Sensuous Angel

by Heather Graham

  She held tightly to him for a minute, then struggled against the force of his arms, staring down at him again. “Are you really all right?” she asked softly.

  His lashes seemed to flicker and fall too easily. “Fine. They just gave me something…to relax me.”

  She chuckled softly. “Probably more to tame you down a bit!” she told him, then the laughter faded from her voice. “I’m so sorry about April, Luke.”

  His hand squeezed around hers. “I know.” He was silent for a minute. “I guess what hurts the worst is that I was so helpless.

  I wasn’t there…but later…so many times I’ve been able to do something. But with this…nothing.”

  She felt the pain in his voice, a haunting anguish. Yet she didn’t feel threatened by that first love, only that all that had been given her had been enriched by it. All that she wanted was to ease his sorrow in any way that she could. And all that she could think of to give him was a reinforcement of her own commitment.

  “I love you.”

  A smile flickered over her features, then faded. He reached out and touched her cheek, tenderly grazing it with his knuckles. “I could throttle you for following me tonight,” he said gruffly. “If anything would have happened….” He groaned. “It would have been my fault. For not telling you…all that you should have known.”

  “Blind faith, Father Luke,” Donna reprimanded him primly. “You have to learn to practice what you preach, my love.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  “Talk to me now, Luke,” she pleaded softly.

  His eyes opened for a minute, touched by the satanish gleam she knew so well. He released her hand to pat the bed. “Curl up beside me, gorgeous, and I’ll talk my heart out.”

  “Luke, this is a hospital—”

  “A private room. And besides,” he vowed with a trace of solemnity she didn’t really trust, “I plan to behave as well as any angel. I just want to feel you near me.”

  Donna hesitated, then complied, content with the warmth of his body, with the tender power of his arm wrapped around her.

  “What do you want to know? I’ll do my absolute best to be an open book.”

  She smiled, unable to resist the temptation to trace his dark brows with her forefinger. “Do I have to watch my thoughts at all times?” she quizzed him, only halfway teasing.

  He cast her a withering glance. “Very amusing. I should tell you yes. But that would be a lie.”

  “I’m sorry, Luke, I shouldn’t be joking.”

  His arm squeezed more tightly about her. He couldn’t resist the temptation to give her a slight brush against the full curve beyond her hip.

  “Sometimes,” he said, his eyes falling closed once again, “we have to joke about important things. Or else we take everything too seriously, and then we’re lost. I can’t read your mind. I don’t have special powers. Nor does God tiptoe into my dreams. To this, I think that science will one day have an answer. The human mind is far more complex than we’ve begun to know. Sometimes, only sometimes, I can sense things. And if it can help I have to try.”

  “I know. I’m proud of you.”

  “Are you really?”

  Donna nodded.

  She felt his shoulder muscles tense and relax as he shrugged. “I should have trusted you.”

  She kissed his forehead, his nose, and then his lips, very lightly. “Luke, I knew that I loved you and that was enough. I didn’t need to know anything more, but because I love you, I want to know you, to understand you completely.”

  His fingers threaded through her hair, smoothing its length in a tender caress. “You are extremely special, Donna,” he murmured. “More precious to me than I will ever be able to tell you.”

  He held her tightly, and Donna luxuriated in the strength of his love, loath to break away from him. It was a moment she savored; she knew him for all that he was, and she had never felt closer to anyone in her life. Nor had she known it was possible to feel so close, so a part of a man, in body and soul….

  “Really, Father!”

  Donna started wildly at the voice as a full, glaring light suddenly flooded the room. She jerked from Luke’s hold, blinking at the doorway. A stalwart nurse who resembled a Sherman tank was staring at them in horror.

  She glanced at Luke. He grimaced. “Relax, Mrs. Simon, this is my wife. Donna”—he gazed into her eyes with another grimace—“meet Mrs. Simon.”

  “Hello,” Donna said with a very radiant and a very false smile.

  Mrs. Simon moved into the room, plumping Luke’s pillow where Donna had been lying. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Trudeau,” the nurse said primly, “but this is a hospital, you know.”

