Finding Grace Page 22

  Women were giving Grace the up-and-down and turning up their noses, but their male companions weren’t. He smirked when he saw one guy get a swift kick from a pointy shoe under the table. Served the asshole right for ogling Dagger’s woman.

  When their waiter appeared and stuttered twice trying to recite the specials, Dagger was about ready to give it up and leave. But Grace turned on that smile of hers and coaxed him with questions about the menu. Joe was more than happy to chime in, educating Grace on the finer points of escargot and steak tartare.

  So Dagger, lulled into what he realized too late had been a false sense of security, almost choked on the ridiculously expensive mineral water he was sipping when he heard Grace order a scotch.

  “Would you like that neat, ma’am?”

  “That’s without ice, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Sounds neat.”

  He could have sworn he heard her giggle before the waiter hurried off. What the hell was going on?

  “Grace, did I miss something? Since when do you drink? You told me alcohol rots your brain.”

  “While that happens to be true, Jack, I may have overestimated the importance of brain cells. Besides, tonight appears to be an exceptionally opportune time to learn how to drink.”

  She had him there.

  “Okay, but scotch? Why not beer, or wine?” Dagger wasn’t exactly sure why it bothered him.

  “I admit, Jack, that I do enjoy the taste of secondhand beer, but both beer and wine seem…I don’t know…inefficient to me. Besides, scotch smells so good.”

  “And just where have you smelled scotch?” Dagger’s eyes narrowed. He never touched the stuff; he was a sour mash man himself.

  “Farley was drinking it that night at O’Leary’s.”

  “That’s it.” Dagger slammed his fist down and the whole place got quiet again. With great effort, he lowered his voice. “I should have finished off that bastard the last time I had my hands around his throat.”

  When the waiter returned with Grace’s scotch, Dagger watched her take her first sip. “Well?”

  She swallowed and took another sip. “Mmm. It’s kind of a weird contrast of hot and sexy mixed with marshes and icy winds. Makes me want to make love with you in a big castle on a soft rug in front of a roaring fire during a storm.” She smiled and he forgot to breathe. “But that’s just me.”

  The image she conjured and the smile she’d delivered it with turned his brain to mush. He finally managed to rasp, “…just you and me…” After swallowing a few times, he said, “That could be arranged. Planes leave for places like that every day.”

  Grace blushed prettily and her silver eyelashes glistened in the candlelight. It was with a jolt delivered by a none-too-subtle cough that he remembered Joe even existed, much less at the table with them.

  “So, Joe, what kind of law do you practice?”

  Again, Grace’s simple charm rescued the moment and Joe yammered on about his firm and high-end clients. Dagger took the opportunity to surreptitiously stroke Grace’s thigh in the silky leotard and wonder how soon he could get her home and into his bed.

  But he’d promised her music, so after dessert and the scotch Joe ordered for her, he suggested a club hosting a band they both liked.

  “Really? I’ve always wanted to see them.” She bounced in her seat before her excited smile turned skeptical. “Not that I’ve ever been there, of course, but I don’t think suits are exactly de rigueur for that establishment, are they, Jack?”

  “Not the last time I was there.” He shrugged. “But what the hell. The place is a little rough, yeah, but the stage is nice and the sound is good. It’ll be fun.”

  * * * *

  The club was busy for a weeknight. Even though it was still early, the band was popular so there wasn’t anywhere to sit. Which meant that Grace was standing, and as such, on display. God, she looked good and Dagger sure as hell wasn’t the only one who noticed. Joe brought them their first round of drinks, though it was the look Dagger drilled the bartender with that made it happen. He’d seen the way the guy had looked Joe over and how long he’d been waiting to get served.

  It didn’t bother him. He’d rather Grace took a break from drinking anyway. She didn’t seem to be feeling the effects, which did bother him. Whiskey was generally an honest drink, not as likely to sneak up on you as most, but Grace’s brain didn’t work like other people’s. What if it hit her all at once?

