You Are Mine (32 page)

The crowd moved and surged, waitstaff circulating like a school of black fish in a glittering sea. Through the heaving mass of people, a tall, broadly built man could be seen surrounded by a crowd of important-looking business types. Fair hair, bland, handsome features creased in a smile.

She recognized him from the pictures on the net she'd poured over. Evelyn Fitzgerald.

“Yes,” Zac answered slowly. “That's him.”

As they watched, a man moved out of the crowd and approached Fitzgerald. A flunky of some type, Eva guessed. The flunky spoke to Fitzgerald for a couple of minutes then disappeared back into the crowd again.

Fitzgerald's head turned.

And Eva's heart climbed into her throat as he looked in her direction.

She was too far away to make out his features distinctly and surely that meant he couldn't see her either. Nevertheless, she felt his attention like a spear pinning her to the spot.

It lasted only a moment before he turned away to talk to someone else.

Warmth at her elbow, a firm pressure on her arm. The scent of home around her. “Looks like someone told him you're here,” Zac said softly in her ear. “I wonder if he wanted to be kept informed of your arrival?”

“H-He might.” Goddamn that stupid stutter. “It doesn't mean he recognizes me. I've never actually attended any functions before, so that could be reason enough for someone to tell him I'm here.”

“Or because he knows who you are anyway.”

“That's true.” She took a deep, slow breath. “Shall I go introduce myself, or shall I wait to see if he comes to me?”

“Let's take it to him.” Zac answered without hesitation. “No point dragging this out any longer than it needs to.”

His arm slid around her waist, his hand sitting on her hip, the warmth of his body up against hers. Letting her know he was there.

She wasn't used to leaning against people for support, but now she let herself, just for a moment. Absorbing his heat and his sheer physical strength. Taking a little bit of it for herself.

Then she said, “Come on, then. I'm ready.”

They moved into the crowds and even with Zac standing beside her, Eva found it almost too much. There were more people here than when she and Zac had come a few days ago and it was much noisier. Everyone was packed tighter, laughing and talking loudly above the civilized sound of the music.

It was like moving through a field of tall, exotic flowers planted too close together and looming over her. Suffocating her.

The crowd swirled. Someone brushed against her and she felt the fear turn over in her gut, mindless and blind.

God, she didn't want to hold onto Zac like a drowning woman clutching a life preserver. She wanted to be strong, to lift her chin and be able to walk through all these people without fear. Confront Fitzgerald while standing tall and proud.

But she knew if she let go of Zac's arm, she'd freeze. Or throw up. Or humiliate herself in some other way.

This was not how she wanted it to go.

“Miss King?” A man appeared suddenly out of the crowd, standing in front of them. He was smiling. “Mr. Fitzgerald would like to have a word with you in private if you're willing. He's very honored to have you join us this evening.”

A word in private?

She felt Zac tense beside her, but she didn't look at him. She knew he'd think it was a bad idea. Then again, she had to meet Fitzgerald sometime and perhaps this presented her with the opportunity they'd been looking for.

“Of course,” she said before she could change her mind. “I'd be happy to.”

The man's smile widened. He looked at Zac and then back at Eva. “If you'd like to follow me.” He turned and began to make his way through the partying crowds, heading for the gallery exit.

“I know,” she muttered as she and Zac began to follow. “It's not a good idea. But then we'll have him in private and that could be useful.”

“True,” Zac began, and then stopped abruptly as a young woman reeled back from the little group she was talking to and just about collapsed on top of him.

Eva heard him curse and let go of her, catching the falling woman in his arms before she could hit the floor. Instantly he was surrounded by her friends, all of them talking and exclaiming.

“Miss King.”

Eva, her heart thudding with foreboding, turned around.

The man she'd been following, Fitzgerald's flunkey, was at her elbow, still smiling. “If you could come with me, please?”

