Saving Grace

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “All right, all right,” he muttered, typing as fast as his fingers would let him.

  I’m in the process of getting the money, but I need more time. Another twenty-four hours.

  Declan fidgeted as he waited for a response. One minute. Two. Three. Too long. There should be a reply by now. His gut was telling him something was wrong. And why hadn’t he heard anything from Grace?

  What if she’d stumbled on the blackmailer and was in trouble? He switched over to the camera feed. She was in some kind of a corridor.

  “Are you all right?”

  No answer. And the camera view suddenly became static. What the hell?

  About to get out of the car and go after Grace—her safety was more important than any promise he’d made her—Declan stopped with his hand on the car door when a second message from the blackmailer arrived in her in-box. He quickly opened it.

  SEVENTY-TWO HOURS MEANS SEVENTY-TWO HOURS. THE PRICE JUST WENT UP. HAVE $750,000 BY MIDNIGHT TOMORROW OR I’LL SEE THAT YOU BECOME THE FAVORITE WEB WHORE OF NEW ORLEANS.

  A black rage clouded Declan’s vision for a moment, and he couldn’t think of a good enough punishment for the person who wanted to ruin Grace’s life. He typed a furiously fast reply.

  Wait. Let’s negotiate. I can barely lay my hands on half a mil.

  Apparently Grace hadn’t caught up to him yet.

  THE LOADING DOCK COMPUTER…that had to be the place where the blackmailer was working. Hearing voices, Grace had pulled into a janitor’s closet where she’d frozen.

  “Grace, he’s offline! Say something if you’re all right!”

  Fearing she could be heard, she nodded her head instead, giving him a visual clue that he would see on his monitor.

  “Okay. Thank God. Are you down in the loading dock area?”

  She nodded again.

  “I’m going to wait a minute to see if another message comes through. If not, I’m coming after you.”

  She listened intently and picked up the murmur of conversation. Coming carefully out of the janitor’s closet, she slid her back along the wall and concentrated on the voices, one familiar.

  “Let’s get outta here,” Eula said

  “Ain’t done yet. Hold on to your pants. The bitch has gotta know who’s boss. Got one more message to send.”

  “Hurry.”

  Anger filled Grace as she moved out into the open so she could see through the office doorway. Eula Prejean’s eyes opened wide as the security guard caught sight of her.

  Just like in her vision, Eula was standing guard, watching for intruders, while a man with his back to the door sent out an e-mail message.

  To her!

  “M-Miss Grace…”

  “What about the bitch?”

  “I’m looking at her, Bergeron.”

  “What, you print off one of them photos?”

  “I mean in the flesh.”

  The man whirled around and Grace immediately caught a definite resemblance between the siblings. Bergeron’s expression was downright mean, however, while Eula simply appeared to be afraid.

  “Grace! What the hell are you doing?” Declan asked.

  Grace ignored him. “How could you do this, Eula? I thought we were friends.”

  “We are, Miss Grace. You’ve always been kind to me—”

  “Stop blathering. My sister here is weak. She has a soft spot for you.” Bergeron pushed his way out of the office toward Grace. “But don’t make that mistake with me.”

  So Eula had let her brother bully her into helping with the blackmail scheme.

  “Grace, get out of there now!”

  “Not yet. I have to know the truth.” Though Grace’s nerves were stretched tight as she backed up, she gave Bergeron her best glare. “Why?” She wasn’t going anywhere until he told her.

  “Your mama, the saintly prosecutor. Does she know what kind of pictures you pose for?”

  “You did all this because she put you where you belonged?”

  “She put me behind bars for no reason—I was innocent. I never did no armed robbery. Just got out on parole and I figure your family owes me. Pocket change money to you folks anyhow.”

  “I told you I didn’t have that kind of money.”

  “You got family money. And now I want more. You’re late with the payment and, knowing who I am and all, I have to go on the run. Now I want a million.”