  She took a few sips before asking him where she might find the ladies’ room and excusing herself.

  Dagger turned to his brother. Joe wasn’t as comfortable in the place as he pretended to be. They’d both shed their jackets and ties. Dagger had rolled up his shirt sleeves because it was warm, but he knew Joe had done it to try to fit in.

  “Well?” He understood why he wanted Joe to approve of Grace, why it was important to him. He didn’t like it, but there it was.

  “She’s very pretty, Jack. Sure is turning a lot of heads. Hot little body too, great muscle tone. But platinum bleach blondes aren’t really my type. She, ah, sure seems to be holding her liquor for someone who supposedly doesn’t drink, never mind the whiskey voice. And, God, that mouth on her. The fact that she can turn it off only makes me wonder more. Jack, please tell me you’re not really serious about this girl.”

  Dagger shook his head. Was his brother really that blind? Everyone who knew her could tell how special Grace was. Even dumber-than-dirt Mills had figured it out.

  “Fuck you, Joe. She doesn’t dye her hair. You don’t know her—any more than you know me.”

  Joe snorted. “Hey, you wanted my honest opinion, right? So I gave it to you. And if I don’t know you any more, it’s not because I haven’t tried. Even with that badass look, you are still my little brother, and I don’t want to see you fuck up your life with that cheap, vulgar little skank.”

  Only the sound of Grace’s soft shriek stopped Dagger’s fist. He’d been so intent on the conversation with his brother that he hadn’t been watching for her. Some big asshole at the end of the bar had his arm around her waist and was pulling her toward him. The next moment, his head snapped back and his arm released her to grab his nose, which was now bleeding copiously.

  Dagger was at her side in an instant. “Are you all right, Grace? Did he hurt you?”

  “No, Jack, he just wouldn’t let me go. You know I can’t handle that. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen.” Grace was flexing her left hand and shaking it.

  “Crazy bitch,” the man mumbled, “I oughta…”

  “You. Ought. To. What?” Dagger pronounced the words slowly and took a step closer.

  The man blinked furiously. When his eyes came into focus, he looked Dagger up and down and said, “I ought to call it a night and go home.”

  “Good. Now anyone else feel the suicidal need to touch her?” He looked around. No one met his eyes and only mumbles met his ears.

  Dagger put his arm around her and they walked back to Joe.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I’d blame the clothes, but third time in a bar and third time trouble. It has to be me, right? Sorry about that Joe.”

  “No big deal. I kind of enjoy watching my kid brother in action. Not that you needed him. Your buddies weren’t kidding, you handle yourself like a pro.” Joe clinked his glass to hers.

  The way he said it bugged Dagger, but he was more worried about Grace. She sipped her drink nonstop until it was empty.

  “I know you’d probably like to leave, but I’ve never danced to live music before and I was hoping…Well, the band is warming up. Please? Just this once?” She was practically bouncing again.

  “Dance? Grace…” Her face started to fall and he couldn’t stand it. “Okay, sure, a couple of songs. But then we’re going home, to my place.”

  “You want me to go to your place? But, Jack—”

  Joe handed her another scotch and Dagger snarled, not caring for the way his brother was pouring scotch down her throat
, or for the interruption—just when he had a feeling Grace was ready to tell him what was bothering her.

  A loud chord sounded and she downed the drink in three swallows.

  When the song started, her body began to move with the beat of the bass guitar and for the first time in his life, Dagger actually wanted to dance.

  Then he looked in her eyes and saw all that booze hit her like a sledgehammer.

  While he was working out what to do about it, Joe said, “What’s the matter, bro? Never learned how to dance? Not to worry, I’ll take her off your hands.” He thumped Dagger on the back and his eyes traveled slowly over Grace, smiling all the while. Before Dagger could put a stop to that with a right hook, Joe grabbed her hand and said, “C’mon, baby, let’s have some fun.”

  He lost them to the crowd until they made it to the dance floor.