“But my friend—”

“He can catch up. Mr. Fitzgerald hasn't got much time, as I'm sure you'll appreciate.”

She swallowed, glancing back to where Zac was still on the floor bent over the fallen woman and now surrounded by a large crowd of people.

“Miss King?”

She didn't want to leave without him. Already she could feel the walls rushing in on her, the vast space above her head pressing down. The noise of the crowd and the crush of people threatening to drown her.

Broken little girl.

No. She was not. And if she couldn't do without him for even a couple of minutes, then she was in worse shape than she thought.

Determinedly, Eva turned away from Zac and started to follow the other man.

It wouldn't be for long. Zac would indeed catch up and everything would be fine.

She kept her gaze on the flunky's back, focused hard on it and not on the crowds pressing on her. Crushing her. Suffocating her.

Her heartbeat was loud in her head, her jaw tight with the effort it took to not give in and run and hide. Find somewhere safe to curl up.

Much to her relief, they soon left the gallery and the crowd behind, moving into a much quieter, echoing corridor. Which would have been fine if not for the fact that Zac still hadn't caught up with them.

“Can we stop, please?” she said after a moment, trying to make it sound like less of a hoarse question and more of an order. “My friend is still back in the main gallery and—”

“Miss King?” The voice was hard and icy. And then the massive shape of a tall man stepped out of the shadows of a nearby intersecting corridor. He was about the same height as Zac, with a scarred face and the coldest black eyes she'd ever seen.

Eva's heart froze in her chest, fear beginning to sink sharp claws into her.

“You need to come with me,” he said.

The flunkey had disappeared. There was only her and this terrifying, scarred man.

From somewhere she managed to dredge up her voice. “I want to wait for my—”

“Mr. Rutherford has been detained,” the man interrupted. “Mr. Fitzgerald wanted to see you alone.”

Mr. Rutherford. They knew who Zac was.

Run. Run now.

Eva clutched her purse, dug her fingers into it. The beads were sharp, and the slight pain helped focus her. No, she was not going to run. She couldn't. She had to confirm Fitzgerald was the man who'd taken her. And she had to do this for the others who were counting on her.

She had to do this for Zac, who believed she was strong.

“Okay,” she said, pleased that her voice didn't shake. “Lead on.”

There was no expression at all on the man's face as he turned and began to walk back down the smaller corridor. He didn't even glance behind to see if she'd followed.

Perhaps he didn't need to. Perhaps he knew she wouldn't run.

She didn't know whether that was significant or not, and pretty soon, she'd ceased to worry about it. Because she had more important things to be concerned about.

The man led her down a few more corridors, turning a few times, screwing with her sense of direction, which had always been fairly shitty, so she soon lost track of where they were. She couldn't hear the noise of the party. She couldn't hear anything but the beating of her own heart, racing with the fear that was growing and growing with every second that passed.

There were pictures on the walls, statues here and there. The lighting was dim, the corridors echoing with the sounds of her footsteps.

He could kill you right here and no one would know. No one would care.

Eva kept her gaze fixed on the back of the man in front of her again, ignored the stupid thoughts that went around in her head.

She could do this. She could.

Eventually the man led her around a corner and into a small gallery hung with black-and-white photos.

Standing in the middle with his back to them, apparently staring at one of the pictures, was Fitzgerald's tall figure.

The scarred man said nothing, but Fitzgerald must have heard them approach.

He was silent a long moment, contemplating the picture on front of him. Then he slowly turned around.

Eva waited for recognition to hit, but there was none. He looked like his pictures, handsome and smiling in a beautifully tailored tux. Blue-eyed and unthreatening despite his height and broad build. A friendly, charming older man, the kind who could have been a well-loved teacher, a respected family doctor, the father of a best friend.

And then he spoke. “Good evening, Miss King.”

And Eva fell into the dark.

*   *   *

It took Zac five minutes to extricate himself from the crowd of concerned people all clustered around the woman he'd saved from falling into a heap on the floor.