  “Yes, I know,” Donna answered meekly.

  “Please keep that in mind.”

  “Oh, we will,” Luke said. Mrs. Simon muttered a little “hrrmph” and walked to the door. “Donna!” Luke said suddenly in a shocked and husky whisper. “Darling, please! You heard Mrs. Simon. Keep your hands off me!”

  Donna stared at him in horror, her jaw falling slack. Mrs. Simon stopped and spun around like a marionette. Donna was beet red, wishing she could smash Luke’s pillow over his gleaming eyes.

  Luke raised his hands high in the air. “Just kidding, Mrs. Simon.”

  With her nose lifted high in disapproval, Mrs. Simon stalked out of the room.

  “Pull another trick on me like that, Father, and I will have my hands all over you! Tightly—around your neck,” Donna threatened.

  “Hey, we had to liven up her night somehow. It must get dreary on the late shift.”

  “She’s going to liven me right out of this room,” Donna stated dryly. Then she stood suddenly.

  “Where are you going?” Luke demanded.

  “Home,” she told him, “but just for a minute. I want to clean up and grab a few things, then I’ll come back. I think that they’ll allow me to stay in the chair—if you haven’t convinced Mrs. Simon that we’re incapable of refraining from lewd and lascivious behavior, that is!”

  She thought that he would smile; a frown darkened his features instead. “It’s late. I don’t like the idea of your running around at night by yourself.”

  “I’ll be perfectly fine, Luke. I’ll find a cab home, and I’ll take a cab back.”

  His frown didn’t fade. He was obviously having more and more trouble keeping his eyes open, but he caught her wrist, and his grip was strong, far too strong for her to fight.

  “Donna, it’s too late—”

  “Luke, I have to get a few things. My clothes are a mess, my heel is broken and—oh! I won’t have to go alone. Andrew is downstairs. I’ll get him to come with me.”

  His hold slowly relaxed. “Okay, but come back quickly.”

  “I will,” she promised, as she brushed a little kiss against his brow. She would, she repeated in a silent vow. She’d never be away from him when she didn’t have to be. And if Mrs. Sherman tank had anything to say about it, it would be just too bad, Donna decided firmly.

  With that determination in mind, Donna smiled and left the room.

  Luke watched her go, still frowning. For some reason, he didn’t like it. “Donna!” he called her, but she was gone. And whatever it was that they had given him now caused him to close his eyes.

  He gave up and allowed his lids to fall heavily. She was going to be with Andrew. She would be fine. He was just feeling a little spooked because of the night’s events. Foolish. Pierce was safely in custody.

  A little shudder rippled through him. When he had seen her on the ground, he had never known such fear. But it had ended up okay. Donna was all right, and he was fine or would be, just as soon as morning came and they let him out of his whitewashed, antiseptic world.

  His thoughts became incoherent. Donna…Andrew…Lorna….

  Donna knew everything there was to know about him: the dark secrets, the inside things that he had always guarded so closely. And she still loved him….It was a sweet, sweet dream with which to sleep.
<
br />   Andrew was not downstairs. Distraught, Donna searched the quiet halls, but he was nowhere to be found. The E.R. doctor on duty was not the same man she had seen, and when she described Andrew, the man shook his head blankly and assured her that he hadn’t seen him.

  Donna hesitated for a minute, certain that Luke would be upset if he learned that she had gone home alone.

  Naturally. It had been a traumatic night and it was nice that he was so concerned for her. But it was also a little foolish for him to worry. She could get a taxi, ask it to wait, and come right back. Luke wouldn’t even need to know. She was certain that he had fallen asleep as soon as she had left the room.

  The desk clerk in the emergency reception area directed her to a phone and she called for a taxi. Congratulating herself on her good sense, she waited within the glass doors of the emergency entrance until she saw the cab pull up.

