Chapter 23

CHAPTER23

Griffin watched out the small window as the baggage cart snaked along the tarmac just as day was breaking. He blew out an exasperated breath. Why couldn’t they hurry and get this plane’s wheels up? Time was slipping away. He needed to get to Greece so he could bring down the ring of counterfeiters he’d spent nearly two years of his life chasing. And to free Elena.

Elena.

All these months, Griffin has thought of The Artist as some diabolical criminal, not some slave used by a conglomerate of gangsters. According to the agents at Homeland Security who’d briefed him last night, Elena was a twenty-five-year-old woman with the mind of a ten-year-old child. A gifted painter, she was a prodigy who was being manipulated by a gang of greedy thieves. Still, Salenko should have gone to the police to rescue his daughter. The string of dead bodies he’d left behind was unconscionable. Griffin wasn’t rescuing Elena because of the bargain he’d made with the dead man. He was rescuing Elena because Marin had begged him to.

Someone slid into the seat next to him and Griffin was relieved to hear the chimes indicating that the exit door was now closed. When the plane began to push back from the gate, Griffin felt himself relax. The passenger beside him struggled with the seat belt.

Griffin reached over to help and he was stunned to see Leslie seated there. “What the hell?”

She grimaced as she tried to maneuver the bulky brace on her wrist. “Oh puh-leeze,” she choked out. “You didn’t think I was just going to hand you this collar. Come on, Griff, you know me better than that.”

The flight attendants were reviewing the safety procedures as the plane taxied toward the runway. “Salenko fractured three bones in your wrist,” Griffin argued. “You should be home nursing it.”

“Relax. It’s not my weapon hand.” She shook a bottle of pills. “Besides, I’ve got enough of these to keep me happy during the ten-hour flight.”

Griffin slammed his head back against the seatback. “You’re nuts.”

“Takes one to know one,” she responded.

They sat in silence as the plane took off, dipping sharply several times before eventually reaching cruising altitude. Leslie unsuccessfully attempted to open the medicine bottle with one hand.

“Give me that.” Griffin grabbed the container from her and pried the lid off.

Leslie swallowed the pill with a gulp of water from a bottle she’d tucked into the seatback in front of her. With a heavy sigh, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll kick your ass in cards.”

“You shouldn’t have come,” Griffin repeated.

“I’ve got nowhere else to be,” she said, her eyelids still shut.

“You have a young son who you haven’t seen in five days.”

He watched as she swallowed roughly. “He’s still in Disney World with his father. Not that Daniel is spending time with him. He’s at a bar association thingy. Daniel’s parents are chaperoning.”

“Ahh,” Griffin said. “You’re jealous because you wanted to go.”

Leslie’s eyelids snapped open. She had a tiger mom look in her eyes he only saw when she was arguing on the phone with Daniel. “I’m not jealous of Eileen and Bill. They are wonderful people who love Dylan and give him much needed support when I’m working.”

Griffin cringed at her ferocity. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

Her eyes were suddenly damp and she looked away quickly. “They won’t be home until Sunday night,” she murmured. “Plenty of time for me to capture the bad guys and still be back in New York to make my son’s lunch for preschool on Monday.”

He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “But you’d rather work than sit at home alone.”

“It figures you would be the one to understand.” She sniffled. “You’re the king at avoiding heavy issues by diving into a case.”

He yanked his hand back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what you think it means. You use your career to fulfill your emotional needs.” She winked at him. “Not that I’m complaining about some aspects of your neurosis.”

“I don’t do that!”

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow at him, infuriating Griffin even more. “Then what are you doing on this plane?”

He felt like he was going to explode. “Apparently talking to a mad woman!”

Leslie had the gall to laugh. “Said the kettle to the black pot.”

“I’m traveling to Greece to rescue a young woman who is being held captive for the purposes of forging money and valuable artwork,” he said through gritted teeth. “In doing so, I’ll be breaking up a conglomerate of counterfeiters and thieves that I’ve been chasing for well over a year.”

“Pfft,” Leslie said waving her arm brace through the air. “Interpol will be the ones doing the rescuing. You’ve already done the heavy lifting and solved the case. You didn’t need to run all the way to Europe to finish this thing out. You could have talked the director out of sending you.”

“Hey, Black Pot, you’re on this damn plane, too!”

She laughed again. “Yes, but we’ve already established that I’m an emotional wreck. Of course, if you repeat that to anyone, I’ll claim it was the drugs talking.” Leslie sobered up. “You should be in New Orleans at that wedding, Griff.”

