"You'd make a great chef," she said once she'd swallowed. "Ever think of leaving the honor-bound, criminal-interrogating hypnotist society to try your hand at that?"
Chance sliced her a steaming piece of bread, an odd smile on his face. "I can never leave the society I'm part of, Isabella. Once you become a member, you stay that way forever."
"Then I hope they have a hell of a retirement plan," she quipped.
That made Chance grin, highlighting the dimple on his chin. "The best there is, I assure you."
He took the stool next to Isa, but didn't bother getting himself a plate. Isa gestured with her fork at all the food spread out in front of her.
"Are you going to eat anything?"
His lips were parted, so Isa could see his tongue flick out to caress the tops of his teeth.
"Later."
There was something in the purr of that single word that made Isa suddenly lose her appetite. Her appetite for food, to be more specific. Another appetite reared its long-neglected head and began screeching to be satisfied.
Chance reached out, gently brushing her hair back from her face. His hand was cool against her cheek, like silk made into flesh. Isa drew in a breath, noting with curious detachment that it was uneven. Funny, the more she stared into Chance's eyes, the more she became convinced they were turning green.
"Back away, Chance. We need to keep things professional between us."
She made herself say it, because even if it wasn't true, it made sense to utter those words. Chance was practically a stranger, and a peculiar one at that. So what if she was drawn to him in ways she'd never felt before? So what if he fascinated her with his unusual mix of courtliness and utter disregard for the law? Getting Frazier back safely was her top priority, period. That meant canoodling with a local crime boss who thought she was going to marry him, not making out with an out-of-town hypnotist who might get killed with his next act.
Chance leaned closer, so that the breath from his words fell directly on her lips.
"You don't want to."
Boy, was he right about that. Keep things professional? Hardly. All Isa wanted to do now was press her mouth against his and rake her tongue inside until she couldn't taste anything but him.
Chance's nostrils flared. He closed his eyes and took in a deep, slow breath.
Isa closed her eyes as well. If she tilted her head even the slightest way in either direction, his lips would brush hers. Chance was that close to her. Yet she couldn't do it, and she instinctively knew it was what he was waiting for.
"Why are you fighting this so hard?" he whispered.
The question startled Isa into opening her eyes and sitting back, putting a safer distance between them. She ran a trembling hand through the same part of her hair Chance had smoothed away moments before.
"Because I want it too much."
Her honesty surprised her more than his question had. Chance took in another deep breath, his eyes still closed, and then he leaned back as well. Now there were a few feet of distance between them. Isa couldn't help but feel disappointed, even though it was her own fault.
Chance opened his eyes. They didn't look green-tinged anymore, and somehow that made Isa realize how serious he was.
"After I get back from speaking with Robert, you and I need to talk. I've lived too long not to recognize what a rare thing this is between us, but there are certain things about me you need to know before we go further."
"Are you married?" Isa asked at once, dread in her belly.
A soft snort escaped him. "No."
"A CIA agent? Illegal alien in search of a green card? Wanted criminal?"
"Nothing like that. Stop guessing, trust me, you wouldn't pick it at random, and as I said, I'll tell you later. After I've discovered what's going on with your brother."
Frazier's predicament did come first. Wasn't that why she'd stopped him earlier, when it looked like he'd been nanoseconds from kissing her? So why was she feeling, oh, bereft now?
"I have a feeling I won't like whatever it is you're going to tell me."
Chance gave her such a penetrating look, Isa wondered if mind reading was also part of his skills. It seemed like he was seeing into her fears and weighing them against whatever it was he intended to tell her.
"Either way, you will hear it. And then you'll decide what you want to happen between us."
If she was braver, she would have insisted on hearing it now. But Isa didn't think she could take her uncertainty over Frazier, her fears that her grandmother would be the next person Robert used against her, and whatever tidbit Chance would reveal about himself all at the same time. At least let her have closure on one of those things, then she'd handle the bad news Chance threw her way, because Isa doubted he had something as mundane as unpaid parking tickets to tell her about.
"You're going to Robert's tonight?" was all she said.
Chance nodded. "And afterward, I'll come see you with what I've discovered…and to talk."
That clenching in her stomach returned, but Isa forced herself to ignore it.
"Then I guess you'd better get prepared. You have a big day ahead of you."
He slid off the stool, moving like his body was somehow absent of bones and made entirely of coiling muscles instead.
"I'll see you later."
Isa hoped so. She also hoped Frazier was with him. In fact, she couldn't remember when she'd hoped so hard for things she wasn't taking care of herself. Leaning on another person. It was so unlike her, yet it was what she was doing now.
"I'm counting on that."
Chapter 6
Chance watched the men below him. The Salucci brothers seemed to be pretending to be Joe Pesci in Casino. All bada-boom, bada-bings, and just looking for ways to get insulted. Robert, surprisingly enough, conducted himself with more finesse, though he also seemed to be doing a bad acting job. Any moment now, Chance was sure Robert would lower his voice to a scratchy whisper and make the Salucci brothers an offer they couldn't refuse.
Chance had been around enough genuinely frightening people to know all this bluster and showboating for the camouflage it was. When someone was truly deadly, human or otherwise, he or she didn't waste time trying to convince people about it. No, he or she just killed everyone around them who had a dissenting opinion. That's why you'll always be a bridesmaid and never a bride, Chance thought while looking at Robert. You think if you kill a few people, bribe a few cops, dress in Armani suits and have a cookie-cutter Italian wife, the real mafia will welcome you into their fold. But you're wrong. They can smell a poser almost as well as I can smell my next dinner.
Still, at least this grandiose dick-measuring contest between the Salucci brothers and Robert afforded Chance an easier way of grabbing him. Robert had even picked the Penn station docks along the Delaware River at midnight for their powwow. The clichés were so thick, Chance was almost choking on them.
"You're makin' a mistake," the older Salucci brother told Robert before he turned with a dramatic swirl of his trench coat. He stalked off, his younger brother and bodyguard in tow. They got into the black Bentley that had been running the entire time, and the driver peeled off with a squeal of tires.
"Finally," Chance muttered. He gave Paul's jugular a caressing glance. Paul had eaten about a dozen doughnuts before this meeting, Chance knew, because the heavy smell of fried sugary goodness wafted up to him even from his light pole perch. Chance licked his lips. Mmm, dinner and dessert, all at the same time.
Chance dropped down from the tall broken streetlight. It never ceased to amaze him how some humans could be so oblivious to their environment—especially ones who prided themselves on being cunning. If Robert, Paul, or Ritchie had even once looked up, they would have noted that the south street light was significantly taller than the ones around it. They might not have been able to see what—or who—was perched on it in the darkness, but they could have realized that something was there.