Divine Justice (22 page)

"Depends on what look you're after."

"What does this outfit say?"

"Smart and sexy."

Jasi buttoned the jacket.

"Okay," Natassia said, making a face. "Skip the sexy."

"Perfect. And by the way, I won't be late."

"Stay out as long as you want." Natassia arched a brow. "This old friend of yours, does he have a brother?"

"No."

"I guess I'll have to make do with Ben's company."

Jasi hesitated, wondering if she should say something. She glanced over Natassia's shoulder. Ben was watching them, probably wondering what they were whispering about.

"Ben takes this job very seriously," she said finally. "He's focused on solving every case that comes his way. And he likes things a certain…way."

"You mean he's old school."

Jasi chuckled. "I guess you could say that."

"Got any tips on how I can get on his good side? Providing he
has
a good side"

"You might want to dress more…uh, conservatively."

Natassia's eyes flared in mock outrage. "What, no skinny jeans or cleavage? Hell, that's no fun."

"If it's fun you're after, Ben isn't your guy."

Natassia nudged her into the hall. "Yeah, whatever you say. Have fun, Jasi. Don't come back early." She waved once, then closed the door

In the hallway, Jasi mulled over Natassia's words.

Have fun?
She wasn't sure she knew what fun was.

A quick look at her watch made her curse. She was nearly twenty-five minutes late―half an hour by the time she'd reach the dining room.

On the way down to meet Zane, she thought of Natassia. Obviously her new partner was attracted to Ben. Did he return the interest?

At the entrance to The Study Lounge in the Embassy Hotel, Jasi slipped past the customers who were waiting to be seated.

A young woman intercepted her. "Can I help you?"

"I'm meeting someone and I'm late."

The hostess smiled. "Ah, this way please."

She led Jasi toward a table in the back corner. Zane was sipping a glass of red wine, looking rather relaxed and as handsome as ever. He smiled and stood as she approached.

"Sorry I'm late," she said hurriedly.

"I thought maybe you'd changed your mind."

He pulled a chair out for her. She sank into it, suddenly realizing that she was famished. The hostess passed her a menu, but Zane slipped it from her hands. "Allow me."

With the suaveness that bespoke of a lifetime of dining out, he said, "We'll have the crab-stuffed mushrooms to start and a bottle of your best champagne."

"Iced tea for me," Jasi said.

Zane flashed a set of perfect teeth. "Champagne. We're celebrating, Jasmine. Besides, you're off duty now, right?"

She sighed. "Yes, I'm off duty."

When the hostess left, she said, "What exactly do you think we're celebrating, Zane?"

"Being together, of course. Tonight it's just you and me."

The light above their table shone down on Zane, illuminating the pale golden streaks in his hair.

He's almost angelic looking, she thought.

She suddenly recalled one of the steamy showers they had taken together in her old apartment. Nothing either of them had done that day was very angelic.

Her face grew hot.

"Something wrong, love?" he asked.

"No, I…it's a bit warm in here."

A waiter approached with a plate of mushrooms, two crystal flutes and a silver bucket containing the bottle of champagne on a bed of crushed ice. He efficiently set everything on the table and poured the champagne into the flutes.

"Are you ready to order, miss?" he asked Jasi.

"Two of your finest steaks, mate," Zane said without missing a beat. "Medium rare. Baked potatoes with the works and two Caesar salads."

Jasi's mouth thinned. "I'm perfectly capable of ordering my own food, thank you."

Zane gave her a wide-eyed look. "Of course you are. I happen to remember that we like the same things."

"That was three years ago," she snapped. To the waiter, she said, "I'll have the shrimp fiesta pasta and a tossed salad with lemon juice."

When the waiter was gone, she gritted her teeth. "Some things have changed, Zane. You shouldn't presume you know what I want."

He reached across the table. "Come on. Truce. Let's just enjoy each other's company."

Annoyed, Jasi picked at a mushroom. It probably would have tasted heavenly if she had been dining with anyone else, but for some reason the mushroom caught in the back of her throat and she had to wash it down with―what else?―the champagne.

She took a sip and made a face.

"Now what's wrong?" Zane asked.

"You forgot. I don't really care for champagne."

"I'll order some wine for you then."

She sighed. "No, I'm good."

There was a momentary lapse in conversation.

"So tell me," she said finally. "What are you really doing here?"

Zane's eyes burned into hers. "I'm here for business mostly. I'm meeting with a few clients this week, then heading back to New York for about a week. Actually, it could be a bit longer."

"Ah, good ole New York, New York." She couldn't control the sarcasm that oozed from her words.

Zane sighed. "Look, Jasmine…I'm sorry that last time I was away longer than I promised."

"Away? You make it sound like you were only gone a week."

"I did try to call you. A few times."