Her soft words were like a sucker punch.

Griffin glanced out the window to avoid Leslie’s probing eyes. “You’re definitely high,” he mumbled as he stared down at the dark ocean dotted with fluffy white clouds.

Leslie sighed heavily. “She declared her love to you in front of a crowd of people,” she said to the back of his head. “It doesn’t get more real than that. And don’t think that she spoke up then just because she had a needle shoved into her throat.”

The image of Salenko’s deadly syringe jabbed into Marin’s perfect ivory skin caused his rage to ignite again. He clenched his fists tightly.

Leslie put her uninjured palm on top of Griffin’s right hand. “That woman is perfect for you, Griffin. Don’t let my or anyone else’s failed relationships dictate how you live your own life. You have a real shot with Marin. There’s something special there between you two and I’m pretty sure you know it. You can’t give up on her like this.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not the one who gave up,” he snapped. “She is.” He swallowed roughly remembering her parting words in the Queen’s bedroom. “Marin told me to come to Greece to rescue Elena. She isn’t interested in anything more than what we had the past week.”

“Did she happen to mention why?”

Her question infuriated him more, because it conjured up the image of Marin naked, draped in the floral sheets of the big canopy bed. She’d looked so earnest, especially as she’d said the words that both set him free and cut him to the quick.

I’ll always want more than you can give me. Being a Secret Service agent is who you are. I couldn’t ask you to give that up and still live with myself.

“She said she didn’t want to be involved with a Secret Service agent.”

“Really?” Leslie wore a perplexed look. “Or is that just what you wanted to hear?”

Griffin was done listening to Leslie impersonate a cable network shrink. He ripped off his seat belt and went to crawl over her lap in order to reach the aisle. She placed her good hand on his arm to stop him.

“Just hear me out on one last thing and I’ll let the subject drop forever,” she pleaded.

He was tempted to pull out of her grasp, but his mother had raised him better than that. Leslie’s eyes grew misty again as he hovered over her.

“If Daniel had looked at me just once the way you look at Marin, we’d still be together,” she whispered.

* * *

Marin always loved how the big ballroom at the Chevalier, New Orleans looked when it was decorated for a wedding. She adored the ambiance the large alabaster chandeliers created when they washed the room in a warm glow. And the way the marble statues, set into arched vestibules in the wall, seemed to be bowing their heads in hushed prayer beneath their soft awning of individual spotlights.

On this particular Saturday afternoon, the staff had spared no expense in decorating for the owner’s granddaughter. The white on white tables accented with gold utensils and bronze bamboo chairs provided the perfect backdrop for the towering treelike centerpieces of peach Oceana roses. The crystal adorning each place setting sparkled in the late-day sun.

Behind the dais, sounds from Canal Street filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling doors that opened to the city. Marin wandered over to the table next to the dais and checked on her pride and joy, the wedding cake. Four of the five layers of vanilla cake were filled with a raspberry puree filling. The top layer Marin had baked herself, flavoring it with her cousin’s favorite toffee. She’d covered the whole cake in cream cheese icing before decorating it with edible gold lace and pearls. A cascade of Oceana roses spiraled down one side, pooling at the silver base on which the cake stood proudly.

She lifted her hand to adjust one of the roses, trying not to aggravate the still tender skin on her palm. Marin hadn’t done her injuries any favors by spending ten hours decorating her cousin’s wedding cake. But the end result was worth it. And having something exacting to focus on helped to ease the residual pain—both physical and emotional—that Marin had returned home with.

Her family had blessedly given her space. Even more surprising, Ava had backed off her demand that Marin bring a date to the wedding. Her cousin seemed in a mellow mood leading up to her marriage ceremony. Marin was actually looking forward to celebrating with Ava and her new husband this evening.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Ava said from across the room.

“Just making sure everything is perfect.” Marin turned to face her cousin. “For your perfect—why aren’t you dressed?”

Ava crossed the wide ballroom wearing a pair of faded, high couture jeans, a floral peasant blouse that flowed when she walked and stiletto-heeled Jimmy Choo’s. Her long black hair hung down her back in glorious waves. She looked as if she was going to lunch with friends, not walking down the aisle of St. Charles Church in an hour.

“The wedding pictures are in forty-five minutes!” Marin exclaimed. “It took them that long just to get my hair into this ridiculous updo. You’ll never be ready in time.”

Her cousin avoided looking directly at Marin, instead ambling up to the wedding cake and admiring it like one would appreciate a statue in a museum, slowly tilting her neck from side to side.

