didn’t make it out alive, but the bumbling members of Evangeline’s team weren’t accounted for in the dead or the living.
Which only forced the additional question of just how bumbling and stupid Troy and Victor really were.
He and Gabe had argued the point until early morning, going round and round without answers. Gabe wanted to exorcise Evangeline from the property and Rafe continued to press for her to stay. His overt argument was so they could watch her. If she was a channel for the Hunters, she was far more useful to them nearby than from a distance.
And if a small part of him fervently wished she was oblivious to the threat that swirled, he’d live with that. Their stolen moments in the corridor downstairs had been some of the sweetest of his life and he refused to believe he was simply thinking with his hormones.
Even if he knew damn well they played a role, too. He wanted the woman. The razor-sharp claws of desire had dragged at him for days—hell, since she started at the hotel, if he were being honest—and something in spending time with her had only made that need more intense.
More urgent.
And far more potent than if he’d continued to deny his interest and stay away.
None of which answered the lingering questions that swirled around the subject of Evangeline Kennedy. Was she the reason for his early Rejuvenation? He’d felt the change coming on for a few days, but in those moments in the high-roller suite, hosting their potential clients, he’d been nearly overcome. Hell, he’d practically stumbled from the high-end villas across the back of the property.
And then he’d fully regenerated, practically in front of her.
Was it possible she had a hand in his early transformation?
He crossed to his desk and picked up the flat disk once more. The thick metal was warm to the touch, a strange, heavy counterpoint to the wood he held in his other hand. Power seemed to pulse between the two objects, that yin and yang his father was so determined to preach.
That strange, precarious balance that dictated their lives more succinctly than any plans or goals they set for themselves.
Rafe tightened his fingers around the objects before crossing back to his safe and relocking both firmly behind the metal door.
It was time to get some answers.
Evangeline let out a heavy breath as she took in the row of sculptures, set at odds among a bright, vivid infusion of flowers. The installation was a centerpiece of the Archangel’s entertainment corridor, an effusive welcome as casino patrons moved past several restaurants and bars.
And someone had craftily positioned two statues beside each other in flagrante delicto.
Where was Security when you needed them?
And worse, why was her mind immediately filled with impressions of Rafe?
Shaking off the erotic image of his mouth trailing along her skin, she desperately tried to focus on the problem. And off all the delectable places Rafe might put those lush, gorgeous lips.
The Archangel’s curator, Arturo, was bound to throw a fit when he saw that his prize sculptures, on loan through the New Year, had been tampered with. Worse, the insurance risk was enormous. She’d done a cursory scan of the marble to see if she might be able to move it herself or secure help from her crew, but there was no way around the problem. She’d have to call Arturo down from his lofty perch in the hotel’s third-floor art museum and get him to put a specialized team on repositioning them.
She dragged out her phone, already preparing herself for the inevitable shooting she’d receive as messenger, when she caught sight of security. Waving down the large, beefy figure, she continued to pace around the sculptures after catching his eye.
How had someone managed this unnoticed? She’d been there when the statues were set in place. Each easily weighted at least three thousand pounds, the Italian marble hewn into the erotically lusty figures that now stood before her. Where their original placement had suggested a sensual feast, sexy nymphs lounging or traipsing through the lush garden she’d wrapped around them, the new placement suggested raw sex and something decidedly dirty.
Like a public shaming. Or the ravages of original sin.
The ringing of the phone in her ear ended, replaced with Arturo’s clipped voice as his voice-mail message rattled off in her ear. Unwilling to linger, she ordered him down to the lobby and shoved her phone back in her cargos. Like she had time for this.
Just like she didn’t have time for dates or kisses or erotic images of Rafe.
The guard she’d motioned for still stood at the opposite end of the hall and she waved him down once more, adding a wolf whistle for good measure. Was the guy blind? And what was taking him so long? He’d be in trouble enough for leaving the statues in the first place, but to ignore a direct request?
“Why, Evangeline, I had no idea you’d planned such a fascinating display for the promenade.”
The dark voice, rich as sin, seemed to float over the back of her neck like a brand. The erotic images she’d fought against rose up once more, a tantalizing replacement for the side of beef who continued to ignore her from the opposite end of the corridor.
Turning on her heel, Evangeline went into damage control mode. “I did no such thing!”
“I’m not saying I don’t like it.”
“You shouldn’t like it. Someone’s tampered with the sculptures and I can’t seem to find Arturo and security’s gone MIA.”
The litany was enough to draw his focus off the sexy art and Rafe’s brows lowered. “Where’s security?”
“I have no idea. I’ve been flagging that hulk down there for the past few minutes and he’s ignoring me.” Evangeline glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see the end of the corridor empty, the mountain of a man nowhere in sight. “I… Where is he?”
“Where’s security?” Rafe’s gaze sharpened, his dark eyes sweeping the breadth and depth of the corridor. “Where’s anyone, for that matter?”
“I don’t—” She broke off, a strange, insistent pounding in her ears in direct counterpoint to her confusion. Where was everyone?
The Archangel lobby was rarely empty, although traffic dimmed considerably during the overnight hours. But it did not vanish in the middle of the morning, nor did the air hum with a malevolent sort of silence.
“What’s going on?”
“How long have you been here?” Rafe’s question was sharp, at odds with his subtle steps as he moved closer toward her.
“Only a few minutes. I wanted to refresh some of the flowers in here and then I found this.” A wave of embarrassment heated her skin, creeping up her neck toward her cheeks. “It’s not how they were originally placed.”
“Not at all.”
“But how could someone move them unnoticed?”
“You could.”
Those
