One More Night with You (15 page)

“The bodice of my dress is too snug.”

“Isn't that how it was designed? All of the other—”

“And my nipples are sore.”

“Uh...” Joey said again, frowning. Danica had avoided champagne, and now she was complaining of a too-snug dress and sore nipples? “Danni, are you
pregnant
?”

“A little. I mean, yes, pregnant. Not very far along.”

“
Ay, Dios mio...
This has got to be the most fertile wedding in Las Vegas's history. I'm going to research that.” She realized something else. “I'm the only woman in Lottie's entourage who isn't pregnant.”

“My sister said you're dating someone.”

“Affirmative.”

“Well, regular sex has its benefits, but you might want to double down on the protection if you want to remain the only woman in Charlotte's entourage who's not pregnant. Dex and I use condoms every time and here I am two months along.”

They were also having unusually copious amounts of sex, according to Blue family gossip. Since condoms were said to be only ninety-something percent effective, the odds of dodging a surprise probably weren't exactly in their favor.

“Does your man know you're preggers?”

Danica nodded emphatically. “I told him right away. He was as stunned as I was, because we hadn't planned for this, but he was happy. Really happy. Five minutes later we were celebrating.”

Joey tried to hold back her side-eye. She failed. At least Danica couldn't get pregnant while
already
pregnant. “If you think he's happy now, just wait until you guys discover no-condom sex.”

Danica surrendered to a crinkly-eyed smile. “We already have, and it's
amazing
.”

Okay, then. “For someone with such exceptional control on the football field, Dex sure can't hang on to his self-control with you.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way. We're in love.”

Love was good to Danica and Dex. Even as she reminded herself that she didn't want what they had because love required too much risk, she envied their ability to take the risk and to trust what they felt for each other.

“It's obvious you haven't told Tem. Why not?”

“This is the third alteration to my dress. This time she's going to notice that only the bust needs to be let out, and, come on, that's a glaring indicator.”

“Danica, I meant, if you and Dex are completely over the moon, why haven't you shared the baby news with your parents?”

“We wouldn't dream of overshadowing Charlotte's wedding. She's brave enough to allow Ma to have such influence over all of this, so she deserves the glory of a perfect day. Which she will have, providing neither Krissy nor Martha goes into early labor. God forbid.”

Joey echoed the sentiment in Spanish, adding a blessing.

“Also,” Danica said, almost timidly, “he and I want this for ourselves. We want time for privacy, time to enjoy being together before everyone else—family and the NFL and the media—get involved. I'm not explaining myself clearly, am I?”

“I think I understand, though, Danica. Will you and Mr. Quarterback be squeezing in a vacation before the season starts?”

“We're thinking something more meaningful than that. We want to be married, before the season begins, and the fewer people who know about it, the better.”

Uh-oh again.
“Why are you telling me?”

“Why
not
tell you?” Danica shook her head. “Joey, you're who I need in my corner for this. My best friend's mother operates a matchmaking business. Veda would never keep this secret from Willa. Dex's agent has agreed to stand up for him and I need you to stand up for me.” Danica gripped the partition. “Please, Joey? Who can keep things confidential better than a sports agent and an ex-FBI agent?”

“So I'm a chosen one because I can hold a secret?”

“You have a good heart, Joey. You're a sweet person even if you try not to be. And to be completely forthcoming and selfish on top of it, I need your help arranging a courthouse ceremony. We need this under wraps.”

“Are you sure, Danica? To be married in secret and have no one congratulate you on being newlyweds?”

“We don't need that. We have each other, we have love, and eventually...” She glanced down toward her tummy, and her smile could melt a million hearts.

Joey blurted, “Okay. I'm saying yes.”

“You'll help us?”

“I will.”

“Aww, thank you!” Danica's eyes turned misty and she fanned her face. “Oh, God. It's hormones. I'd better get out there. Let's talk more later. I can't wait to tell Dex tonight. He'll be so happy.”

So happy that he'd take Danica aside and they would
celebrate
, which was as per their usual?

“Then I should expect your call sometime tomorrow when you and your man
aren't
within groping distance of each other?”

Danica laughed. “Fine. Tomorrow. Judge us now, but wait until you're in love. Sex is great when it's a casual thing, but once you mix love into it...boom.”

Descending the stool slowly, and hearing Danica leave her stall and walk down the hall that led to the suite's main room, Joey figured she was in no position to judge. She and Zaf weren't in a loving relationship yet he had left her exhausted and well-done every day since she'd given him her key. Not to mention they were guilty of multiple counts of dirty public foreplay.

She wasn't sorry for any of it. She hurt because he'd never loved her, was confused because he behaved as though he
did
love her, was angry that he kept himself shrouded in secrecy, but she wouldn't erase any second of being body-to-body with him.

She cherished the moments he was with her and inside her and close enough to make her feel safe.

That was the strangeness in this. He made her feel protected, yet she couldn't trust him—especially not after what she'd learned this morning. The methods he'd used to get the information he wanted from Alessandro Franco were ripped from Archangel's playbook.

I'm not him. I'm not that other guy.

God help her, she did trust that. If she didn't, he wouldn't still have access to her house or her life.

Joey considered her reflection again. Her shoes hadn't yet been finalized, but the gown could stand to lose a half inch or so. She was certain the LJD staff would find plenty of imperfections she missed, and she was too in love with the garment to want to criticize it.

A tap on the door came, and this time she was ready to be zipped. “Come in. It's beautiful—”

“Sono d'accordo con te.”

Gian DiGorgio moved easily, calmly, shutting the dressing room door behind him and engaging the lock. His raven-black suit stood out like priceless ink spilled against the eggshell-colored walls. His face was jagged, unrefined stone—hard and threatening against the soft pastel environment.