“It’s gorgeous,” Ava said quietly. “You really are unbelievably talented.”

Marin was starting to get a very bad feeling. “What’s going on?”

Ava ignored the question. She picked up the silver cake knife from the table and proceeded to cut into the top layer of the cake.

“What are you doing?” Marin cried, her chest constricting painfully with each inch the knife slid into the cake.

“I’m having a piece before I go,” Ave responded, matter-of-factly.

“Go?” Marin felt her face heat with anger. “What do you mean ‘go’?” Except she had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly what her cousin meant.

Ava dumped the slice of cake onto a plate and walked over to one of the tables where she snitched a dessert fork. As she put a forkful of cake into her mouth, her eyes slid closed.

“Mmm.” A look of pure delight swept over her face. “Toffee.” Ava’s eyes were bright with tears when she opened them. “You made my favorite. For me?”

“Of course I did.” Marin stomped her foot, the high heels she wore making her wobble on the plush carpet. “And I squeezed into a pair of Spanx to fit into this damn bridesmaid dress for you, too!”

Her cousin sighed as she slid into one of the chairs and speared another piece of cake. “You could say this is actually your fault.”

“My fault?” Marin was so incredulous she could barely find the words.

“Last night, the president filled the family in on all the details of your adventure,” Ava said around another mouthful of cake.

“My ‘adventure’?” Marin’s body began to shake. “Is that what you call getting kidnapped and nearly killed—multiple times? Say nothing of the fact that my ‘adventure’ was all your fault! If you hadn’t demanded that I bring a date to your stupid wedding, I never would have given the creepy guy a second look and he never would have known I existed!”

Ava wore a serious expression when she looked up from her plate. “I didn’t say it was a good adventure. But it changed you forever. You can’t possibly look at life the same way after going through that. Life is short, seize the day, live for the moment, and all that. Right?”

Stunned, Marin sank into the chair next to her cousin’s. “Something like that,” she said softly. Except Marin hadn’t exactly seized the day. Instead, she’d pushed the man she loved away.

“Life is too short to marry someone just because he’s convenient,” Ava explained, finally. “So, I’m seizing my day.”

Marin picked up a fork of her own and nabbed a piece of cake off her cousin’s plate.

“That’s all Richard is to you? Convenient?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Rich is a wonderful guy. He’s my father’s protégé, so I know he’s smart and hardworking. But if I married him, my life wouldn’t change all that much. I’d still be the same old Ava. Only then I’d be living in a different house with a different last name and a different man sheltering my life.” Ava blew out a breath. “He’d be the perfect husband for any woman. Just not for me.” She looked at Marin resolutely. “I’m not sure I’m invested enough in a relationship with him to kill another man in order to save Rich’s life.”

The cake caught in Marin’s throat and she coughed. “Since when is that a requirement for a woman to marry a man?” she choked out. “Besides, you don’t have to love someone to save their life. It’s just the decent thing to do.”

Ave shot her the look she always gave Marin when she caught her in a lie. Then she put her fork down carefully. “Rich wants a society wife who’ll stay home with the kids,” Ava whispered. “What happens if I want more? What if I decide life with him and our children isn’t enough? What’s to stop me from just picking up and leaving?”

Marin’s heart squeezed tightly. “So that’s what this is all about.” She reached over and took her cousin’s hand. “You’re not your mother, Ava.”

“How do you know?”

Her cousin’s words dumbfounded Marin because, really, she didn’t know.

“You see,” Ave said stubbornly. “That’s why I have to go out there and live a little. Away from the protective cocoon of this family. And my father’s Mini-Me. You followed your dreams. And look what happened. I want an adventure that will define me, too.” Her face took on a faraway look. “And maybe I’ll find that perfect guy who gets me like your Secret Service agent gets you.”

“There’s a world of difference between someone getting you and them wanting to give up a part of who they are to spend their life with you,” Marin replied, blinking back tears.

“That’s because I’ve been hit in the head with a hockey puck too many times and I needed to have it spelled out for me.”

The sound of Griffin’s voice behind them startled Marin and she jumped up from her chair. She turned to see him in his all too familiar pose, leaning nonchalantly against one of the room’s pillars. Her mouth dried up at the sight of him in his tuxedo. The stark white shirt against his dark skin gave him that pirate look that made her knees feel like Jell-O. Every time.

“Griffin,” she croaked.

“That’s Griffin?” Ava murmured. “Hot. Damn.”