  “You’re not getting a cent from me!” Grace said. “As a matter of fact, you should go on the run now, while you can, before the police get here.”

  “If you don’t have it tomorrow night, that Web site will be in the news!”

  Bergeron Prejean barked a laugh and with uncommon speed, he lunged forward and gave her a hard shove.

  “Bergeron, what you doing?” Eula yelled. “You weren’t supposed to hurt nobody.”

  “Grace!” Declan’s shout through the earbud nearly deafened her.

  Now wanting to escape, Grace got to the door, but Bergeron came after her. No sooner was she on the outside dock than he shoved her again. Harder. Grace stumbled and her rear foot met air. She tried to catch herself, but she couldn’t get her balance. A quick look over her shoulder brought the Dumpster coming up fast to greet Grace.

  “Shut up, Eula. Just making sure she can’t cause me no trouble whilst I clean out those files so I don’t leave no evidence.”

  Grace’s landing was softened by that material Raphael had told his assistant to discard. She tried to fight it to find a way out, but the Dumpster’s silky contents made her slip and slide all over the place. It was like walking in quicksand. She kept sinking and couldn’t keep her balance.

  “Eula, please help me,” she begged. “Don’t leave me in here.”

  Down she went again, this time, yards and yards of the fabric threatening to engulf her in a cocoon…to drown her in a sea of silk and satin.

  RUNNING TOWARD the back entrance, Declan heard Eula say, “Sorry, M-Miss Grace. Bergeron is my b-brother. I gotta do it his way.”

  “But he’s made a criminal of you,” Grace said as she unsuccessfully tried to pull herself out of the Dumpster.

  “Like your mama made a criminal of him.”

  “I’m sick of listening to the bitch squawk!”

  Declan turned the corner and Bergeron immediately spotted him. The man’s eyes went wide and he broadcast fear all the way to Declan.

  “Move, Eula!”

  Bergeron shoved his sister out of the way, picked up a length of material and wrapped it around Grace’s neck, giving it a jerk so it tightened. As Declan ran up the loading dock steps, Grace made a horrible noise and put her hands to the material as if trying to free herself so she could breathe. Bergeron struck out with a booted foot and kicked Grace in the shoulder so that she went flying backward and bounced off the side of the Dumpster.

  “Bergeron, no!” Eula screamed.

  Seeing red, Declan raced toward the man with a war cry. Bergeron was half-turned when he made contact, Declan’s shoulder to the blackmailer’s solar plexus. Both men went flying into the Dumpster alongside Grace, then were nearly buried in a pile of cloth. Having landed on top of the bastard who’d tried to hurt the woman he loved, Declan shoved his fist into the man’s face. Several times.

  Even so, Bergeron rose, one hand flashing around Declan’s throat, while the other fisted and came flying toward him. An explosion in his head knocked Declan silly just long enough for Bergeron to clamber over him and out of the Dumpster.

  Next to him, Grace was making strangled sounds and clawing at the material on her neck. No contest about what he would do first. Declan threw himself next to her and quickly worked out the knot. He didn’t take an easy breath until Grace did.

  “He’s getting away,” she croaked. “Go after him!”

  “After I get you out of here.”

  He helped her to her feet and in one smooth motion, hopped out of the Dumpster, bringing her with him.

  “You’re all right?”

 
“Go!” She was turning to look at Eula.

  Fearing the security guard might have a weapon, Declan hesitated long enough to check.

  From somewhere nearby, an engine roared and a vehicle careened down the street. A loud thwack and Eula’s screamed “Bergeron!” made Declan turn to see the man’s flying body bounce off the edge of the building and hit the pavement even as the vehicle sped away without slowing.

  Declan ran to Bergeron, but there was nothing he could do for the man. Bergeron’s head tilted crookedly, his ear almost touching his shoulder. No pulse. Eula fell to her knees on the other side of his body and wailed. Declan looked up to find Grace a few feet away—she was on her cell phone.

