Page 22 of Wife for a Week

The drums settled into a steady, driving rhythm and a magnificent Chinese lion appeared, bigger and more elaborate than Hallie had ever seen. He strutted, roared, and considered the poles set out before him, each pair of poles that little bit higher than the next. He disdained the lowest poles, sniffed at the next, wove his way through the third, and sat before the fourth. He groomed himself lazily, as he studied the tallest of the poles, poles that were taller than Nick, and then with a flick of his tail and an unbelievable leap he was standing on top of them and along with it all came the bold beating of drums. The colour red was everywhere; on decorations, on dresses, on the jackets of the wait staff who circulated with a never-ending supply of drinks and finger food. The wait staff. Hallie stared hard at a waiter heading towards them with an empty tray. He looked familiar, irritatingly familiar.

‘Nick,’ she whispered, disengaging her arm from Jasmine’s and tugging on his sleeve. Wasn’t that the waiter from the restaurant? The one who’d served the poisoned crab? ‘Nick!’ But Nick was engrossed in the lion dancing. And then the waiter was almost upon them, one hand holding the tray aloft, his other hand close to his side and in it was something that gleamed with a dull black shine. Nick was turning towards her now, but it was too late to warn him. If it was a gun, the waiter had a clear shot. Hallie did the only thing that came to mind.

She charged the approaching waiter and tackled him, gridiron style, and they went tumbling to the ground, both of them, the crowd parting as onlookers scrambled to get out of the way. Some were quick enough, others weren’t. Two other guests hit the ground, both of them men, both of them cursing, but not nearly as much as Nick who was wading through the wreckage, trying to get to her. The waiter scrambled to his feet and rabbited his way through the crowd, his tray and whatever had been in his hand lying forgotten on the floor.

‘It was the waiter from the crab restaurant! He was aiming something at you,’ she said breathlessly as Nick helped her to her feet. Kai was beside them now, barking orders into a cell phone. ‘I thought he had a gun!’

‘You mean this?’ said Kai, picking up a small black cylinder that gleamed dully.

It was metal. It was black. It looked like the barrel of a gun. But it wasn’t a gun. She glanced at Nick to see how he was taking this latest development. Not well. ‘It certainly looked like a gun,’ she said with a cheesy smile. ‘From a distance.’

‘Actually, it is a gun of sorts,’ said Kai. ‘It dispenses darts.’

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Good to know.’

‘Are you hurt?’ asked Nick grimly.

Her head was pounding, her arm aching. It was five minutes to twelve. ‘Hurt? Me? Of course not.’

Kai was making sure no one else was injured. Jasmine was soothing ruffled tempers. Nick was looking at her, his face set. ‘I can’t believe you crash-tackled him,’ he said at last. ‘Don’t you have any concern for your own safety whatsoever? What were you thinking?’

‘I was thinking of you!’ she said heatedly. ‘I thought he was going to shoot you! I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.’

‘Um, excuse me,’ said Jasmine tentatively, ‘but I thought we might go and find my father and then get you both home. He’s probably out on the balcony waiting for the fireworks to start.’

‘Who needs to go outside?’ muttered Hallie. ‘They’ve already started in here.’ But she followed Jasmine and Kai out to the balcony with Nick at her side and stood where Kai decided it was best to put them, backs to the wall in an alcove.

‘Another attempt?’ said John when he joined them and Kai told him of the waiter and the dart gun. ‘I had hoped we were being overly suspicious.’

‘I wish I knew who was behind it all,’ said Nick.

‘Yeah,’ said Hallie glumly. ‘Pity the waiter got away.’ Lara Croft wouldn’t have let the waiter get away. Lara Croft would have nailed the waiter and then they’d have known who was behind the attempts on Nick’s life. ‘I wasn’t really thinking straight when I tackled that waiter,’ she told Nick apologetically.

‘Finally, she sees reason,’ he murmured.

‘I should have pinned him down.’

Nick stared at her incredulously. John Tey smothered a chuckle.

‘I have our people looking for him,’ said Kai. ‘We’ll find him.’

People were crowding onto the balcony. It was almost midnight, and, as far as the Chinese were concerned, the start of a bright new year. As far as Hallie was concerned it was the end of a long day with more ups and downs in it than a triple-loop roller coaster. ‘Two more minutes,’ she said, glancing at the glowing neon clock set high on the hotel wall.