He stepped away from the pillar and walked over to their table. Marin grabbed the back of a chair for support.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He gestured to his tuxedo. “I promised you an evening of chivalry, dancing, and meaningful glances. And I always make good on my promises. Especially for someone I owe my life to.”

Sighing lustfully, Ava rose from her seat and sauntered over to Griffin.

“I’m her cousin, Ava.” She stuck out her hand as she introduced herself.

“The bridezilla.” Griffin wrapped his fingers around Ava’s.

Ava shot Marin a look over her shoulder, then she mouthed the word “Wow.”

Marin bit back a smile. She was still trying to figure out how and why Griffin was standing a mere two feet from her when he was supposed to be in Greece. Doing what he lived to do. Saving people. Taking down the bad guys.

“Technically I’m a runaway bridezilla, tonight,” Ava clarified. “And on that note, I think this is my cue to start running.”

“Wait!” Marin lurched toward her cousin. While she wanted a private moment to question Griffin, she wasn’t so sure she wanted Ava to leave her alone with him. Her heart was still too tender. “Where are you planning to go?”

Her cousin rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I haven’t completely slipped this family’s leash. Grandfather is making me work at the Chevalier in London for two years. I’m his indentured servant until I pay back every penny”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“for the wedding-that-wasn’t.” Ava shrugged. “It’s fair. Who knows? My adventure might be waiting in Europe for me.” She wrapped her arms around Marin in a warm embrace. “I’ll call you every day.”

“Let’s not go overboard,” Marin teased.

“I’ll miss you.” Ava glanced over her shoulder at Griffin. “I’m guessing more than you’ll miss me with that stud warming your bed,” she whispered.

Marin hugged her cousin tightly, brushing her lips across Ava’s cheek. “I really hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said around the lump in her throat. “But always remember that I love you. No matter what.”

“Take this,” Ava slipped a keycard out of the back pocket of her jeans and placed it on the table. “There’s no reason to let the honeymoon suite go to waste since I’m paying for it with my blood, sweat, and tears. Seize the day!”

With a wink, she turned to leave the ballroom.

“Be good to her, special agent,” Ava called from the doorway. “Because if you don’t, I know people.”

Griffin dropped his chin to his chest and let out a beleaguered sigh.

“She used to always want to play Thelma and Louise when we were kids,” Marin explained for no other reason than to diffuse Ava’s dramatic exit.

“Remind me never to introduce her to Leslie,” he said with a grin.

Marin’s breath hitched at the sight of his smile. She really needed to pull herself together.

“Elena?” she asked.

“Interpol rescued her about two hours ago.”

“Interpol? Not you?”

He stepped closer to her so that their bodies were separated by inches. Griffin reached up and lightly traced a finger over her healing lip. Marin couldn’t stop her sigh.

“It was pointed out to me by the other half of Thelma and Louise that I had already set Elena’s rescue into motion and it was redundant for me to actually travel to Greece.” He pulled apart the hands that Marin was wringing together and inspected each palm. “Besides, I had something more important to do. Like this.” He pressed a gentle kiss to each hand.

Marin was embarrassed by the soft keening sound that escaped the back of her throat. Griffin’s smile turned smug as he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist and pulled her in closer to him.

“And this,” he said before tenderly pressing his lips to hers. “And to tell you that you were wrong.”

“About what?” she asked as her lips grazed his jaw. Not that she even cared what she was wrong about at this point.

“You said I couldn’t give you what you wanted. But to be fair, you never gave me a chance to.”

She pulled back to look into his eyes. Staring back at her was the passion guaranteed to always make her insides quiver. But there was vulnerability shining in them, too.

“When did you figure that out?”

He groaned before leaning his forehead against hers. “About an hour into a ten-hour flight. The first ten-hour flight.”

Marin ran her hands up his back as she kissed his neck. “I could never ask you to give everything up.”

Griffin lifted his head. “That’s just it, you don’t have to. I don’t have to give everything up.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yeah, my job is important to me, but I don’t have to let it define me any longer. Not when I can be so much more with you.”

A warm flush of happiness spread over Marin’s skin. “Are you sure?”

“There are lots of jobs out there where I can protect people, Marin,” he said. “But my first priority will always be protecting you.”

She kissed him then. His mouth felt and tasted like home. And new beginnings.

“You were wrong about something else, too,” he said when they came up for air.

Marin arched an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been wrong twice.”

Griffin didn’t let her quip get by without another searing kiss.

“You were wrong when you said I didn’t have to love you back,” he said against her lips. “Because I do have to love you, Marin Chevalier. I can’t not love you.”