  “Yes, Mama,” she was saying as she drew close, “send them in now.”

  Mere seconds later, the street was crawling with cops. Eula was under arrest and Bergeron was being packed into an ambulance in a zipped black plastic bag.

  The blackmailer was dead, and Grace was safe, not just from scandal.

  To Declan’s everlasting relief, the woman he loved was finally out of mortal danger.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After the exhausting night she’d spent tracking down a criminal followed by a couple of hours with the authorities that included her mother—not to mention Corbett, who’d come down to provide moral support—Grace thought she might be able to sleep.

  Wrong.

  She tried and tried, but no matter how hard she wanted to shut down her mind, she could see Declan, the way he’d looked at her before leaving the station. He’d been waiting for her to say something, to stop him.

  To tell him that she wanted a real relationship with him when he was the one who’d denied her only hours before?

  When push came to shove, Declan had backed her all the way. He’d saved her life—she would have suffocated if he hadn’t been there for her. Even so, afterward, she’d said nothing personal, had simply let him go home alone.

  A man who’d saved her life deserved her complete trust and he had it. But how could she share him with another woman, even if that woman was merely a memory?

  Declan had loved and left Lila for her own good. He’d refused to love Grace for the same reason.

  Declan McKenna was honorable and protective and self-sacrificing.

  He was also a coward.

  If Declan had really loved Lila, he should have stayed in New Mexico and fought for the woman.

  The way he’d fought for her the night before, Grace thought.

  What was Declan doing now? she wondered, tossing and turning and spinning visions of the way Declan would make love to her if he were here. What good were all those visions she’d had over the past few days? If they didn’t come true, what did that say about her gift?

  Grace sighed.

  She’d used her psychic ability to catch a blackmailer, and now she was done with it.

  Wasn’t she?

  Sunlight sneaked into the bedroom through cracks between the heavy curtains, informing Grace that morning had arrived. Exhausted, giving up the pretense of sleep, she took a shower, then pulled on a pair of loose pants and a T-shirt, comfort clothes that she only wore around the house when there was no one to see her.

  Wandering through her apartment, she wondered how she was going to fill her day. It wasn’t that she lacked for things to do. She simply had no desire to start something she probably wouldn’t want to finish. She certainly didn’t want to go to work today.

  Voodoo Woman…who was she?

  Grace fetched the photo from the bedroom dresser. Was she really this sensual creature or had she been fooling herself like some tourist hiding behind a Mardi Gras mask?

  She needed to find out.

  Returning to the living area, she knelt on the floor and opened her peacock-and-gold trunk and studied the items that were her past. Picking up the feathered Mardi Gras mask, she set it in front of her face. She could almost feel Grandmama Madelaine’s presence, protective arms wrapped around her, lovely southern accented voice spinning tales of the gift they shared. The gift she’d hidden for so long.

  “Help me figure it out, Grandmama. Who am I?”

  She stared at the two items in pink—shoes and bra. Which one was she? The woman who dared to be different or the one who ran from herself? Trust—something absent in her life for too long. Above all, she owed trust to herself.

  Standing, she took the pink bra to the kitchen and dropped it into the garbage can where the memories it invoked belonged. She wouldn’t let fear guide her anymore.

  Grace Broussard, eccentric and complex—Voodoo Woman—was exactly who she wanted to be. She was going to accept her psychic visions for the gifts they were. And she was going to stake her claim on the man she loved.

  Grabbing her keys and wallet, Grace decided to face Declan. She opened the apartment door, and as if conjured, he stood there, scowling at her.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking, Grace. About you and me.”

  Her already fluttering pulse sped up. “So have I.” She stepped back. “Come in.”

  Declan didn’t hesitate. He stopped in the middle of the living room and announced, “You’re not in danger anymore.”

  Closing the door, she said, “Thanks to you.”

  “Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be—the McKenna protecting the one he or she loves from the family curse,” Declan said. “Not that it has to end in tragedy. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my past before.”

