down onto the pavement and claim her in the most elemental way.
The force of his response caught him off guard. He was not in a standard postburn. He knew that condition, knew how to handle it. This was different. He didn’t just want to get laid; he wanted Celinda. No other woman would do tonight. If he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want anyone else.
You’re in deep trouble. Just get her upstairs and get the hell out of here before you do something that will really screw things up.
Betty Furnell’s door popped open when they entered the downstairs hall. Betty looked out, beaming.
“Oh, hello there, you two,” she sang out cheerfully. “Did you have a nice evening?”
“Lovely,” Celinda said.
“Gracious, what happened to your dress, dear?”
“There was a slight accident,” Celinda said.
“It’s ruined.”
“Yes,” Celinda agreed, “I’m afraid it is. Good night, Mrs. Furnell.”
“Good night. Sleep tight.” Betty closed the door with obvious reluctance.
“Be prepared to be cornered again when you go back downstairs,” Celinda warned softly.
“I’ll be ready,” he promised.
He walked her upstairs to her apartment door and waited while she dug out her key.
“I hope Araminta is home,” she said.
“If not, I’m sure she’ll return by dawn. When Max takes off, he’s always back for breakfast.”
He took the key from her, rezzed the lock, and opened the door.
Celinda stepped into the hall. And stopped, stiffening.
“I’ve been burglarized.”
He looked past her into the small space. The two drawers in the hall table had been removed, the contents dumped on the floor. From where he was standing, he could see a portion of the living room. The sofa and chairs were overturned. Damp night air wafted in from the open balcony door. The point of entry for the intruders, Davis thought.
“My stuff,” Celinda wailed. She started to rush into the apartment.
Davis grabbed her arm. “Hold it. You’re not going in until I make certain there’s no one else inside.”
“But—”
“This is what I do, remember? I keep telling you, I’m in the security business.” He moved into the hall. “Wait here.”
“I hesitate to interfere with a professional doing his job, but what, exactly, are you going to do if the guy has a gun?”
“I’ll show him mine.” Davis leaned down and drew the small pistol out of his ankle holster.
Celinda looked at the weapon with an enigmatic expression. “That looks like a mini mag-rez.”
“It is. Latest and greatest technology.”
“It’s illegal for private citizens to own mag-rezes,” she said very primly.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
He moved into the apartment and made a quick, thorough survey and then went back to the front door.
“All clear,” he said. “Looks like they came and went through the balcony door.”
“Oh, dear, the dress.”
He went blank. “What dress?”
“My bridesmaid dress,” she said, slipping past him. “If the burglars stole it or destroyed it, I’m doomed. Rachel will never forgive me if I don’t show up with that dress.”
“Fancy pink thing covered in plastic? I saw it when I checked the closet. Looked fine to me.”
“I’ve got to be sure.”
She rushed down the hall to the bedroom.
Something didn’t add up, he decided. She didn’t even like the pink dress. Why all the fuss?
Intrigued, he watched the mirror above the hall table. From this angle he could see her hurrying into the bedroom. She didn’t go to the closet. Instead, she went down on her knees and peered under the bed.
Davis went on into the living room and started righting the furniture.
Celinda returned a short time later, noticeably calmer.
“Dress okay?” he asked politely.
“Yes, it’s fine,” she said. “I’ve got to call the police.” She picked up the phone.
“Forget it.”
“What do you mean?” She stopped, whipping around to face him. “I know the cops probably won’t be able to do much. I’ve heard that when it comes to home burglaries, there’s not a lot they can do. But I should at least file a report.”
“Celinda,” he said wearily, “the reason you’re not going to call the cops is because this is Guild business.”
Very slowly she replaced the receiver.
“Damn,” she whispered. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Chapter 9
“OKAY,” SHE SAID, SINKING DOWN ONTO ONE OF THE kitchen stools, “I agree, this break-in on top of that bizarre scene in the lane with that man in the cap is probably not a coincidence.”
Davis had removed his jacket and was methodically straightening the room.
“No, it isn’t,” he said. “Someone is looking for the relic.”
Glumly she watched him right an armchair. “I still don’t understand why we can’t call the cops.”
“Because they aren’t very good at handling this kind of thing.” He picked up a small drawer and put it back into the end table beside the chair. “They’ll treat this as just another routine break-in, and that won’t get us anywhere. Also, they don’t have the manpower to provide you with twenty-four-hour security, which is what you’re going to need.”
Shock rolled through her. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about a bodyguard.”
She stared at him, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her.
Her new career was doomed. Mrs. Takahashi had been very understanding about the fiasco in Frequency City, but she would almost certainly draw the line at one of her marriage consultants showing up for work with a bodyguard. To say nothing of the wedding, she thought. Another wave of alarm hit her. Dear heaven, her family would be horrified if they found out that the Cadence Guild had thought it necessary to supply her with a bodyguard.
“That’s…that’s impossible,” she managed.
Davis swept out one hand to indicate the vandalized apartment. “Whoever did this obviously knows that you were the last person to have the relic in your possession. We have to assume that you are in some danger until we get the thing back.”
“But that might be never. There’s no telling what Araminta did with it.”
“I think we can count on Araminta showing up with that damn artifact sooner or later.”
She folded her arms very tightly beneath her breasts, hugging herself. “Just long enough for me to lose my job.”
“The Guild will see to it that you aren’t fired.”
She shuddered. “Don’t even think about asking Mercer Wyatt to make a phone call to Mrs. Takahashi. The last thing I want is for her to keep me on the payroll because Wyatt threatened her. It would be utterly humiliating.”
“He’s not a mob boss, Celinda.”
“Okay, so maybe the Cadence Guild isn’t into the traditional gang businesses like drugs and prostitution. That doesn’t make it an upstanding, respectable business corporation.”
