Black Jack (13 page)

The purse matched the red high heels she wore with well-creased silk slacks and a light

cotton blouse. The shoulder-length dark red hair was brushed back from her face, her bangs

skimming her brows.

She was classy and stylish. Pretty much exactly what Travis would have imagined a

successful madam looked like.

“I’m leaving.” She moved around Rhia carefully as she stared at the doorway Santos and

Travis still stood in front of.

“They just wanted to see you, Lilly,” Travis told her quietly. “You’ve worked with Santos

and Rhiannon for over five years now. You’re friends as well as associates.”

“So Desmond’s file says,” she retorted sarcastically, as Travis sighed and stepped back

from the door.

“Running won’t help, Lilly,” he told her softly, though he hoped she could read the message

in his eyes to do just that. To run. To get the hell out of there before her past rose up and bit

them both in the ass.

“I’m not running,” she informed him sharply, fear and anger showing in her eyes now.

“And I’m not frightened. I’m simply refusing to be a part of this.”

She edged around the room, watching them all carefully, her fingers still searching

instinctively at her thigh for that weapon. He was damned glad she didn’t have it; he had a

feeling she would have shot them all.

“Lilly, you’re running,” Rhia said softly, her gaze never losing that innate compassion as

she watched the woman she had helped train for so many years. “Surely you remember

something about us.”

“There’s nothing to remember,” Lilly snarled. “There are only the lies you had some

investigator make up. What do you think you can do? Do you think you can blackmail me or

my family?” Her nose lifted with aristocratic pride. “Trust me, lady, no one would ever

believe Lady Victoria Harrington was little more than a whore. You’re wasting your time.”

“I believe I’m insulted,” Santos drawled as she moved past him, watching him warily. “My

girls have never been called such a thing.”

The glare Lilly shot him should have withered him. Instead, with steady Irish charm Santos

tossed her a wicked grin before extending his hand to the door. “We wanted only to say hello,

my dear, and to let you know if you need us, we’re here.”

“I rather doubt I’ll need you.” The look she shot Travis assured him she wouldn’t be

needing him either.

She had passed the test. She knew who they were only through the report her uncle had

given her. She hadn’t recognized them, she hadn’t remembered her past.

She slipped from the room. The sound of her heels clicking on the marble floor could be

heard just before the front door slammed closed.

Travis turned to Rhiannon, his brow arching.

Rhiannon stared back at him, her brilliant green eyes eerie, too aware, too knowing.

“She’s hiding something, Travis.” Her gaze hardened. “Find out what.”

lilly stepped back
into the house, smiling at the butler as

he opened the door for her. The brightly lit marble foyer was warm and welcoming, but there

was a core of ice forming inside her that she couldn’t seem to dispel.

Moving quickly through the foyer, she pushed through the doors to the library, intending to

confront Desmond with the information he had given her the night before. She hadn’t

expected him to have company.

“Victoria.” Desmond came to his feet, a worried smile on his face. Lilly smiled when she

saw who was behind him.

“Jordan,” She said, coming forward and hugging him.

Jordan returned the hug. “I wanted to stop in to see you while I was in town. It’s a miracle

that you’ve returned.”

“So my family tells me.” She stepped back and restrained the need to rub at the chill in her

arms.

“Your uncle mentioned you may have a bit of a past that could cause you some problems,”

Jordan stated, as Desmond went over to the bar. “I wondered if I could be of help.”

“Did he now?” She glanced at her uncle, noting the heavy breath he took as he lifted a

bottle of wine from the bar. She was within seconds of asking for something stronger, only to

quell the urge as she noticed Jordan’s gaze sharpening on her.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Jordan urged her. “Grief does amazing things to a young mind.

Desmond is fairly certain you must have walked in on something that night, perhaps even saw

your father’s murder. He’s concerned that you could be targeted because of that, or because of

the information the investigator uncovered.”

Lilly took a seat in the chair beside her, watching as the two men settled back into their

seats before speaking.

“What, then, is the general consensus?” she asked. “Did I become a whore because I was

grieving, or running from criminals or my own guilt?”

“Dammit, Victoria, no one believes you killed your father,” Desmond bit out. “Quite to the

contrary, I believe you were hiding, perhaps even frightened of endangering your mother.”

Lilly sipped at her wine. “I’ve asked you before, Uncle, to call me Lilly.”

Desmond grimaced but said nothing.

“The fact remains that no one would believe such a tale,” Jordan stated quietly.

Do you want to live, Lady Victoria, or die forever? Jordan’s voice. Jordan’s face. Younger,

less savage. The memory flashed through her head, sticking to her mind, and almost had her

shaking her head as she tried to dispel it.

Memory or insanity?

“It’s much easier to believe I was a whore, then?” she asked, her brow arching curiously.

Jordan’s head lowered as her uncle looked away.

“Gentlemen, I have things to do today.” Lilly got to her feet. She was finished with the

conversation. “If you will excuse me, I believe I’ll take care of those things.”

She turned and swept from the library, ignoring her uncle’s protest as she pushed the doors

open and headed for the stairwell.

What did she have to do today except read that damned file again? That and try to

understand why Travis hadn’t warned her of the “company” arriving earlier.

Who could she trust? She had wanted to trust Travis so badly she ached with the need.

No one, her mind screamed. There was no one she could trust, and that was terrifying. She

felt as though there was no place to turn, and no place to find answers.

“Lilly.” Her mother stepped from the living room as Lilly was turning to the foyer and

headed for the stairs. “Could we talk for a moment?”

Lilly pushed her fingers through her hair and fought to restrain the impatience roiling

through her. “Is my room all right, Mother?”

