Later, they packed their clothes and moved to one of the hotels down town. Isa went into the luxurious bathroom and ran a bath for both of them. Sam let her strip him slowly; his entire body tired and drained. In the tub, she made him lie back against her as she ran a sponge over his chest, her lips at his temple. He took her free hand between his, winding his fingers through hers. She’d lit some candles, turned off the overhead light and the silence of the room, the scent of the bath oils and her soft, caressing touch made him relax finally. This couldn’t go on, the constant terror. But he was clueless about what to do.
‘Stop thinking about it all,’ Isa murmured, as she gently kissed his ear, nibbled at his earlobe. ‘Life is made up of moments. Moments of love, of pain, of laughter, of terror. This is a moment of love, just enjoy.’
She had been weirdly calm all afternoon. When he’d heard what she’d said to the killer, what an admiring policewoman had relayed to him as Isa was questioned by Halsey, his heart had swelled with pride, with utter love. She was fighting and that made him hopeful.
Now, he closed his eyes, reveled in her touch, her scent, and her soft lips against his skin. He felt her pillowy breasts against his back, the rise of her belly as she breathed. Her legs were curved around him, linked over his and he ran his hands up and down them. Isa dropped the sponge and curled her arms around his neck. He turned his head to press his lips against hers. Her eyelashes were stuck together with the water, her skin scrubbed clean, her eyes full of the sweetest love.
‘Hey,’ she said softly, smiling as their eyes met. He shifted his head so it rested on her shoulder and he could look up into her lovely face.
‘I love you.’
She smiled and kissed him. ‘And I love you too. You are my life.’
God, what she did to him…he moved around in the bath, so he was on top of her. She giggled as he splashed water everywhere.
‘You’ll drown…’ She laughed out as he buried his face between her breasts – and inches deep in the bathwater. She grabbed the back of his head and yanked him up, grinning as he spluttered a mouthful of water out.
‘Totally worth it,’ he said, grinning then caught her mouth with his. He felt her moan happily as he kissed her and the sound made him harden, his cock nudging at her sex. He turned and hooked his foot around the chain of the plug, yanking it out to drain away the bath water. She was watching him, a lazy, languid smile on her face. The candlelight made her skin glow gold, the ruby red of her nipples seem deeper, the chestnut flashes in her brown hair gleam, piled so casually on top of her head. He brushed his lips against hers. So beautiful.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, arching her back to grind her sex against him.
‘Greedy tonight,’ he joked softly, and she nodded. She clung tightly to him as he pushed into her, her muscles clenching tightly around his swollen cock as he moved slowly in and out. He savored every sensation of her enveloping him, taking him in. He kissed her throat, his lips trailing up her neck, along her jaw to finally close on hers, his tongue sweeping along her lower lip, his teeth nipping gently. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them, locked his gaze, the warmth of her dark brown irises seemed flecked with gold; the reflection from the candles.
In was in these moments that he could imagine nothing else could touch them. Her petite body safe in his arms, the rocking of their bodies as they made love so real, so tangible. Isa clung to him as he drove harder into her, his pace quickening with the need to consume every part of her. He came before her, shuddering and groaning, telling her how much he loved her.
He scooped her out of the tub onto the floor and thrust harder, faster into her, leaving her gasping and sighing her pleasure. Her body twisted upwards as she came, pressing into his. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as she caught her breath.
‘You okay?’ He swept his palm over her forehead to push back the hair that was stuck to it. She smiled up at him.
‘Always, with you.’
They made to the bed eventually, and Sam ordered room service for them. Isa unclipped her hair from where she’d piled it on the top of her head and slipped into a t-shirt and shorts. Sam pulled on his sweatpants, grinning when he saw Isa eyeing his body appreciatively. She waved her hand mock-imperiously at him.
‘You know all that belongs to me now.’
He laughed, glad she still had her Isa-sense of humor. They lounged on the bed, half-watching television, half lost in their own thoughts.