His expensive scent choked her, and the compassionless hatred in his eyes stung.

He took a step forward and she made the civilian mistake of retreating
away
from anything she could use to defend herself.

Her weight rested on her strong leg, but the position wouldn't sustain her much longer. For a dressing room, this one was spacious—and while ordinarily that'd be a luxury she appreciated, right now it sucked major ass. The center of the room was open to accommodate extravagant dresses and multiple people fussing over this and that. She couldn't get to a wall without hopping an awkward distance or attempting to shift her weight to a weak hip that wouldn't hold up.

So she stayed where she stood, cataloging the creases and beard pattern and unique characteristics of his face as her periphery monitored his hands.

Reach for a weapon, any weapon, you bastard, and I'll find a way to disable you.

“Where are my friends?”

“Undisturbed in that outer room,
belladonna
. You wouldn't accuse me of threatening them, would you?”

“You're here uninvited, just as you were at the Slayers' training camp the other day. Now you're in my changing room with the door locked, and I don't want you here. So, in case this is unclear to you, Gian, I want you to get the hell out.”

“I see.” The man nodded deeply. “You don't like people poking around where they don't belong.”

She didn't answer. She knew where he was going with this and wouldn't entertain him. Her mind stubbornly wanted to panic, but she tried to think clearly. She had been trained for moments like this, had encountered full-on violent attacks and managed to survive them all.

There were no cameras in the dressing rooms. There was an emergency exit nearby—was that how he'd gained entry?

“What you did, Josephine, was stir up some...inconveniences. You interfered with my business operations. You compromised me. You damaged my profits. You bloodied my reputation—”

“I revealed your crimes. A genius is what you are, right? For a genius, you did a crappy job of covering your tracks. Blame yourself. Intimidate yourself.” Provoking a cold and illogical criminal with an ax to grind ranked high on the foolish scale, but she was furious that this man bathed her in fear.

“
Puttana
. A man should put you in your place.”

Joey resisted gritting her teeth. She had views about men who thought women needed to be put in their place. A few branches of her family
tree presented households functioning on a “me-man, you-woman, man-rules-woman” model that burned her bacon. “It won't be you.”

“Confident about that?”

“Outsourcing everything keeps your hands clean, true, but it shows what a weak, no-balls coward you really are.”

The insult struck him, crackling in his faded blue eyes, and he took a single step toward her. Closer and she could connect, fist to face.

Although physical confrontations weren't her preferred method of getting a point across, she was capable of defending herself.

“I don't outsource everything.” Gian raised a hand, but ran it down his crisply cut silver hair. “Your house is full of life. Bright. Welcoming. But you do own an alarming amount of clothes. Vanity is a vice, isn't it?”

Joey's throat felt tight. “Bastard. You
were
in my house.”

Gian watched her a moment, and she hated the slide of his gaze down her body. She held the dress tighter to her chest. “Anytime, Josephine. Anytime that I want to get to you, I will. I will use my hands and I will make you curse the day you interfered with my casino. The law can't protect you. Neither can your man. He's not here, but I am.”

He took yet another step, but not toward her. He picked up her cane and tossed it over the partition then unlocked her stall and walked smoothly out.

Joey started to shiver and she hated that. Weakness, vulnerability, inadequacy—it all began pushing to the surface. Why had she let down her guard, even for a moment, and allowed Gian DiGorgio to catch her unprotected? Why hadn't she kept a weapon strapped to her thigh? Why had she set her cane down, when she couldn't move without it?

She tried to get to the call button next to the stall door. Two steps forward and she spilled onto the floor.

Damn it!

She reached to grip the edge of a table, but ended up catching a sheer cloth and yanking down everything that had been arranged on top of it. The vase broke into large chunks and the roses...

The roses bounced and quivered and lay in a puddle of water.

And she started to cry.

When someone shouted her name, she didn't know how many minutes had passed.

“Miss de la Peña, I am
so
sorry! The door was locked, if you can believe it. It locks from the inside to protect our clients' items, but the emergency door was locked, too. It's the strangest thing. No one locks the dressing entry during salon hours. We can't find the key. Oh, Lord, what happened to you?”

Joey sniffled and saw Leda, Charlotte and Tem and an assistant barreling into the stall. “I fell.”

“Oh, your dress,” Tem said. “It's wet.”

“Ma, I'm more concerned about her than I am about the damn dress,” Charlotte said tersely. “Would you please unlock that outer door and let everyone know we've had an incident?”

Tem did an about-face, murmuring coolly to her daughter, “Watch your tone. Grow up, get married, but I'm still your mother.”

Charlotte accepted Leda's profuse apologies on Joey's behalf, stepped beside her and lowered to her haunches. “You fell?”

Joey looked at her, shaking her head.

“How in the world did your cane end up in the next changing room?” Leda asked incredulously when her assistant returned to the dressing room holding the stick.

“Can I have a sec with her?” Charlotte asked as the assistant began to clean up the broken glass. When they stepped away, she said, “That son of a bitch was here, wasn't he? What did he do?”

“Intimidated me, took my cane away. I
had
the bastard, Lottie. I had him red-effing-handed and he walked away without any of you knowing he was here to begin with. If he'd hurt any of you...”

“We are fine. It's you I'm worried about. Let me call Nate. Gian's his godfather. He needs to be aware of this, Joey.”

“No. It's the reaction he wants. He wants to know that he can frighten me. He confronted me full-on today. I don't think it'll be long before he makes a real move.”

“I'm scared for you,” her friend said firmly. “Maybe this is something you're used to, but I'm not. Go to the police. Please.”

“He's walked away a free man once. It'll happen again, Lottie.”

“Then where is Zaf? He's supposed to protect you.”

“We had a fight this morning and I asked him to not come here or to the dinner.”