Swept Aside

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Swept Aside Page 21

by Sharon Sala


  “Today.”

  “Any leads?”

  “Yeah, a delivery van and its driver have gone missing. His last known stop was two blocks from the scene of the accident. It’s a little too coincidental to ignore.”

  “Was Drake injured?” Nick asked.

  “Best we can tell, he was the only one in the police van who was able to walk away.”

  Nick cursed. “What’s up with that? He lives through a tornado unscathed. Survives a massive pileup. I don’t get it.”

  “Yeah, well…shit happens,” Babcock said.

  Nick felt sick, but given this news, there was something he knew that Babcock needed to know, too.

  “If you want to catch him, send a team back to Amalie Pope’s house. Drake will come back here.”

  Surprise colored Babcock’s voice.

  “Why?

  “He’s got a hard-on for her that won’t go away, and now a grudge to boot. He blames her for our capture.”

  “Well, he’s right. She is responsible,” Babcock snapped.

  “Thing is, Lou Drake doesn’t care that any normal person would have tried to escape and call the police. In his mind, if he’d gotten to her the way he wanted to, she wouldn’t have lived, which means we would have escaped. You savvy?”

  “Hell, yes, I’m savvy,” Babcock muttered. “Damn it. I hate stupid perps.”

  “All I’m saying is, if you want him back in custody, get someone down here fast. Hide him out so no one knows he’s around, and have him wait for the little bastard to show up.”

  “What if he doesn’t?” Babcock asked.

  “If he’s able, he will come back here.”

  “The Louisiana State Police will be interested. I’ll pass your message on to them. In the meantime, I know you’re on R and R, but since you’re already in Louisiana, if I send a couple of men down there, I don’t suppose I could talk you into heading this up from our end? We were the ones who filed charges. We were going to prosecute. I want the bastard back behind bars.”

  “Since I’m less than fifteen minutes from Amalie Pope’s house, I’d be happy to help out,” Nick drawled, then heard a soft snort.

  “Don’t tell me you two had something going during all this?” Babcock asked.

  “I’m not going to tell you anything except that I’ll head up the security detail.”

  “Well, hell, could this get any more convoluted?”

  “I’ll let you know,” Nick said, and disconnected.

  His excitement at seeing Amalie again had just been dashed. He didn’t know how she was going to react to being told she was back in danger, but he did know that this time he wasn’t leaving her side. No more trying to hide his identity or maintain cover. He’d been thinking about getting out of undercover work anyway. This just might be the universe’s way of telling him it was time.

  He started to try her number, then decided against it. This wasn’t the kind of news to give anyone over the phone. Instead he dropped the cell phone into a cup holder in the console and stomped on the gas.

  Amalie felt aimless. She’d put her house in order. The loose ends of her life were in the act of being tied up. All the papers regarding her inheritance had been signed. Everything connected to this property was now in her name. The insurance agent had written her car off as a total loss, and as soon as she got the urge to look, she was cleared to shop for a new one.

  Just before noon, her telephone rang. She was so startled at the sound that she jumped. Then she wondered who would be calling—hopefully Nick—and ran to answer.

  It was Louis.

  “The phones are working, cher. I just wanted to check in. Is there anything you need?”

  “This is good news,” Amalie said, pretending an elation she didn’t feel. “I don’t need a thing, but if I do, I won’t hesitate to call, okay?”

  “Okay,” Louis said. “Talk to you later.”

  The dial tone in her ear matched her mood. Flat. Monotone. How many ways were there to describe longing?

  She hung up the phone, then turned away and gave the room a studied glance. Nothing was out of place. Everything was clean and shining. Her shoulders slumped as the grandfather clock in the upstairs hall began to chime. Twelve o’clock.

  She’d completely forgotten about lunch. There was something she could do. Make herself something to eat. Something complicated. Something that would take a while to concoct. That would help pass the time.

