Kissed Blind (Hot Pursuit #2)(4)

“Aw, you think I’m fine? I’ve always suspected.”

I made a gagging sound in the back of my throat. “Anyhoo… do you think Camille Pierce is here too? You have to be excited you could meet her.”

“I mean, yeah, it would be cool if we got to meet her. She’s probably ten times more pretentious than any of the other women we’ve protected, but Cavanaugh didn’t mention her.”

Despite Vance trying to play it cool, the prospect of meeting Camille Pierce had to pique his interest a little. She was gorgeous to the nth degree, talented and her body was ridiculous, absolutely nothing a man couldn’t adore.

“So, where are we headed?”

“They’re staying in a penthouse in the high-rise on the bank of the river.”

I snapped my head toward him. “Why did you drive so far north if I could have just met you there? This was totally out of the way for you.”

“Pop is still in the hospital. I wanted to visit with him before the day started. I was over here when Cavanaugh called.”

“Your dad’s not out yet? I thought he was supposed to be released yesterday.”

“He had a little set back, but when you crack open a seventy year old man’s chest and thread coils into his arteries, it can take longer to bounce back than usual. Once he puts down the salami and meatballs Ma keeps smuggling into him, he’ll get better. He’s gotta start eating some fruits and vegetables.”

Worry had become a permanent fixture in Vance’s voice since his dad, Sal, had had a heart attack a week prior. He’d made it through surgery with flying colors, no doubt a nod to his gladiator ancestors, but Vance wouldn’t stop worrying until his dad was resting comfortably at home.

“Good luck convincing your mom she can’t do something.”

Vance’s mother was as bullheaded as they came. Think of a parent trying to rationalize with a three year old that they can’t have candy for dinner and multiply it times a thousand. That was telling Teresina DeLuca she couldn’t do something.

“That’s a whole other issue entirely. She’s killing me.” He shook his head.

“She’s got a stubborn streak, like her son.” I punched his shoulder, and he snorted. “When do they think he’s going to get out now?”

“A couple more days. He had a fever last night, but it seemed to be under control this morning. Probably a little infection. If this doesn’t kill him, it might kill me.” He gripped the steering wheel tightly and moved one hand onto the gear shift.

“Don’t talk like that. He’s strong and he’ll be stronger than ever soon. You’ll see.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.” I squeezed his hand.

“Oh, Ma wants you and Gabe to come for Sunday dinner. She knows the family will want to visit with Pop, and even though he should probably be resting, she won’t cancel it. You think you can swing that with Mr. Wonderful?”

Sunday dinner with the DeLuca’s was a misnomer. It was more like an all-day eating affair that stretched from early afternoon until late evening, and I loved it.

“You think you can manage to not kill each other?”

“I can manage it if he can.”

I opened my eyes wide and put my hand to his forehead. “You sure you’re not sick?”

“Ha. Ha. No.” He raised the corners of his mouth into a quick smile and dropped it. God, I hated when he did that. “Anyway, you think you can make it? Ma’s been wanting to have you over again forever.”

“Of course, we’d love to come.”

“All right then, settled.” He nodded and turned the radio up. We drove along, and I sang Meghan Trainor’s latest hit at the top of my lungs for our entertainment.

We pulled into a parking spot next to a tall building on the edge of the Ohio River. The sun was high in the sky, and the muddy waters danced with millions of lights. We took a moment to review any weak points in security and potential blind spots. When we’d covered everything, we were ready to meet Oliver Pierce. I tried to calm my skittering pulse by taking a few deep breaths.

Vance and I approached a set of glass doors and entered the lobby of the building. Twisted ficus trees and palm ferns were poised in the corners. Marble tiles led the way to a desk near the elevators at the back of the room, and we introduced ourselves to the security guard, Barry, seated behind it.

Barry was a round-bellied, mild-mannered man. He verified our names on a sheet in front of him. One phone call later for confirmation, and he escorted us over to the correct set of elevators. The doors parted, and shortly after, we arrived on the twenty-seventh floor. We approached a lacquered red door with a placard that read “Swanson.”

“You ready?” Vance asked.

“Of course I am.” I kept my voice steady and cool, even though a giddy little girl danced inside.

Vance raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before he had a chance. A young, heart-shaped faced girl stood before us.

“Hi, I’m Cici,” she said in a high-pitched, childlike voice. “I’m Oliver’s personal assistant. Please, come in.” She shut the door and led us into the foyer, her short, silky hair swayed like onyx corn silk.

I took her hand first. “I’m Diana Cain. It’s nice to meet you.” Remarkably flawless skin surrounded her radiant blue, China doll eyes. They were some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.