He'd thought at first she was drunk, but then was assured by her friends that she suffered from low blood pressure and often experienced fainting fits. These didn't last long and once she'd sat down for a couple of minutes, she was usually fine.

Irritated by the fact the woman had the temerity to faint on him, he finally got away from her attentive and grateful friends to discover that Eva had disappeared.

Completely.

Somewhere in him something howled like a wolf, clawing at him to smash through these crowds to find her.

But he didn't allow himself to give into the feeling. He was a soldier. Fear and panic were not permitted.

Instead he stood still for a long moment, assessing the crowd, gauging it. Scanning around to see if he could spot the glitter of her gown.

Then he spotted the flunkey who had approached them earlier, coming out of one of the doorways that led to the other museum galleries and then disappearing in the crowd.

Zac debated for a second whether to go after him, then discarded the idea. Going after the man and interrogating him would take up precious time. Quicker to just go through the door the man had exited from.

Slipping into soldier mode, he headed straight for the doorway, reaching into the inner pocket of his tux where he'd put his weapon. He had no reason to take it out since he had no reason to believe that Eva was in danger. But that didn't stop him.

Eva wasn't here. Which meant she was alone somewhere. Alone with Fitzgerald.

Christ, why hadn't she waited for him? She'd either thought she could do this herself or someone had taken her.

Another thought occurred to him.

Perhaps the woman and the fainting had been intentional. Staged in order to get Eva by herself.

Zac's hand tightened on his Glock.

If Fitzgerald touched her, Zac would kill him. No, fuck that. Fitzgerald was going to die anyway.

It would only be sooner rather than later.

*   *   *

There was no mistaking that voice. Smooth yet cold. The sound of her nightmares.

Eva would have known that voice anywhere.

She felt cold. So cold she might as well have been carved out of ice. She couldn't take her eyes from his face. His pleasant features, the smile that curved his mouth. A rich, powerful man. A pillar of his community.

A drug dealer. A pimp. A murderer. A rapist.

“It's good of you to come tonight,” Fitzgerald said affably. “Though I confess, I'm surprised. I didn't think you got out much.”

She couldn't speak. Fuck, where was her voice? It was frozen solid, just like everything else about her.

He tilted his head a little, studying her. It made her skin crawl. “It's probably a bit of a shock, isn't it? I suppose it has been … what? Seven years?” He smiled, though it didn't reach those icy blue eyes. “I keep forgetting you didn't know who I was.”

He confessed it so easily. Like it was nothing.

Say something you fool.

“Why?” was the only thing that came out. A sad, broken little sound. A sad, broken little question.

Fitzgerald's eyes widened momentarily. “Why what? Why did I take you? Why did I keep you? Stupid questions, Miss King. I took you and kept you because I could. It's that simple.”

She'd begun to shake, her vision tunneling. No. Fuck, no. She wasn't going to faint. She was stronger than that, hadn't Zac shown her how?

He can't touch you ever again.

Eva tried to slow her breathing, tried to stop herself from shaking apart at the seams. “No,” she forced out. “I mean why did you want to speak to me?”

“Tonight?” Fitzgerald lifted a shoulder. “I was curious to see what brought you out of your little mouse hole. And I suspect, given the investigations that you and your guard dog have been conducting, that it was to confirm my identity as your abductor, am I right?”

He knew. Holy Christ, he knew.

Her expression of shock must have been plain on her face because he gave a soft laugh. “What? You think I wasn't aware exactly of what your little group have been doing? Poking their noses into my private business affairs?” The amusement vanished as quickly as it had come. “Of course I know. Just like I know all about you, Miss King. About how you stay in that little apartment of yours and never go out. Unless of course, Mr. Rutherford is with you. How you manage to run your little company I have no idea.”

Fear turned over and over inside her, wild and blind. While a distant part of her stood back and merely nodded. Because of course he knew all about her. A man like him would.