  Grace was flowing more than dancing, her moves were so smooth. Joe looked like a frog in a blender, but no one was watching him anyway. By the time she started doing those slow cartwheels, they were the only two left on the dance floor and everyone else was standing around clapping and whistling, including his brother.

  It wasn’t that she looked indecent, really—what with the full leotard and all. But she was so sexy. Joe naturally thought she was dancing for him, for all of them. He couldn’t see that she was dancing for herself.

  Dagger parted the crowd and stepped up to catch her when she went into another backbend. He was standing there holding her when her eyes flew open and she squealed.

  “It’s time to go home, Grace. You’ve had enough fun tonight.” He had to yell over the music for her to hear it.

  The crowd was booing and Joe was laughing, but Dagger only noticed the way Grace pulled away from him and struggled. Not quite knowing what to do, he set her back on her feet.

  “Goddamnit, Jack, you don’t have to take care of me. None of it was your fault. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t want your fucking pity.” She was shaking, weaving a bit to stay on her feet, but Dagger doubted she’d let him steady her.

  “I know. That’s not what I’m offering.” He said it quietly, but there was a sudden lull in the music and it carried.

  “Well what the fuck do you want from me, Jack? What!” Everyone in the place heard it because the band had stopped playing and she was yelling.

  There was only one real answer to that question. He reached in his pocket and held the ring out to her. “I want you to be my wife, Grace.”

  She gasped and reached out for his shoulder, finally letting him put his arm around her. “Marry you? I thought you were going to dump me.”

  Where the hell had she come up with that? “It’s not exactly how I intended to ask, but what’ll it be, Grace? Will you have me?”

  There was a tinkling of ice in a glass somewhere, but that was the only sound in the room. Dagger thought everyone in the place was holding their breath. Or maybe it was just him.

  “Oh God yes, Jack, I’ll have you.”

  She let him pick her up again, let him put the ring on her finger, let him kiss her.

  The applause was thunderous.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Feeling better, Grace?” Dagger refilled her water glass. “That was a lot of scotch for someone who doesn’t drink.”

  Joe rolled his eyes. Dagger glared at him.

  “How do you know I just don’t enjoy being carried, Jack?” She flashed him a smile. “But really, it’s just shock.” She looked down at the ring on her finger.

  Dagger didn’t think she’d taken her eyes off it the entire ride home. “Do you like it? I’ve been carrying it around in my pocket for almost a week.”

  “I’m such an idiot, Jack. I had no idea. It’s beautiful. I love the shape, I’ve never seen one like it. It is awfully big, though. I mean, this chunk of ice could have sunk The Titanic. Right, Joe?”

  He could almost hear Joe’s thoughts on the subject. If Grace had been offended by any of his looks or snide remarks, she hadn’t let on. Dagger was going to have a talk with him—tomorrow. It only took one look at Grace in all that silky hot pink, black leather, and lace to remind him he had something else to do right now.

  Maybe she’d read his mind, because right then she said, “Say, fiancé, why don’t you carry me to your bedroom? I want to see if it sparkles in the dark.” She wiggled the ring and grinned.

  After he scooped her up, she waved to Joe. “Sweet dreams.”

  * * * *

  The bed was high and oversized. Thorne felt small and self-conscious lying alone in it. Light from the parking lot was coming in through the windows, even at night. Too much light.

  It occurred to her that Jack would probably want to live here after they were married. The scotch may have relaxed her some, but it also chased her mind in circles, dragging her stomach behind it in queasy rolls. One particularly unpleasant thought made the rounds tenaciously, unpleasant and tenacious being common companions on the tracks of her anxiety, even without the scotch. How many other women had lain in this bed, waiting for Jack to come back from the bathroom?

  She was still thinking about it when he slipped into bed beside her, all warm hands and hard, tempting body. So—and the scotch probably had something to do with it too—she asked him.

  “What? No. You’re the first woman I’ve ever had in this bed.” His lips started making little nips just below her ear while his hands wandered with slow purpose.