The young girl who brought their room service trolley looked at Sam and his bare chest with wide, lustful eyes - so much so that Sam began to flush. He shot a glance at Isa who was trying to hide her amusement. When the girl had been sent off, disappointed but with a huge tip, Sam flicked a napkin at Isa. She giggled.
‘Why are you surprised?’ She asked, crawling over the bed to get to the food, pausing to kiss him. ‘You’re a hot piece of ass.’ She grinned wickedly then moaned with delight when she took the lid of the steak he’d ordered. He knew what she liked.
Later a thunderstorm ripped across the Seattle night, and they turned off the lights and watched it, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Sam stroked her hair as she rested her cheek on his bare chest.
After a while, she sighed.
‘Sam…I don’t want to go back to the apartment.’
He kissed the top of her head. ‘I understand. We’ll stay here until we find somewhere else, somewhere safe. The apartment at the hospital won’t be ready for months, but we can rent somewhere…as long as it’s safe.’
She pressed her lips to his skin. ‘I hate this.’
‘I know.’
She was quiet for a time then raised her head to look at him.
‘What if we draw him out?’
‘How do you mean?
‘Instead of locking me up in my ivory tower, I get out there, in the world, places he could get to me. If he wants to stab me then, he’s gotta get close to do it. We have the advantage; we know who – me, we know how he wants to kill me…’ and she mimed being stabbed, and Sam blanched, catching her hands to stop the action. He couldn’t bear to think about her like that, the life in her eyes going out. No. No.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
She sat up, her face alive with her idea. ‘I could wear a stab vest. We could set it up with Halsey…’
‘Are you fucking crazy? No way, no fucking way!’ Sam was livid. He pushed her away and stood up, running his hand through his hair, angrier than she’d ever seen him. Isa wasn’t ready to give up on the idea, though.
‘No, listen…’
‘What don’t you get? He wants to kill you. End of story. You want to put yourself into his…Jesus.’ He choked and turned away so she couldn’t see his face. She watched him breathing deeply trying to calm down.
‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was small. He turned and crouched down in front of her. He pulled her forward so he could rest his forehead on hers.
‘Don’t ever, ever say anything like that to me again. Promise me.’
‘I promise.’
He sighed and closed his eyes. She kissed him gently. He smiled.
‘I just hate feeling helpless,’ she said. ‘I feel like I’m just waiting around for him to k…waiting to die.’
Sam let out a shaky breath. ‘Don’t.’
‘Okay.’ A whisper. ‘I’m just so sick of him shrinking my world. Who the fuck does he think he is?’ Her voice rose with the force of her anger and Sam pulled her into his arms.
‘I get it, I do. But nothing will convince me the best way to catch him is to put you in harm’s way. Nothing. If I have to take you to the island for months, I will.’
She tried to smile. ‘Do I get a say?’
He raised his hands warily. ‘I don’t want to fight.’
She leaned over to kiss him. ‘The next time we go the island I want it to be for something happy.’
He trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek. ‘Like…our honeymoon?’
He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she smiled and nodded. ‘Like that.’
He slid both hands on either side of her face. His big palms dwarfed her tiny features, and she leaned into his touch. His chest hurt with his love for her. ‘That question is getting closer.’
She pressed her lips against his. ‘My answer is, too.’
‘Real close.’
‘Good.’
‘Really?’ He studied her expressions, looked for any sign of hesitation in her eyes and found none.
‘Really.’
He suddenly flipped her onto her back making her shriek with laughter.
‘I’m gonna have to perform a strip search now.’
She giggled, and he hooked a finger under the top of her t-shirt and peeked down it.
‘Damn, woman, you all sorts of naked under here.’ He said with a wicked grin, and as he pulled the t-shirt over her head, he wondered if they could overcome everything and ever get to that island, with Isa as his wife and the danger behind them.
He hoped like hell they could.
For a week, then two, then three, there was nothing. No more phone calls, no more bodies, no more threats.
