But Chance couldn't say that, of course. He couldn't tell Isa that he'd been watching her long past what his initial reconnaissance had required. Or that while she'd been in the shower earlier, he'd lain in her bed just so her scent could wrap all around him.
Yes, whatever word applied to Chance's condition, he had it bad.
"I was following Robert for a chance to get him alone," was what Chance settled on. "So I was near enough to the restaurant earlier to hear what happened. None of them ever knew, and neither did you. I've had some practice with this, Isabella. You can trust me."
He so very much wanted her to trust him, because his deliberate vagueness and these multiple unfinished sentences were wearing. If there was one thing he'd learned in his century-plus of living, it was that honesty was a cornerstone in a relationship. Women would forgive many things, but lies were at the top of their list for unpardonable sins. If Isa demanded more direct answers from him, Chance would give them to her. No matter if she was ready to hear them or not.
She chewed on her lip again. Chance watched her and wanted to do the same.
He might be having that "so I'm a vampire," conversation sooner rather than later with her. Inhaling the fragrance of her arousal earlier had almost outed him from his coffin, because he'd felt his eyes start to change and fangs press lustfully against his gums of their own accord. Even now, his blood wanted to rush to a particular place, and Chance had to concentrate to send it elsewhere. He pitied human men who had no control over that. The ability to direct his blood where he wanted it to go was just another perk of being a vampire. It beat the hell out of walking around trying to conceal a hard-on, and on the flip side, no vampire ever had to worry about impotence.
"Okay," Isa said finally. "I'll let you try to work your mojo on Robert to locate my brother, but if you find out where he is, you call me, understand? Because if something goes wrong-"
"Nothing will," Chance interrupted her firmly.
She gave him that look again. The one that said plenty of things had gone wrong in her life. Chance remembered reading that her parents died in a small plane crash while vacationing in the Bahamas when Isa was just thirteen. Her grandmother had been the one to raise her and Frasier. Yes, Isa would have learned young that life promised no happy endings, but in this case, Chance could at least promise he wouldn't make any mistakes with Frazier.
If he was even still alive.
Chance pushed that thought away. He'd assume Frazier was alive until he was shown his dead body. The fact that Ritchie and Paul hadn't known where he was when he asked them the other night-not that they remembered the body they'd wrapped in plastic had sat up and interrogated them, of course-concerned Chance. He would have thought Robert's top two meatheads would have been privy to that information, but maybe Robert played things closer to the vest. It would be smart of him, considering how weak-minded Smelly and Bowling Ball were. Robert himself was made of sterner stuff. Chance figured he'd have to drink his blood first to get what he wanted out of him, whereas Ritchie and Paul only required the light in his gaze to spill their secrets.
"Nothing will go wrong," Chance repeated, and meant it. If Frazier Spaga was still alive, he'd bring him back that way to his sister. If he was already dead... then Chance would see to it that everyone who'd had a part in his demise met the same fate as well.
Isa gave him a level look. "I'm going to hold you to that."
Chapter 4
Isa sat across from her grandmother and watched as she made tea. It was their Saturday afternoon ritual that Isa would have gladly done herself, but her grandmother was still fiercely independent and wouldn't hear of it. Her only capitulation to Isa's concerns about her health was to wear the LifeCall alert Isa had gotten her. Isa noted her thinness and the translucence of her flesh that was common with advanced age, and had to blink back tears.
She'll be gone soon, Isa thought with a stab of grief. It was doubly hard, since her grandmother had been both mother and father to her since Isa was thirteen, and Frazier even younger at nine. Then a mere five years after her parents had died, Isa's grandfather passed as well.
Some people would be broken from grief, but Greta Spaga dried her tears after her husband's funeral and said that death was simply part of life. That prolonged mourning only stole the good memories of the person who was gone. Isa doubted she'd have the same strength.
Now, over ten years later, Frazier was missing and Isa would have agreed to almost anything to keep her grandmother from facing another crushing family loss. The old woman might be strong as steel emotionally, but there was still only so much one person could take.
There was only so much Isa could take as well. Robert never said the words directly, but Isa knew that her brother wasn't the only collateral he was holding against her. She'd seen Paul and Ritchie drive by her grandmother's a few times when they knew Isa was there to spot them. Their actions screamed that more than Frazier would pay if Isa refused to do what Robert wanted.
"Here you are," her grandmother said, setting down Isa's cup of tea.
"So tell me about Chance," she said, trying to distract herself and genuinely wanting to know more about the sexy oddball.
Her grandmother smiled as she set her own cup down with more of a clatter.
"Downright tasty looking, isn't he?" Greta asked slyly.
Isa almost choked on a swallow. There was no mistaking the wicked note to her grandmother's voice.
"I meant, where'd you meet him? What does he do for a living? And how long have you known about Frazier, while we're at it?"
"Hmm, where'd I meet Chance? A long time ago in Louisiana. What does he do for a living?" Greta paused to cackle. "He doesn't do anything for a living, dear. How long have I known about Frazier? Since he didn't call me on Tuesday three weeks ago to check in. Frazier always calls me on Tuesdays. He hasn't missed one in the past five years."
Isa's mouth dropped. Her brother Frazier, who couldn't remember anyone's birthday and who hadn't held a steady job since Melrose Place was a hit, called their grandmother faithfully every Tuesday?
Greta tsked. "Don't look so shocked. Frazier's a bit high-strung, but so was I at his age. He's settled down a lot, Isa. You shouldn't judge him so harshly."
Now Isa did choke on her tea, lightly spraying herself with it. Once she'd regained her breath, she was glad it happened. Or she might have shouted, "High-strung? Associating with crime lords is a bit more than high-strung!"
But her grandmother didn't need the added worry of learning about how Frazier had cozened up to Robert these past few months. Hell, Isa had Frazier to thank for the fact that Robert had even stepped foot in her restaurant in the first place. Sure, Frazier tried to dissuade Robert once he saw the interest Robert immediately took in her, but by then, it had been too late.