  A thrill ran through her. “And I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time. Trust hasn’t come easy to me…but I’m going to change all that.”

  Grace moved into Declan and he slid his arms around her back. He kissed her and kissed her again.

  Breathless, she slid out of his arms. “About Lila—”

  “Lila is my past.”

  “But you love her.”

  “I thought so. I’m not sure anymore. I know I was too wary because of the way my mother died so senselessly. It’s possible the first time I thought my heart might be involved, I panicked when I shouldn’t have. Of course I cared about Lila or I wouldn’t have abandoned my home, my family. But since I met you…you make me feel things she never did. I can’t even see Lila clearly in my mind anymore. All I can think about is you, Grace. I can’t deny it any more. I love you.”

  “So why are you here, Declan?” Grace’s pulse was racing and she was having trouble taking a deep breath. “To give me your farewell?”

  He shook his head. “Ian was right. He told me to use my power—and yours. Together. He told me to fight for what I wanted. And I want you.” He reached for her and she let him pull her close. “What do you want, Grace?”

  Heart thundering, she touched his face, stared into his bedroom eyes. “I want you, too, Declan.”

  She wanted to be with him, to see the visions come to pass, which wasn’t going to happen with them standing in the middle of her living room fully dressed.

  She removed her shoes…pants…top…

  He followed suit.

  Their clothing scattered along the floor, entangled as their limbs would soon be.

  He pulled her into an embrace and they sank to the floor together. Thrilled to her toes, Grace lay on her back and slid a hand down her belly to the juncture of her thighs.

  “I want you…want to feel you inside me,” she whispered. “I want to feel like I’m part of you.”

  Declan slid his body alongside hers and placed a hand over hers. Nearly ready to come at his first touch, she tugged at him and he moved over her, knees between her thighs. When she felt the pressure at her entrance, she shuddered and opened wider. The sensation of him filling her was nearly more than she could stand. Her hips came up as if of their own volition.

  Declan leaned forward and caught her wrists, bringing them up over her head. He tented her with his body, but he didn’t move. His bedroom gaze connected with hers and held. Then he began moving slowly, oh so slowly, a gentle rocking, barely noticeable. Pleasure hummed through Grace
.

  She rolled her hips in an attempt to set the rhythm faster and deeper. He stopped moving.

  “You’re driving me crazy, Declan McKenna.”

  “Good.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you to want me more than any man you’ve ever known.”

  He rolled and brought her with him so she was on top.

  Her rocking over him swung her breasts forward so they brushed his face. He drew a nipple into his mouth and suckled her. The sensation from that contact shot to every nerve. Mindless with desire, Grace fought to hold on so they could come together. She stared down into his face as he clung to her breast, working it until her head went light.

  His fingers explored below. If he touched her in just the right place, she would surely explode.

  She shifted her weight so they rolled together, leaving him on top. Lifting her legs to circle his thighs, she rode his hips. He was panting, now, fighting to hold back.

  Smiling, she reached out to touch his face and opened her mind.

  He grins down at her…a loopy grin unlike anything she’s seen before…he touches her stomach and then covers her face with kisses.

  Her heart is so full, she feels as if it’s about to burst.

  The euphoric feeling lasted beyond the vision, making Grace climb higher than ever before until Declan tensed. Freeing herself with him, she found new meaning in the fireworks in her mind.

  SOME HOURS LATER, the phone rang.

  Lounging in bed, Declan drowsily watched Grace reach over to get it. Outside, the wind was blowing and the sky darkening with threatening rain. But it was warm and cozy where they were and he couldn’t get enough of her. Nor could he resist cupping her breast.

  Grace took a look at the caller ID. “It’s my brother.” She put the receiver to her ear. “Hey, Corbett.” As she listened her smile slowly faded. “What?” Then the color in her face faded into a sickly white. “I don’t believe it. How?”