his hold md slowly backed into the study, keeping Paige positioned in front of him as a shield. Josh moved forward, following him, the barrel of his gun sighted and steady.

“How convenient of you to join us,” Carranza said insolently, capturing Josh’s attention and forcing him to choose between the lesser of two evils.

His gun automatically swung toward Carranza, who stood behind his desk, unflinching, and without a weapon to defend himself. “The party’s over, Carranza,” Josh said, positioning himself with his back to the wall. “Tell your man to let her go.”

Carranza lifted a brow and smiled. “I don’t think so.”

In that instant, the thug drew a pistol from his waistband, banded an arm around Paige’s waist and pointed the barrel at her temple.

A fearful whimper escaped her dry throat.

Josh whirled and trained his gun on the thug, his expression furious, though Paige could detect his frustration, too. The man behind her laughed menacingly, knowing full well he had Josh in a stalemate. Josh knew it, too.

Very calmly, Carranza said, “I suggest you put the gun down, or watch your lover die.”

“Josh, no,” she countered in a shaky whisper. If he surrendered his weapon, he would die, she knew. They were going to die regardless, according to Carranza’ plan.

He wavered, his jaw clenching. She suspected he was stalling for time, praying as she was for their backup to arrive.

“Do it now,” Carranza ordered impatiently.

Reluctantly, Josh slowly lowered his gun to the floor. Tears burned the back of Paige’s eyes when she realized that he was sacrificing his own life for hers.

If she didn’t do something, and fast, once he let go to his weapon, they were both going to end up dead. Hating what she was about to do, but knowing her option were limited, she deliberately stumbled to the side catching the thug behind her off guard. He swore and fought to support both of them so they didn’t completely lose their balance. Taking advantage of the distraction, she reached inside the slit in her dress grabbed the derringer from its holster and planted the barrel against the thug’s belly. Squeezing her eyes shut she pulled the trigger, moaning as the room exploded with sound. The man behind her automatically released her, sucking in a wheezing breath as he crumpled to the floor. The gun in his hand skittered across the carpet out of reach.

Josh recovered his gun, but Carranza had retrieved his own weapon from his desk drawer, and their barrels sighted each other at the exact same moment. Nei ther hesitated to squeeze the trigger.

Two gunshots reverberated in the study, the blast echoing like cannons. In horrible slow motion, Paige watched as Josh stumbled back, his eyes wide as has clutched his chest, a harsh moan of pain escaping him before he finally collapsed to the floor.

“Nooooo!” she screamed, dropping her own weapon to rush to his side as all hell seemed to break loose around her. Armed men flooded the room, barking orders and swarming the area. They could have been Carranza’s cohorts for all she cared-her only concern was with Josh and his injury.

On her hands and knees on the carpet, she pushed back his tuxedo jacket, moaning pitifully when she saw the dark, spreading stain of blood on his white shirt. His eyes were closed, his body limp, his expression lax-she feared the absolute worst.

She touched his cheek, willing him to live. “Damn you, Josh, don’t you dare leave me,” she said in a choked whisper as hot tears streamed down her face. “After everything we’ve been through, I won’t let you leave me!”