  Unfortunately and stupidly—but predictably—tenacious and unpleasant hadn’t run out of fuel just yet. “So you just stayed at their place, like you stay at mine?”

  “I never stayed. Period.” His lips stopped nibbling, his hands stopped moving. “Where is all this coming from, Grace?”

  The close cousin of the former tenacious and unpleasant thought raced in to fill the vacancy, again leaking past her lips.

  “I was just thinking…Are you sure you want me in your bed for the rest of your life? I thought men didn’t like that idea. Won’t you get bored?”

  “Bored?” Was he laughing? “Not hardly. Jesus, Grace, I love the idea of having you in my bed every night for the rest of my life. But what about you? Is all this because you’re thinking you might want to kiss some more frogs, maybe find a prince?” He wasn’t laughing anymore. Just waiting.

  “No, Jack. I got lucky. The first one I kissed was a prince.”

  She heard the quick intake of his breath and knew he understood the full truth of what she’d said. After that, there were no more thoughts, tenacious or otherwise. There was only need and pleasure, desire and satisfaction.

  * * * *

  Dagger inhaled slowly, his thoughts tumbling, his lips finding hers in the dark, his hands caressing that exotically smooth skin, following all of the curves and hollows of her body. She’d given him her first kiss. Those sick bastards hadn’t been able to take that. No, that had to be given. And Grace had chosen him. He didn’t understand why that thought suddenly made him so hungry for her, so desperate to please her, to hear her moan his name, but it did. And pretty soon, she did. She paid him back for it, though, made him beg, made him swear, made him roar.

  * * * *

  Like Jack, the sun was still sleeping when Thorne got out of bed and showered. She found a robe in his closet, folded the sleeves over several times, slipped it on, and went to the kitchen to get something cold to drink so she could chase down the aspirin she’d found in the bathroom medicine cabinet.

  She jumped. “Joe. I didn’t see you. I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

  He shrugged and checked his watch. “I’m an early riser and it’s already eight o’clock in New York.” His eyes narrowed and sharpened in intensity. “How ’bout you, Grace Thorne? What’s your story? Where’d you get those skills you were using on my poor little brother last night?” He snickered.

  Thorne felt her face redden. Shit, Joe had heard them. She’d forgotten all about him being in the next room. It was too early and she didn’t feel good. She was stuck on the word�
��“‘Skills’?”

  “Nice blush. Damn, you are good. I didn’t even know those could be faked. Not like—”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joe.”

  “Oh yes you do, baby. Just because you can hide it from Jack and the boys, doesn’t mean you can hide it from me.”

  Tenacious returned from its nap with a vengeance and unpleasant slithered eagerly into ugly. The voices whispered and Thorne felt herself sinking and whirling, like she was being sucked down a big drain. She could hear it when the breath left her body.

  “What are you really asking me, Joe? Not that it matters what I say anyway, does it? You’ve already made up your mind. The only thing you can’t decide is whether you’re more sick about what Jack must have paid for this ring or that he’s going to marry a cheap, vulgar skank. But the important question, Joe, the one you need to ask yourself, is this: Are you asking because you love him, or because you need to feel high and mighty?”

  She raised her hand to silence whatever retort he was about to make. “There is a question you can answer for me, though. Something I need to know before I marry Jack, because I really do love him. If you do, you’ll help me. You’re smaller than Jack, in many ways, and nothing like him. But you do have his eyes, Joe.”

  She turned her back to him. This was going to be difficult, and possibly painful, but she had to know.

  “Listen, baby, I don’t know what kind of game you’re running here, but I can just about—”

  “Shh. You’re about to see something Jack never has.” That shut him up. “Are you ready, Joe?”

  Thorne carefully let the robe slide down her arms, offering him a good look at her shoulders and back, but no more. She knew he’d seen enough when he choked out an oath. With a jerk and a tug the robe was back in place. Then she grasped his chin in one hand and looked hard into his eyes. What she saw filled her own with tears. Painful didn’t even come close, because what she saw in Joe’s eyes was only a reflection of what could be. And what could never be.