Chapter 5 HER FACE PALED

Her face paled, and the composure she wore as armor finally fractured.

"You must be joking," she choked out. "You think you can coerce me into doing what you want because of this?"

"It works for you, doesn't it?"

She pursed her lips and took a sip of her wine, trying to hide her nerves.

"I think you'll do whatever I ask of you if it means protecting Birdie. The Ricky Montoya deal is just another incentive."

Her fingers made small, jittery movements in her lap. "And what exactly are you asking of me?"

For a moment, I allowed myself to get lost in her smoky gray eyes. They were hypnotic, almost feline, and I could see why men fell all over themselves for her. In this lighting, the soft glow on her coppery skin painted an image of a Greek goddess close enough to touch but too far removed from reality. She was the ethereal oasis that men wished they could find in the parched desert. At a different time in my life, I might have been one of them.

Gypsy was tall and curvy in all the right places, flaunting a body not even an airbrush could replicate. Her presence radiated sexuality. Femininity. Sharp cheekbones and boldly arched brows highlighted the beauty of her face, but the real Achilles' heel was her plump red lips. She was the woman who brought men to heel, her siren's song luring them toward an unknown hell.

Her beauty wasn't her only asset, but it was the only one she ever learned to use. If I were a sexually motivated man, I might have considered her a nice trophy, but to me, she was just another tragedy.

"You're going to be my wife," I told her.

Her lips tilted at the corners. She was amused by the idea, and she didn't hide it. "Yeah, right."

I drained my glass and wiped the condensation from my hand with a napkin. "Here is my offer. The only offer you will get from me."

Her smile dissolved as I retrieved the prenup from my briefcase and tossed it in front of her. Dark chestnut hair fell around her shoulders as she leaned forward to read, her eyes narrowing farther with every flip of the page.

"Why would you do this?" She peered up at me. "You know what I do. Who I am. Surely even an asshole like you can find a wife who wouldn't put you through hell."

"It would be a mistake to lump me into the same category as the men you've fooled," I assured her. "You won't make my life hell because you will never have that power in this situation."

"Of course not." Her jaw tightened. "Because you aren't looking for a wife. You're looking for a puppet."

"For transparency, I will give you that. Your role is what I say when I say it. You fulfill your end of the bargain for as long as I want, and then I will set you free. If you don't, then I will use my digital Rolodex to destroy you and your sister's lives."

She shoved the papers back in my direction and shook her head in disgust. "I won't do it. You can forget it."

I stood, buttoning my suit jacket. "Suit yourself then."

She rose too, like a queen from the flames of her throne. "Where is my sister?"

"You have seventy-two hours, and then the offer is forfeited."

Even though my Audi R8 was built for speed and power, I'd never really tested its capabilities as I did on the way home. Gunning it through the streets of Vegas had always been too risky, and I didn't need that type of attention. But in this case, the cops were the least of my concerns

When I pulled into the lot, Birdie's car was parked in her space, and my heart was racing as I scrambled up the stairs to our door. There was no need to unlock it because it was already cracked. I hesitated on the threshold, too paralyzed by the idea of what I might find inside.

"Gypsy?" Birdie's frail voice called out. "Is that you?"

I shouldered the door opened and pushed inside but halted at the sight of my trembling sister on the sofa. Her eyes were red, her cheeks stained with mascara, and it had the immediate effect of triggering every protective instinct inside me. I wanted to murder Lucian West, and if he were here right now, I seriously might have.

"Birdie, are you okay?" I moved closer but froze a foot in front of her.

She wasn't a little girl anymore, and I didn't know how to comfort her when she was like this. Inside, Birdie was softer than she let on, but on the outside, she was full of rage. There was an incendiary device lying in wait for the right trigger, and it didn't explode often, but when it did, it leveled everything in her path. Even that was preferable to what I was witnessing now. Birdie didn't cry. Neither of us cried anymore. It was a silent promise we made to ourselves after we left California. No more tears.

"I'm sorry." She clutched her arms around her body, rocking back and forth. "I'm so sorry, Gypsy. I screwed up. I screwed up so bad"

"It's okay," I assured her. "I promise, it's going to be okay. But right now, I just need you to go pack. Only necessities as we've talked about. Your wallet, IDs..."

Birdie's gaze moved behind me, and the rest of the instructions lodged in my throat when the telltale sound of a gun cocked and pressed against the base of my spine.

"She's not going anywhere, and neither are you."