The living room seemed too open, with too many potential ears listening.

“Of course, dear.”

Lilly could see the nervousness in her mother’s face, the hint of sorrow and pain that

shadowed her eyes. She hated hurting her mother, but there was a part of herself that she

couldn’t help but hold back. There were too many secrets that she sensed she had to hold in.

Entering her bedroom, she turned and waited for her mother to enter. Immediately Angelica

moved to the bedroom window, opened it, then pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from

the pocket of her slacks.

“Mother, you know you shouldn’t smoke,” she said, sighing.

“My one guilty pleasure,” she said as she lifted the slender cylinder to her lips and closed

her eyes in pleasure.

Lilly waited until she finished, knowing it would take only moments. When Angelica

finished she moved to the bathroom, flushed the butt, washed her hands, then returned.

“Your brother called this morning.” She smiled sadly. “He and the children are going to

Hawaii this summer.”

They usually joined the family in Maryland.

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Lilly guessed.

“So many changes.” Angelica sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Jared has never

dealt well with change. He brooded for months when we thought you were dead. He can’t

believe it’s you now, because the changes are so drastic, and there’s no explanation for them.”

Her mother stared at her as though she should have answers.

“I’m sorry, Mother.” Lilly sat in the chair next to her bed and watched her mother as she

ruffled her fingers through her perfectly streaked dark blond and brown hair.

“You read the report your uncle gave you, then?” she asked. “Did nothing trigger a

memory, Lilly? Nothing at all?” She was so hopeful, so desperate, that Lilly wanted nothing

more than to confide in her.

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

Angelica’s hands twisted restlessly in her lap as she stared down at them for long moments.

“You’ve changed so drastically,” she said softly as her head lifted, her pale blue eyes

reflecting a glimmer of pain and tears that tore at Lilly’s heart. “Sometimes, Lilly, it’s as

though I don’t even know you.”

Lilly swallowed tightly and forced back her own tears. “I’m still me. I don’t know what

happened, or why I changed so severely, but I’m still me. I remember shopping with you,

crying with you, my coming-out ball and my first date. You cried each time.” A tear slipped

free. “Just because my face changed doesn’t mean I’m not still your daughter.”

A soft sob tore from her mother’s lips then. She moved jerkily from the bed and in the next

second Lilly found herself in her arms. Arms that had sheltered her, that had helped protect

her.

In that moment, she closed her eyes and wanted to cry herself. She wanted her father. When

she had cried, they had both held her; the warmth and acceptance of their embrace had always

been all she needed to hold her world together.

Now, her world was torn apart, confusion and fear tore at her, had her holding tighter to her

mother and fighting the need to confide all those fears in her. She wanted the easy, carefree

relationship they had once had. She wanted the involved, complicated relationship she’d had

with her father. She’d been his confidante and his partner, she had been her mother’s friend,

her brother’s baby sister. Once upon a time, she’d had a full, happy life.

And she had no idea what had happened to it.

“You can talk to me, Lilly,” her mother whispered tearfully as she drew back, her soft

fingers easing the tears from Lilly’s cheeks. “I’ll always be here for you. I’ve always been

here for you.”

So why hadn’t she let her mother know she was alive? God, what had happened to her?

“I know that, Mother.” She had to fight back the need to confide, to tell her of the pieces of

memories she had, to plead for her help in figuring them out.

Yet she couldn’t. She couldn’t allow herself to do it.

“Promise, if you need to talk, you will come to me, baby,” her mother begged, another tear

slipping down her pale cheek. “Please don’t hide from me any longer. You’re breaking my

heart.”

“I promise, Mother,” she lied.

Lilly knew she couldn’t go to her mother with whatever her past entailed. But until she

knew what it entailed herself, then she wasn’t even certain how dangerous she was to her.

And there was simply no one left to run to.

But Black Jack.

She almost froze in her mother’s embrace.

Pulling back, she breathed in heavily. “I need to rest for a while, Mother. Perhaps a nap

would help this headache that’s brewing at the moment.”

She rubbed her temples as though there were truly a headache coming on.

“Of course.” Her mother kissed her cheek gently. “Rest, darling. I’ll have the maid call you

for dinner.”

Lilly watched as she left the room, her heart thundering, her mind churning. Black Jack.

She could trust Black Jack, she thought desperately. The urge to do just that was building in

her mind, beating at it.

Who was Black Jack?

Travis.

She could see him in her mind’s eye, as he stood with Santos Bahre and Rhiannon

McConnelly hours before in his home, a frown on his dark face. Green-flecked brown and

gold eyes had been filled with concern, and a warning.

That was it.

She rubbed at the back of her neck, frowning now as she let those moments roll through her

memories again. In Travis’s eyes there had been a warning. But why? What had he been

warning her of?

Santos Bahre and Rhiannon McConnelly. They were partners, according to the file she had,

in a very profitable business. That business included providing women to a very select

clientele. According to the investigator, the rates for the female companionship rose in

relation to the level of danger the companion would face.

Had she been a whore or a very good mercenary? What the fuck was going on?

A part of her was screaming that she should run to Travis, that she should talk to him,

confide in him.

Black Jack. It was a code name.

She fought to still the rapid beating of her heart, the fear that raced through her like a

locomotive tearing out of control. She felt her breathing constrict, felt the warning flashing in

her mind that she couldn’t trust Travis any more than she could trust Santos Bahre, Rhiannon

McConnelly, or Jordan Malone.

And yet another part of her was demanding that she do just that. That she trust him,

possibly with her life.

I’ll be here for you, Lilly. His voice whispered through her mind, seductive, alluring. But