  She wound up making a ham sandwich and pouring herself a glass of sweet iced tea, and carrying everything out to the front veranda. She chose a seat that gave her a clear view of the grounds, and then sat cross-legged in the old wicker chair and leaned back. After a couple of bites and a sip of iced tea, she began to relax.

  The sun was bright. The sky cloudless. A far cry from last week’s weather. She took another bite as she thought about what needed to be done to the place, both inside and out.

  The most urgent thing, she supposed, was clearing away the undergrowth that was threatening to overtake the immediate grounds, getting rid of some kudzu, trimming some trees and cutting the grass. When she was little, she could remember, an old gazebo had sat in a place of prominence off to the right of the house. She hadn’t thought of it in years and wondered what had happened to it. Maybe she would have another one built. It had been a wonderful place to play.

  Then she sighed. A gazebo was a place for lovers and children. She had neither, and the prospect of either one was slim to none.

  She’d sent a letter to the State Historical Society about the secret room and was curious to see what, if anything, would happen. It seemed like such a marvelous find, she couldn’t imagine it being ignored, not if her suspicions were correct and the Vatican had once been a stop on the Underground Railroad.

  She finished her sandwich and tea, and carried the dirty dishes back into the house, dug through the kitchen for something sweet to eat, then changed her mind and settled for a second glass of tea, instead. She was about to get some more ice when she heard the crunching of wheels on the gravel driveway.

  Her first thought was that Louis hadn’t taken her at her word and was coming to see for himself how she was doing. She’d sensed his loneliness while she’d been with him, and realized he must have checked in on Nonna as he was now checking in on her.

  She wiped the dampness from her hands, smoothed down the front of her pink T-shirt and finger-combed the curls away from her face as she headed for the front door.

  A car door slammed as she reached for the knob. Then she paused. The last time she’d opened the door to strangers, her house had been invaded. She stopped, backed up and peered through the curtains.

  Oh, my God!

  Her heart leaped. Nick! It was Nick!

  She ran for the door and swung it wide, bolted out of the house and down the steps with her arms open and a smile on her face.

  Nick caught her in midleap as she skipped the last step and jumped into his arms. He knew he was grinning like a love-struck teenager, but he couldn’t help himself. God. He’d waited a lifetime to be greeted like this.

  His heart swelled as Amalie wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

  “Hey, baby,” he growled softly, and planted a hard, hungry kiss on her lips.

  “Return of the conquering hero,” Amalie said, and kissed him back, without caution or invitation.

  Nick groaned as their kiss deepened, revealing more than words could say. All the days of worry and frustration were gone just like that. This hadn’t been a passing fling, brought on by the tension of the situation. She was clearly as glad to see him as he was to see her.

  “I tried to call,” he finally said, as he carried her up the steps, her legs still wrapped around his waist.

  She slid out of his embrace long enough to stand on her own two feet, then took him by the hand and led him into the house.

  “The phones only started working about an hour ago,” she said. “Are you okay? What happened? Di
d you have any trouble—”

  Nick put a finger to her lips.

  “I’m fine. Lots happened, all of which I will share, if I could talk you out of something to eat while I do it.”

  Amalie grinned. “We’ve been down this road before, haven’t we?”

  “I promise not to eat you out of house and home this time.”

  “You can have anything you want in this house,” Amalie said, and led the way into the kitchen as Nick followed.

  “Anything?” he asked, as she began making him a sandwich.

  “Anything you want…it’s yours,” she said.

  “I want you.”

  Amalie froze. The mayonnaise-covered knife slipped out of her hand onto the counter as she turned around to face him.

  Nick’s heart was pounding so hard he couldn’t hear himself think. Had he spoken too soon? What if…

  Amalie clutched her hands against her belly. “As in sexually, or as in—”

  “That and more,” Nick said.

  She took a deep breath. “How much more?”

  Nick frowned. “I’m not sure I want to answer that question. I don’t want to spill my guts just to make a fool out of myself.”