Birdie broke down again, sobbing uncontrollably while I tried to come up with a plan. But apart from kicking this dude in the nuts and trying to run before he shot and killed us both, I had nothing.

"Do you work for Mr. West?" I asked.

"I'm an associate of Mr. West's," he answered. "I don't work for anybody but myself."

Well, that was clear as mud. "Whatever he's paying you, I can double it."

A husky laugh wheezed out of his throat. "That's cute."

"Look, what do you want?"

"It isn't what I want. You know the deal. It's been laid out already. If you need clarification, you can call Mr. West."

"Can you kindly put the gun away?" I asked. "So we can discuss this like civilized adults?"

He removed the gun from my back, and I turned around slowly to face him. The guy was huge. Undoubtedly some type of mercenary if my wild imagination had anything to say about it. I wasn't in the habit of feeling intimidated by men, but it was an instinct to falter in the presence of this one.

The guy was an animal. Six feet of rugged muscle poured into motorcycle boots, jeans, and a leather biker vest. Not exactly who I would expect Lucian to run with, but I guess it shouldn't have surprised me. He was a criminal attorney.

"I'm Gypsy." I offered a tentative smile. "Which I'm sure you know already. But I didn't catch your name."

"You can call me Ace," he grunted.

"Okay, Ace. Let me take a stab at the situation," I ventured. "Mr. West helped you out somehow, and now you feel indebted to him, right?"

He tilted his head and smiled. "Lucian was right about you, you know that?"

His words left a sour taste in my mouth, but I tried not to let it get to me. "How so?"

"You think you can bat your eyelashes at any man who comes your way and bend him to your will."

"It was just a simple question."

Ace shrugged. "Well, if you must know, he did help me out. He helped me out in a way that nobody else ever would, and I owe him my life. So you can save your breath trying to make a deal with me."

I knew he wasn't mincing words. His loyalty to Lucian was unwavering, and I was at a loss. "So what happens now?"

Ace glanced at Birdie, and I stepped in front of her to obscure his vision. I didn't want him to witness my sister crying. I didn't want anyone to see how vulnerable she was.

"The way I see it." Ace scratched at his beard. "You and your sister here are fucked six ways from Sunday. If I were you, I'd take the deal."

"No," Birdie shouted.

When I turned, she was already up off the sofa and trying to push through the barrier I'd created to protect her.

"Sit down, Birdie."

"No," she insisted. "I did this. It was my fault. Tell Mr. West that I will fulfill the deal."

Ace narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "That's not the deal, kid. Ain't gonna happen."

"Are you crazy?" I asked Birdie. "You know I wouldn't let you do that. Stay out of this, B."

"God, Gypsy." She wiped at her tear-smudged face and turned her angry blue eyes on me. "I'm not a kid, okay? I screwed up, and I should be the one to pay for it. You can't fix everything for me all the time. Do you get that?"

"Obviously," I snapped. "Because everything I've done to protect you has completely gone to shit now. How could you do this to me? After everything I've done to make us a home here, how could you just throw it all away?"

Regret welled in her eyes, and she looked at the floor. "I just wanted to be like you."

Her words gutted me, and I knew she was right. This was my fault. I hadn't shown her the way to live. I'd managed to get by with the idea that I'd done the best I could with what I'd been given, but that wasn't an excuse. My eyes burned so deep with shame, it nearly spilled free. But I couldn't allow that to happen.

Birdie had to know I was strong. She had to know I could handle this. I would fix it. I always did. I forced myself to hug her, and she cried harder.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry, B. I should have done better. I will do better from now on."

"It's not your fault," she insisted.

We broke apart, and I fixed the messy hair around her face as Ace walked to the fridge and grabbed a six-pack of beer he must have brought with him.

"Women," he muttered.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he plopped on the couch, kicking his dirty boots up onto my Italian mahogany coffee table.

He reached for the remote and turned on the television. "Making myself at home. It's going to be a long three days."

I stared at him incredulously. "You think you're staying here for the next three days?"

He flipped through the channels without regard to my frustration. "It's either that or I take her with me as collateral until your decision is made."

I jabbed a finger in his direction. "Over my dead body."

He didn't bother to look at me as he settled back into the sofa and got comfortable. "It's your funeral then."

I didn't think he was serious about killing me, but then again, how could I be sure of anything? I turned to Birdie, who was terrified even though she was trying to put on a brave face.

"It's going to be okay," I promised her.

"How?" she whispered.

I looked at Ace and forced the words out with a smile for her benefit.

"I'll think of something. I always do."