Sam wasn’t fooled. There was no minute that someone wasn’t with Isa. If he couldn’t be there – and those moments were rare – then Zoe, Seb or Cal were on call. Sam knew Isa was frustrated with the situation, but he didn’t care. He wanted her safe.
She was waiting for him in the hotel room which had become their temporary home when he came home after meeting with Halsey again. He was irritable, tired, and resentful – none of which was made better by the fact that Isa appeared to be alone when he got to the room.
‘Where the fuck is Seb?’ He snapped before she could say hello to him. She shut her mouth and said nothing, her face pinched and shocked at his temper.
‘Here, dude.’ Seb stepped from the bathroom behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. He grinned at his sister and sat down in one of the easy chairs. ‘Figured Isa wouldn’t want to see me pee.’
Sam let out a breath, suddenly ashamed. ‘Sorry, man. Bad day.’ He looked at Isa, saw the hurt in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to snap.’ He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her, was gratified when he felt her gentle kiss on his cheek.
‘That’s my cue before you two get mushy. Later, dude.’ Seb grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. Sam nodded at him.
‘Thanks again, buddy – and sorry, again.’
Seb grinned, leaned over to kiss his sister on the cheek. ‘Forget it, man. Later – stay safe.’
When the door closed, Sam double-locked it and stripped off his jacket, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing his face. Isa slipped her hands over his shoulders, her fingers kneading the rock-hard muscles. He leaned back into her touch.
‘Feels so good…’
Her lips found his temple and he reached around to pull her onto his lap. Neither spoke, just gazed at the other for a long moment. They were still here, still breathing. Sam slid his hand onto the nape of her neck, his fingers bunching the hair there into his fist. Her lips were cool and soft against his, tasting, caressing, with her tongue moving against his slowly. The kiss deepened, Sam crushing his mouth against hers, hungry for her. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed her back onto the bed, reached under her skirt as she unzipped his fly and took his cock in her hands. His fingers slipped under her panties, stroked the wet warmth of her, the silky-smooth skin, the peachy folds of her sex. His cock was stiff and pulsing, ready for her and he pushed her panties to one side and slid into her. Her mouth still on his, he heard her soft moan, and he began to move in and out of her, his hips rocking with hers, her thighs clinging to his waist.
It was a strange kind of lovemaking – neither said a word, letting their bodies say everything they need to.
Afterward, Sam took a shower while Isa ordered room service. They ate then Isa with her eyes wary, handed him the newspaper. It was folded onto a page in the Arts section. Sam ran his eyes over the piece and hissed. Casey. Again. More bullshit about Isa’s work being plagiarized from her own. Sam looked up at her, and she jerked her chin at the paper.
‘Keep reading.’
The piece continued and now Sam saw that the writer had reached out to one of Seattle’s most prominent art critics, Paul Carter who defended Isa, telling the writer that Ms. Hamilton was known for being ‘unstable’ and that he, Paul Carter, had been at the gallery the night that Isa had shown her work. His praise of Isa and dismissal of Casey, Sam knew would hold great weight in the local art community – not that he’d ever doubted Casey’s claims would come to nothing. He felt a jolt of gratitude to the critic – who he’d clashed with frequently in the past. The man was arrogant, narcissistic and bombastic, but he knew his stuff. Sam read on, noting that Carter while discussing Isa’s work, didn’t fail to comment on her personally; her looks, her body, and her personality.
Sam glanced at her, and she nodded. ‘Bit creepy towards the end there, huh?’
‘You could say that… I do know Carter, though, and this is just like him. He’s a sleaze, but it’s a good piece if you can overlook the blatant lust.’ Sam smiled for the first time that night, seeing Isa roll her eyes. ‘Look at it this way, saves us from getting directly involved with Casey.’
Isa let out a long breath and gave him a small smile. ‘I guess. I think I’m hypersensitive to anyone’s personal scrutiny at the moment.’
Sam cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Anyone?’