  Amalie’s hands were beginning to shake.

  “Spill your guts. Play the fool,” she whispered.

  Seconds later she was in his arms, the food forgotten. Nick kept kissing her over and over, in quiet desperation.

  “Somewhere between walking through your front door and chasing you through a swamp, I fell in love with you, Amalie Pope. I know this sounds crazy. We’ve known each other barely a week, but I lived a lifetime with you. I saw your heart. I saw your courage. I saw a woman beautiful both inside and out, and I got greedy. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and if you’ll give me a chance to make it up to you—give us a chance to do this right—I’ll never turn my back on you again. I swear.”

  “Oh, Nick,” Amalie said, and cupped his face. “Ever since you left I’ve had this unsettled, restless feeling…like I didn’t know what to do next. And then you drove up, and it was gone. I’ll give you all the time you…we…need to do this right, but just so you know, I fell in love with you, too.”

  Nick shuddered. “I’ve waited a lifetime to hear those words.”

  “Are we going to make love now, or are you going to eat this sandwich?”

  Nick grinned. “I vote for making love.” Then his smile slid sideways. “But I have something I need to tell you first.”

  Amalie frowned.

  Nick sighed. He hated to put that look on her face, but he couldn’t bring himself to take her to bed, make crazy love to her, and only after it was over drop the bombshell that the nut job who’d tried to rape her had escaped.

  “So sit,” Amalie said. “I’ll finish making the damn sandwich. Then you’ll eat and talk, and I’ll listen.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Nick said.

  “Where are you going?” Amalie asked.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving again. I’m just going out to the car to get my suitcase. I’m on R and R, and you’re stuck with me for a while.”

  Amalie smiled at the news, then watched with longing as he walked away. Heaven help her, but he had the sexiest walk of any man she’d ever seen. Whatever he had to tell her couldn’t possibly be all that bad. God wouldn’t do that to her again.

  She made the sandwich in short order and poured him a glass of sweet iced tea. She was carrying it to the table when he reentered the kitchen.

  He took the food out of her hands. “Thank you, baby,” he said softly, as he set it down, then kissed her again, just because he could.

  Amalie’s heart lifted. No matter what he had to say, she felt the love.

  “Aren’t you having anything?” he asked as he slid into a chair.

  “I already ate. But I didn’t have dessert. I’ll get some cookies,” she said, and grabbed a bag she’d bought from the grocery deli, refilled the tea she’d been fixing when he drove up and then joined him at the table.

  “So. What’s up?” she asked, as she took a bite of cookie.

  “Lou Drake escaped custody this morning.”

  The cookie turned to powder in her mouth. She tried to chew, but it wouldn’t go down. Finally she took a drink and swallowed it like a dose of bad medicine.

  Nick watched the color fade from her face and saw her struggling to regain her composure. But the news had done exactly what he feared it would do. Amalie Pope was afraid again.

  “Is that why you’re here?” she asked.

  “Hell, no!” he said, and reached for her hand. “I was less than fifteen minutes from here when I got the call. I would be here regardless.”

  She nodded. Tears were pooling, and there was a knot in the back of her throat. Damn it! She wasn’t a quitter. Reacting like this was frustrating, but she couldn’t seem to get a grip on her emotions.

  Nick saw her eyes glaze over, saw her struggling to regain some control. He slammed the sandwich down on the plate and stood.

  “I changed my mind,” he said.

  Amalie blinked. Her mind was going in a dozen different directions. He’d changed his mind? About what? About her?

  “I don’t want to eat. I want to make love to you. In a house…in your bed. It’s time to put bad news on the back burner and think of us for a change.”

  Amalie stood up, then walked into his arms.

  Nick pulled her close against his chest, cradling her cheek against his heartbeat.

  “It’s all right, baby. I promise it’s going to be all right. I’m here, and I’m not leaving until either Drake is recaptured or you run me off. Period. Promise.”