  The driver was a pleasant, talkative man. A native of New York City, streetwise, and interesting as he pointed out buildings of lesser importance in the neon glow of night. Donna feigned polite attention; she hadn’t known until she was away from Luke just how much everything was preying on her mind.

  She had promised him that nothing mattered; that she loved him. And she meant it. She couldn’t imagine life without him now. He was everything good that a woman could want in a man; a rebel in his way, but she knew that his occasional taunts bordering on the irreverent were the lighthearted comments of a very reverent man.

  But what was life going to be? They had only just started off on a path that was difficult in the best of situations: marriage. And now…she was frightened.

  “Is this it?”

  “Yes!” Donna exclaimed, getting quickly out of the cab. “Just keep the meter running. I’ll be right out.”

  “Sure thing!”

  Donna rushed into the house. Apparently someone had called Mary. She was gone, but the house was as neat as a pin. There was a brief note from her on the dining-room table saying that she hoped everything was fine, and that dinner was in the refrigerator and could be reheated.

  Donna grimaced. Once reminded about food, she was starving. But she had a cab waiting, and she was sure she could find something to eat at the hospital, even if it was only junk food from a machine.

  She hurried into the bedroom and dug out an overnight bag. She rushed around throwing things into it. Toothbrushes, a razor, Luke’s robe, jeans and a shirt, and whatever else struck her as a necessity from the bathroom. With the not so neatly packed bag full, she slammed it shut and rummaged in the closet for fresh clothing. She chose a heavy sweater and a pair of cords, certain that the hospital room would stay cool through the night. She was shivering there, and she knew that hospitals had a tendency to keep the heat low.

  Donna gazed longingly at the shower, then reminded herself that she had no time. She undressed quickly and donned the fresh clothing, sitting at the edge of the bed to zip on her boots again.

  She frowned, suddenly still and tense. The zip sound had seemed to continue after her boot was already secure on her foot.

  She held her breath, straining to listen. She could hear the steady tick of the bedside clock, something she never paid any attention to. She could hear the muted sounds of traffic and the quiet within the house. But then it came again. A soft rustling sound, like leaves in the wind—or sheets of paper being rummaged.

  Her frown deepened; a shaft of arctic cold raced along her spine. Then she exhaled, the furrows of her frown becoming those of a dry grimace.

  The sounds were coming from the study. It had to be Andrew.

  She had to be crazy, she told herself as she left the room to walk down the hall. She was married to a psychic priest and had an unkempt undercover cop for a brother-in-law who made all his visit entrances through the windows. But she was happy.

  Then it occurred to Donna that it was really an occasion of déjà-vu, and the last time she had heard noises in the study and hurried down the hallway, the nocturnal visitor had been Lorna. Her heart quickened. Was it Lorna? Had something gone wrong? Was she coming to Donna because…? Because of what? If it was Lorna again, Donna didn’t want her to run. She felt her breath come in a rush as she neared the door, and without thinking, she began to hurry, heedlessly calling out in a soft tone. “Lorna! It’s Donna. Don’t—”

  She stopped in the doorway. It wasn’t Lorna, and it wasn’t Andrew. Two men were in the study, dark clad and wearing ski masks. The ridiculous thought hit her that there was no place to ski in Manhattan. Of course not. They were wearing dark ski masks because they were going through Luke’s desk.

  They were as surprised to see her as she was to see them. But the shock didn’t last more than a second. Donna spun about like a whirlwind to run. If she could just reach the front door, she could scream. The taxi driver would be there, and the prowlers would know that an alarm could be radioed in immediately.

  The hall had never seemed so long. She was light and agile—and terrified. She could run, and run fast, especially with the strength of the flowing adrenaline.

  But just as she reached for the door, her feet were swept from beneath her. The floor rushed up to meet her, hard. A strangled cry tore from her lips, of self-preservation, of pain as the breath was wrenched from her lungs and the impact bruised her flesh. She didn’t get a chance to cry out again. A hand clamped over her mouth and she was dragged to her feet. Tears stung her eyes, and she tried to bite. Someone muttered out an oath. A second later the hand was replaced by a dirty scarf.

