Jasmine started to tell him about his father, the man she loved.
'Nicholas and I met for the first time in a jazz club in downtown Chicago. Believe me, I was not there to enjoy the music. I'd come to kill a man.'
'You came to kill someone? Why?'
'The bastard had raped my younger sister.' She looked away, fighting the tears welling in her eyes, but gravity won. 'She was only nine years old . . . and I could not stop it from happening to her too.' Anger flared, a distant hurt revisited. 'My uncle had a gambling debt and she became part of the deal when he could not pay.'
'You said you couldn't keep it from happening to her too. Did you . . . ?' Hearing the words aloud sickened him. He couldn't finish his question.
'You are a good listener . . . like your father.' A sad smile came and went. 'Yes. I endured my uncle for too many years. It was too late for me, but when I saw it happening again, I lost it. I tracked down the man who violated her. And I unleashed all the rage I had in me for all those years. To this day I don't remember much of the details, except for one thing. I remember your father.'
She wiped her face with her fingers. It took her a moment to start again.
'He forced the blade from my hands and kept whispering in my ear. I don't remember what he said, but my heart slowed and I collapsed into his arms. He took me to his home, made me feel safe for the first time in my life. He bathed me, washed my hair, and put me into bed. A guest room. Never once did he take advantage of me. I became his lover much later . . . when I wanted and needed him far more than my next breath.'
'And the police never came for you?'
'No. Nicky took care of that too. I had come for one thing and didn't care what happened to me afterward, but he became my witness for self-defense. He was so convincing, others came forward too. I don't know how he pulled it off, but he did.'
'And you never saw your uncle again?'
'We crossed paths once more. On the day of his funeral. It seems my uncle met with an unexplained and most peculiar accident. Closed casket.' This time Jasmine's smile stayed. 'I've been with Nicky ever since.'
Jasmine went on, telling him more about his father. He laid back against his pillows, trying to catch up on a lifetime missed. Although his father was nothing like him in the things that really mattered, like the ethics of right and wrong, he saw bits and pieces of himself reflected in her many stories and felt an eerie connection to a man he'd never met. And with her guard down, Jasmine took on a whole new level of beauty. She had a delicate shyness to her, an extraordinary innocence he found captivating. And with her as a portal, he saw his father in a different light.
How long they talked, he would never remember. Christian didn't exactly hold up his end of the conversation. He faded in and out to the sounds of her voice, his eyelids heavy. He found it hard to stay alert.
Jasmine touched his arm and smiled as he jerked awake.
'Huh? What happened?'
She shook her head. 'You know, we are more alike than you know, Christian.'
He fought the drugs in his system. It took him a moment to focus.
'I sense you have a place in your heart no one sees, perhaps not even you. I hide such a place from Nicky . . . and he from me. But lovers should not have such secrets from each other.'
Jasmine had summed up his relationship with Raven. He had yet to open his heart completely to her, to trust Raven with his dark places.
'What if I never get my second chance with Nicky?'
'You'll get it, Jasmine. Hell, we both need a second chance.' He sounded more confident than he felt. 'Sometimes I think we get one defining moment to say what's in our hearts. And if we don't grab it, that moment rolls by on a one-way trip.'
He could tell by the look on her face, she wondered the same as he did. Had that opportunity come and gone? They both had too much unsaid and too much undone with the ones they loved. After a long silence, Jasmine rolled off his bed and headed for his door. She turned for one last look. He had no idea what she was thinking.
'You okay?' he asked.
Jasmine had a pitiful expression on her face, a depth of sadness uniquely her own. Without a word, she slipped through the door and shut it behind her. Christian stared at the closed door for a long time, until the pain meds washed over him in a second wave. He slumped back onto the pillows and shut his eyes, pulling the sheets to his chest.
'No . . . guess I'm not either.'
The Next Morning
Day Seven
Barefoot and dressed in faded jeans with a white T-shirt, Christian stumbled from his room with the worst hangover in the history of the known world. Why had he been so worthy? He could have done without the experience. Not even a quick shower did any good to rake the cobwebs from his brain. He leaned against the doorjamb to his room to steady himself and dragged fingers through his damp hair bleary eyed. Every hair follicle ached to the touch. Even his teeth hurt.
And to compound his misery, the sun glared through the windows to the suite, nearly blinding him. He squinted and opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short when he saw Jasmine. Images of her in his bed catapulted through his mind, most of them a blur.
He felt the rush of heat to his cheeks and neck.
'Did anything happen? I remember . . .' He almost clarified his point, but stopped shy of full disclosure. 'Well, not sure what I remember. Maybe it was a dream.'
'Admit it, you fantasized about me. Plenty of men do, my love.' On the sofa, she sipped her coffee with feet up, winking over the brim of her cup. Her usual attitude doled out in heaping doses, except for a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. Jasmine looked as if she were holding her breath, waiting for his reply.
A strained moment passed. Christian chose the path of least resistance.
'Sorry to burst your bubble, but there's only one woman who occupies my three pounds of gray matter these days.' His thoughts turned to Raven. 'And at the moment, she's not taking my calls.'
Jasmine set her coffee down and gave him her full attention. 'Funny. I never thought a man used his brain with a woman.' She smiled, but the gesture quickly faded. 'Your detective could use a lesson in forgiveness. Love should not be discarded so lightly.'
An awkward silence.
'I know you mean well,' he said, 'but stay out of my personal life ... please.'
A throbbing pain pulsed over his left eyebrow, but damned if he'd let her know how much he hurt. Catching a whiff of coffee, he walked over to the wet bar and poured himself a cup. Black.
'Thank God some things are no-brainers,' he muttered, and took a gulp.
When the hotel phone rang, he winced at the shrill sound, but Jasmine got up to answer it.
'Hello?' She raised her chin and turned her eyes on him. 'I see.' After a long moment she added, 'No, that'll be fine.'
When she hung up the phone, Christian asked, 'Who was that? You look like we got trouble.'
Jasmine took a deep breath. 'Yeah, the worst kind.'
Without explanation, she hurried to her bedroom. He heard her rummaging through her things, but she rushed out, heading for the door.
'Hey, where are you going?' He narrowed his eyes. 'Who was that on the phone?'
'I know we've had our issues with trust . . .' She smiled as she stood in the open doorway. A strange, sad smile. '. . . but this time, you're gonna have to trust me. Some things you just have to do alone.'