  Amalie sighed, then looked up. “I have clean sheets on the bed.”

  He grinned. “Then let’s go mess them up.”

  Amalie laughed, then shivered, surprised that she could still laugh in the face of what she’d been told.

  “Did you lock the door when you came in?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a gun?”

  His eyes widened. “Yes, actually, I do. Why? Do you need one?”

  “No. I have one of my own now.”

  “Damn,” Nick said, and picked her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. “I’m sorry, baby. For everything you’ve been through. For everything you have yet to face.”

  Amalie wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “But once again, I’m not having to face it alone, thanks to you. Now, would you please take me to bed? I don’t think I want to wait, either.”

  Nick carried her through the house, kissing her every few seconds just because he could, then paused at the foot of the stairs.

  “I’ll be too heavy. I can walk,” Amalie said.

  “I know that,” Nick drawled. “But ever since I saw this staircase, I’ve had an image of Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara going through my head. Allow me the fantasy, okay? Besides, you’re anything but heavy.” Amalie grinned.

  “Then do your worst, Rhett.”

  “Only the best for you, Miz Scarlett,” Nick said.

  The trip up the stairs was surreal. Amalie knew a lot of the dramas and tragedies that had happened beneath this roof, but she couldn’t help wondering how many times in the Vatican’s past strong, handsome men had carried their women up these same steps for this very same reason.

  Then they were in her room and Nick was carrying her toward the bed.

  Amalie’s heart began to beat faster. When he set her on her feet, her hands were shaking, but when she began to undress, Nick stopped her.

  “Let me,” he said

  She sighed, then stood quietly as Nick pulled the pink T-shirt over her head and tossed it on a nearby chair. When he stopped long enough to kiss the hollow at the base of her neck, breath caught in the back of her throat. She closed her eyes, reveling in the tenderness of his touch.

  When his hands moved to the waistband of her jeans, she shivered. Suddenly her jeans were around h
er ankles, then her bra and panties followed them to the floor. By the time Nick picked her up again and laid her on the bed, she was shaking all over.

  The seduction of Amalie Pope had begun.

  Nick stripped in seconds, then crawled onto the bed beside her.

  Amalie hadn’t missed a moment of his reveal, from his hard, flat belly to the lean, muscled length of his body. His shoulders were wide, his hips slim and narrow. But it was the look on his face that melted her heart. He was looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in his life, and when he began to touch her, she felt it, as well. But it wasn’t until he began to kiss every healing wound and bruise on her body that she knew she was lost.

  Nick Aroyo loved her.

  She was no longer alone.

  Sixteen

  Amalie was Nick’s dream come true. She came alive in his arms, yielding to his caresses—his kisses—willingly giving back everything she received and more.

  When her fingers curled around him, he shuddered, fighting the need to bury himself deep inside her. Not yet.

  She sighed, then arched beneath his touch, wanting more of what he was doing, wanting him—inside her—now.

  “Nick…”

  Not yet.

  “Easy, baby…just close your eyes and let yourself feel,” he whispered.

  Amalie shivered, then lay still.

  He slid a finger into the velvet folds between her legs, searching in a circular motion until he felt a tiny nub, then rubbed until it was hard and pulsing. He watched her gasp as her body began to tense, but he was waiting for more.

  Nick was one solid ache, but he needed to give before he would take. Her climax came suddenly, and it was everything he’d been waiting for.

  Now.

  Still reeling from waves of pleasure, Amalie was unaware Nick had moved until suddenly he was inside her, filling her—completing her.

  She locked her arms around his neck.

  Feeling the ripples of her climax was a sensuous caress that nearly made Nick lose it. But he was greedy. He wanted more. He slid his hands beneath her hips, tilting them just enough to rock her world one more time. When she bit the lobe of his ear, he groaned.

  Then she laughed and pulled him deeper, and Nick was gone.

 

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