  “I thought you said they were both at the hospital!” one of the men whispered angrily to the other, who was busy binding her hands behind her back.

  “They were!” the other snapped back.

  Donna kept struggling as she was dragged back into the study.

  “Throw her on the sofa, and keep an eye on her!” the first man ordered.

  “Why? We might as well get out of here. I’ve been through the desk. Nothing but bills, sermons, and calendars. If the priest has anything, he ain’t got it here.”

  “I know he’s in on it somehow! This is where I followed the girl!”

  “Yeah, and it’s where you lost her.”

  Donna landed unceremoniously on the sofa. She lay there stunned, remaining still. She had assumed at first that she had interrupted an ordinary pair of burglars. Ordinary! A moment’s faintness gripped her. She breathed deeply, praying that it would pass. Her head cleared. They weren’t ordinary burglars, however “ordinary” a burglar could be. They were after Lorna, and they were riffling through the desk and the bookcase again, assuming that Luke had some clue to her whereabouts somewhere.

  Suddenly the first one—Red Cap, as she was coming to label him in her mind—stopped, turned around, and stared at her through the eyeholes of the tight ski cap.

  “What are you doing?” the second man, Blue Cap, demanded. “We’ve got to get something, and get out of here.”

  “We’ve got something,” Red Cap said in a deathly tone that seemed to grip Donna’s throat and squeeze.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He pointed a leather-gloved finger toward Donna. “Her.”

  She knew her eyes widened with fear; her breath seemed to catch, her heart to skip a beat.

  “No!” Blue Cap’s voice gave her paralyzed heart a moment’s flutter of hope. “Listen, I ain’t in this for anything big. I was hired to riffle through a house; no one said anything to me about kidnapping.”

  “Woman-napping,” Red Cap corrected. “Hey,” he cajoled. “The big man wants the blonde. The blonde came here. I’d say that just might mean that the priest’s lovely little wife might know where to find the blonde. What do you say?”

  “I’d say that it’s kidnapping. That I could be put away for the rest of my youth.”

  “What youth?” Red Cap taunted. “If we find the blonde for the big guy, we could be worth enough for you to enjoy a few years out at a nice, remote island with lots of wine, women, and song. Thi
nk about it.”

  “It is kidnapping!” Donna tried to shout. All that came out was a muffled plea, which sent Red Cap into gales of laughter.

  His laughter cut off abruptly as he turned cold, steely eyes to his companion. “You’re in this with me, and I’m taking her.”

  Before Blue Cap could answer, a thunderous knock sounded at the front door. “Hey, lady!” Donna felt another surge of hope as she heard the cab driver’s yell, faint behind the closed door and beyond the long hallway. “Lady! Lady, are you coming? You owe me a fare, you know! If you don’t want to pay up, I’ll be happy to call the police!”

  The surge of hope swelled high within her, as strong as a tidal wave. And it was swept away as quickly as the tide.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Red Cap snapped. He disappeared but not out the window. He moved to the hallway. Blue Cap stared at Donna uncertainly. But then Red Cap was back, Luke’s dark-blue bedspread in his arms.

  It was the last thing Donna was to see for some time. Red Cap threw it over her. With as little ceremony, he reached for her, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed for the window.

  A few seconds later she was tossed onto something hard. She heard an engine rev, felt vibrations on the cold flooring beneath her. Gas fumes caused her to cough. Then she was jolted about as the vehicle drew into the street.

  Luke! she thought with panic and poignancy. He had told her not to leave him….

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “LUKE!”

  He heard his name called, as if from a great distance, or from deep within a dream. Dream. That was it. He had fallen asleep, and he was dreaming.

  Still groggy, he half smiled, savoring the sweet, indolent feeling of being half asleep, half awake. Conscious thoughts joined the subconscious. Donna. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. She had whispered his name; she was back.

  He opened his eyes, stretching and turning, expecting to see her sitting in the bedside chair, watching him with those thick-lashed, sultry blue eyes. The chair was empty; so was the room.