Black Opal Read Free

she protested.
    “I know you are, shug, just reaction,” Bella soothed.
    As Sabina pressed the elevator button, she bit her lips together, fighting to still the tremors in her hands. “Thank you both for coming to the opening,” she said as they shuffled into the elevator.
    “Wild horses couldn’t have kept us away,” Bella assured her. She patted her hair as she studied her reflection in the gleaming silver interior.
    The elevator settled on the fifth floor and the doors glided open. The women stepped out and walked the few steps down the hall to Sabina’s suite.
    Sabina inserted her room card. “Thanks for everything.”
    “Well just come in and have a quick look around,” Maureen said, pushing the door open.
    “That really isn’t necessary,” Sabina protested.
    “Of course it’s not,” Maureen agreed and walked inside, Bella on her heels. They did a quick check of the suite.
    Bella went to the bedroom and looked under the bed.
    When they were both satisfied there were no intruders, Bella and Maureen said their good nights.
    “Remember we’re right next door. We can be here in seconds,” Maureen said from the doorway.
    Sabina walked to her chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of jeans. Reaching in the pocket, she drew out her amulet and put it on her arm. Power surged through her. “I’ll be just fine.”
    * * * * *
     
    She’d waited months to get the three of them together so that one of them would die while the other two watched, helpless, just as she’d been helpless to save her father. Too bad that good-looking Italian had decided to go all macho and throw himself in harm’s way to save the singer. Ooh, she loved tough men. Desire coiled in the pit of her stomach. She just might have to get a piece of that.

Chapter Two
     
    Adam sat his scotch glass on the marble fireplace mantel. He leaned against it and looked around. His uncle’s study reeked of cigar smoke and money. A beautiful red and blue oriental rug covered the floor. The dark gleaming bookcases reflected the image of expensive leather-bound books with gold lettered titles. A boat being tossed by savage waves hung over the fireplace and an Isabelle Tremaine painting of a rearing white stallion adorned the wall behind the huge desk. It was a man’s room, masculine like its owner.
    In the gleaming wood-paneled study, Johnny Morelly sat behind his huge mahogany desk. “And you’re sure it wasn’t an accident?”
    “Oh, it was made to look like one, the outside wires were frayed but Lewis, the club manager, swears he had everything checked out last week. I believe him. The man’s a natural worrier. He’s like a mother hen who misplaced a chick. Always fussing around the club to make sure everything is in perfect working order, no safety issues, no bookkeeping errors.” Adam shrugged.
    Johnny leaned back in his chair causing the soft black leather to sigh. “Do you think our competitor Joe Santos had anything to do with it? Joe controls most of the action in Charlotte.”
    Adam shook his head. “Too subtle for Joe, his men break kneecaps.”
    “My men have broken their share of kneecaps.”
    Adam grinned. “That was in the old days. You’ve grown with the times. Plus you’ve gone legit.” His voice casual, his eyes hooded, he searched his uncle’s features.
    Johnny burst out laughing, a deep belly laugh and gave his nephew a dismissive wave. “Gottcha. You don’t have to worry about that, boy. Okay, occasionally a favor’s called in and like the godfather, I have to respect it but I don’t dabble in anything that’s not legitimate these days. Though that don’t mean I don’t have to bring pressure to bear on occasion,” he added.
    The tensed muscles in Adam’s body relaxed. He smiled at his uncle.
    His uncle got up, gave him an affectionate hug then went and sat back down. “Don’t turn on the charm for me, boy. I know that smile of yours has women falling into your bed but it doesn’t do a thing for