‘I shall wish for a better new year for you,’ Jasmine told Nick earnestly. ‘One without assassins.’

‘Thanks, Jasmine.’ Nick’s features softened before hardening again as his gaze rested challengingly on Hallie. ‘You could try wishing for some more sense.’

Ha! Hallie smiled sweetly. ‘My wish is that the vase I bought you turns up tomorrow.’ Then she could stuff him in it.

‘What vase?’ said Kai, his head snapping round as he pinned her with his gaze.

‘The one I bought for him at Lucky Plaza,’ she said. ‘When you and Jasmine were in the bathroom.’ Kai was looking at her in disbelief. ‘Separate bathrooms,’ she added hastily. ‘As opposed to being together in the same bathroom.’

‘You bought a vase,’ said Kai. ‘For Nick. From the corner shop near the bathrooms in Lucky Plaza.’

Hallie nodded.

‘A funeral vase.’

Hallie nodded again. ‘Yes, that’s right. The one in the window.’

‘And the salesman let you?’ said Kai.

‘Well, he took some persuading, but, yes. I arranged to have it delivered before the New Year, but it hasn’t arrived.’

Kai was turning to John, shaking his head and muttering something. John was staring at her, open-mouthed, as if frozen to the spot. Nick and Jasmine looked as baffled by their reactions as Hallie felt. ‘What?’ she said uneasily. ‘What’s wrong?’

Ten. The countdown to midnight began in Cantonese.

Nine. ‘The shop you speak of sells funeral vases, sure enough,’ said John.

Eight. ‘But they don’t sell them empty.’

Seven. ‘What do you mean, not empty?’ she said.

Six. ‘The one I bought was empty.’

Five. ‘Well, they don’t deliver them empty,’ said Kai.

Four. ‘When you bought Nick that vase…

Three. ‘…you ordered his execution.’

Two. ‘I what?’

One. ‘That’s why someone’s been trying to kill him.’

Oh, dear.

The crowd roared as fireworks erupted in the sky, huge blasts of colour raining down from the heavens, each one more spectacular than the last, and all around them people were laughing and embracing, kissing and shaking hands, their faces alight with pleasure and the glow from the fireworks.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. They were all staring at her: Jasmine, Kai, Nick and John; all waiting for her to speak, but she had no idea what to say. Her hands were trembling, hell, her entire body was trembling with a mixture of fear and disbelief. This was a joke, right? It had to be a joke. But the expression on Kai’s face assured her it wasn’t.

A fresh blast of fireworks opened up the sky with a crack that made her jump; a kaleidoscope of red, green and gold, while her gut roiled and her head ached with the sure knowledge that in buying Nick that damned vase, she’d made a huge and deadly mistake.

‘I—’ What on earth could she say? She looked to Nick. ‘You—’ Nope, she still couldn’t find any words. She put a hand to her aching head and shrugged, still helplessly enmeshed in Nick’s gaze. Good Lord, she’d put a contract out on him. How the hell was she supposed to explain that?

She couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever. It was just too bizarre.

But they were all still waiting. Waiting for her to say something. Anything. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said finally.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HALLIE had never pegged Nick as the coldly furious type and he wasn’t. His was more of a simmering, bubbling fury and only his iron control, and quite possibly the presence of Kai and the Teys, kept it contained. They’d left as soon as the fireworks were over and the drive home had been mercifully conversation-free. Once at the villa she and Nick had said their thank yous and their goodnights and headed for the bedroom, and once they were there, Nick wasted no time in shrugging off his jacket and tie and opening a couple of shirt buttons.

Hallie eyed him warily as she set her purse down on the counter and folded her wrap. Her brothers had tempers, all of them. She was no stranger to eruptions of the masculine variety. Pete’s was like a summer storm, all noise and flash and gone in an instant. Luke’s involved pacing, pointing and a great deal of arm-waving. Jake’s was controlled and biting, and Tris…Tris didn’t do temper very often, but when he did he flayed people raw. Hallie was hoping, really hoping, that Nick was going to be a little less like Tris and a lot more like any one of her other brothers in that regard.

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