She grinned. ‘Present company accepted. Anyway…’ She sat down on the bed next to him. ‘I really need to get out of this room, Sam. Stir crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it. I called Sandy today.’
Sam brushed her hair away from her face. He didn’t like the idea of her being out in the world, but he knew it wasn’t fair to her. However so much as he loved her, it was her decision.
‘You want to go back to work?’
She nodded, her eyes searching his. ‘I really do.’
‘I think it’s a great idea.’ He was already planning the security measures he would set up, and she grinned, reading his mind.
‘Whatever you need to do, big guy, is fine with me. But the fact is, I won’t let the asshole shrink my world anymore.’
He gazed at her – his beautiful, angry, sweet, fierce, vulnerable Isabel - and for the millionth time wondered how he could ever have lived without her.
‘I’m behind you one-hundred percent sweetheart. Maybe there’s something you could do for me first, though?’
‘What’s that?’
Sam tilted her face up to his and kissed her gently, trailing his tongue along the seam of her bottom lip. ‘Isabel Eleanor Flynn?’
She smiled ‘Yes?’
‘Marry me?’
Her smile widened and tears sprung up, dropping down her cheeks. ‘Yes.’
‘Yes?’
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down onto the bed, winding her legs around him and he laughed as she yelled happily. ‘Hell, yes. Fuck, yes. Yes, yes, yes…’
Louisa balanced her chin on Seb’s shoulder as he flipped some pancakes from the pan to a plate. ‘You’re distracting me,’ he grumbled but laughed, turning his head to kiss her. They were in his new apartment, the one he shared with Cal. Lou’s eyes had widened when he had brought her back here last night for the first time since he moved in, and now she took in the large, expensively furnished apartment.
‘Nice space,’ she said, peering out of the window of the kitchen down to the street, a long way below them. ‘Must be nice having a sugar daddy, eh?’
She grinned at Seb who chuckled. ‘You don’t know what I have to do to keep him happy,’ he sighed dramatically. Lou half-smiled and Seb raised an eyebrow at her. ‘’Sup?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Lou?’
She sighed. ‘It’s just… look at this place. Doesn’t it seem odd to you that Cal would offer to do th
is for you?’
Seb shrugged. ‘We’re practically family.’
‘Yeah, but are you?’
Seb looked confused. ‘I don’t follow.’
Lou hoisted herself up onto the counter. ‘Look at this place. I mean, if my brother was dating a rich guy, and the rich guy’s sister said to me, hey, come live with me in my mansion…’
Seb grinned. ‘Cal and I are friends too, Lou, you know? Anyways, if it weren’t for the fire at our gallery, I’d still be there. He’s just being a friend. I thought you liked him when we went out that night?’
‘He’s okay. Bit of a player, if you ask me.’
Seb shrugged, not phased at all by her judgment. ‘He’s a good-looking young guy, let him have his fun.’
‘Okay, Grandpa.’ She leaned over to kiss him. ‘Just, you know, keep your guard up.’
Mrs. Levy. Mrs. Levy. Isa grinned to herself. She would have to get used to the name. It had been a week since Sam had proposed and, despite her jokingly giving him an out the next morning, he merely grinned and got down on one knee and repeated his proposal. She was giggling as he went on, his eyes sparkling wickedly.
‘I do feel this re-proposal is necessary because I need to convince you I am sincere, and not just in the thrall of your - admittedly magical - vagina.’
She burst out laughing and tugged him to his feet. ‘You loon.’ He kissed her fiercely then rested his forehead against hers.
‘Thank you.’ The love in his voice had made her cry all over again. Isa had never coveted a wedding ring, the picket fence, anything. But, God, she wanted to marry this man, this wonderful, elegant, silly, sexy-as-all-get-out man. What she didn’t want, however, was a huge wedding and she made that her one condition. To her relief, he agreed immediately.
‘I’m thinking you, me, Zoe, Seb and Cal at City Hall.’ He said, raising an eyebrow at her. She gave him the finger-pistols, and he laughed.
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