"I never got any calls."

"Every time I got your voice mail, I hung up. Call me a coward―"

Her eyes narrowed. "I did."

The waiter came back with the salads. As soon as he left, Zane said, "Yeah, I
was
a coward. I apologize. You deserved better."

You're damn right, she wanted to say.

Resentment clawed at her throat and she swallowed hard, willing her feelings into the background.

"It's really good to see you again, Jasmine," Zane said softly. "I've missed you."

"Could've fooled me. You seem to have moved on quite easily." She stabbed at a piece of cucumber with her fork. "You've been a busy boy. I heard that you testified in some heavy cases."

He gave her a surprised look.

"We do get the news in Vancouver," she said dryly.

"Did you know that I no longer consult for the CFBI?"

Now that surprised her.

"No. What happened?"

He shrugged. "I decided it was time to move on, work as an independent."

"Really? So you're doing what―family therapy, couples counseling?"

He smiled. "It's far more rewarding and definitely less stressful than dealing with serial killers."

They were briefly distracted when their dinner arrived.

"I saw your face plastered all over the news," she said. "You know, the Dubois trial?"

Zane nodded. "Now that was one sick bastard."

Sixty-year-old Andre Dubois owned a cattle ranch outside Edmonton's city limits. 'The best beef in Alberta' was his motto. 'Organically fed.' It took investigators years before they had enough evidence to charge Dubois, exposing him as one of Canada's most ruthless serial killers.

Dubois had raped and decapitated his victims―twenty-seven prostitutes―over a period of nine years. He kept the heads as trophies, wrapped them in brown paper and stored them in the freezer, alongside the grade A t-bones, ground beef and ribs. He even labeled the heads. 'Blade Roast.'

She glanced at his steak and shivered. "I couldn't eat beef for months after they found out what he'd done with the bodies."

"Is that why you don't eat steak any more?"

"I never said I didn't eat steak. I said I could order my own meal."

"I really thought he'd buried the bodies or dumped them in the river," Zane said. "So much for organically fed cows. I'm glad I'm not a beef inspector. Can you imagine finding human remains in the feed?" He sliced off a juicy piece of steak and put it in his mouth.

She picked at her salad. "No, I can't imagine."

"Sorry," he said. "Not good dinner conversation, is it?"

"Not really."

She focused on removing the eight jumbo shrimp from a bamboo skewer and mixed them into the pasta. The linguine noodles were tossed in a white wine and cilantro cream sauce. Light and satisfying.

Zane topped up her champagne glass.

"I'm good," she insisted. "I still have notes to go over."

He pouted. "The night is young, Jasmine. And so are we. I'm going to take you dancing afterward."

"I don't dance."

"Sure you do." He grinned. "I remember distinctly holding you in my arms. What was that song you liked so much?"

"I don't remember. I have work to do tonight."

"All work and no play―"

"I know, I know. I'm a dull girl, Zane. But I don't have time to play."

"The Jasmine I remember was anything but dull."

She tried not to let his words affect her.

"I'm not the same Jasmine."
I'm not a pushover who sits by the phone every day waiting for you to call.

"No, you're a workaholic," he said dryly. "There's more to life than work. You should go out, have fun, live life."

"I
am
living my life. The way I want to."

She couldn't allow Zane to gain any ground with her. Underneath all of his charm, he was a guy who would never commit to her, and she wasn't going to be used and tossed aside again.

"It's obvious you still have trust issues," he continued. "You should work on that."

"Don't analyze me, Zane," she said, gritting her teeth. "I am not one of your patients."

"I know that. I'm trying to help you."

"Help me?" She put down her fork, afraid that she might throw it at him.

Why the hell had she agreed to have dinner with him?

Why? Because you want closure, you idiot.

"I have everything I want or need, Zane."

He gazed at her for a long moment. Then he gave a nod and turned his attention to his meal. While they ate, she studied him discreetly.

Zane Underhill was her Greek Adonis. That's what she used to think. Everything about him was too damned perfect. He had a smile that could melt even the most stubborn of hearts. His blond hair was luxurious and wavy. His body was fit, defined by daily workouts in his home gym. And his hands…

She stared at them now. Tanned hands with long fingers. Piano player hands, she used to joke, even though Zane couldn't carry a tune, much less play a musical instrument.

But he sure played me.

Those hands had done things to her. They had caressed every inch of her, making her ache and cry out for more.

She bit her lip.
Stop it! Nothing good will come from thinking about what was, what used to be. It's over!

However, one look in Zane's eyes told her she was wrong. He wanted her. A tremble swept over her as she realized something else. She wanted him too.

"Fine," she said. "I'll go dancing. For one hour only."

What the hell am I doing?

"Jasi went out? With who?"

Natassia eyed Ben.
Was he jealous?