Touched by Lightning [Dreams of You] (Romantic Suspense)

by Tina Wainscott

  He wanted to reach out and touch her hair, touch her skin, her hand, anything, just to make sure she was real. He also knew that would violate any trust she might ever have in him, so he remained there waiting for her to acknowledge him. Every second seemed balanced on a fine wire. To say a word, to move any closer, would shatter that balance.

  He didn’t have to say anything. Nikki’s fingers nervously toyed with the edge of the delicate paper, then she looked up at him. The blast of emotion at seeing her for the first time in the flesh made him take a step back. Part of her soul lived within his; he had felt her heartbeat surrounding him. She was more beautiful than he ever imagined. Her haunting green eyes seemed filled with all the mysteries of the rain forest, tinged with the gray of rain clouds. Her full lips were parted in surprise, as if she were about to say something but nothing would come. He found that suddenly his voice didn’t work either. And if he didn’t say something soon, she would think he was a creepy stalker.

  More unnerving than the feeling you were being watched was looking up to find the watcher standing only a few feet away blatantly staring at you. Nikki looked at the man who stood by the cherry wood railing and who appeared as surprised as she felt. Even more unnerving was that he had the most gorgeous eyes she had ever seen. It seemed insane to even notice something like that after all this time. Bedroom eyes, dark brown, sloped to give them warmth. Dark, straight eyebrows formed a ridge above them.

  Her first instinct was to look away and ignore the man, as she had ignored the many men who came here. She felt paralyzed, unable to draw her eyes away from him. There was something about him, something indefinable that shivered through her body and made her heart quicken. Then he smiled. He had a sensuous mouth surrounded by a soft-looking beard, and a smile that filled his eyes with compassion.

  “Is this where the Bible study meets?” he asked in a low, smooth voice.

  She blinked, trying to break out of his spell, and glanced down at the Bible in her hands. “Uh, this group is for women only.” She glanced at the empty chairs. “It’s a small group today.”

  He smiled again. “I can see that.”

  “I think the men’s group meets later tonight. You can ask Dave about it. He’s the guy in the white sweater.”

  “I’ll do that.” But he didn’t leave.

  What was it about him that gave her a funny feeling inside? When he finally pushed away from the railing, she felt a peculiar longing and buried herself back in her Bible. The man walked around and sat by her at the table. Despite her strange feelings, she wished he would go away. In her world, she could trust no one. For some reason, the rudeness she was always able to summon did not come. She wanted to ignore him but found herself looking at him.

  “I’m Adrian Nash.” He held out his hand to her.

  She looked at his hand, large and strong, suspended over the table. When she had decided to ignore the gesture, her hand moved hesitantly to his without her permission. His hand was warm and soft, and that warmth seeped down her arm and into her stomach.

  “I’m Nikki,” she almost whispered back, finding the will to look back at the pages. The words swam in front of her. Her hand tingled from his touch. She couldn’t remember ever having that happen, even when her life was normal. Even when she first met Jack Barton.

  His finger grazed the binding on the Bible. That action made her stomach clench, as if he were touching her.

  “Have you ever read this from front to back?” he asked.

  She shook her head, pushing away her mind’s straying thoughts. “No. Have you?”

  “Yep. My father made me when I was a kid.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you a preacher?”

  He laughed out loud, lighting up his whole face. She noticed slight dimples beneath his brown beard. “No, not quite. I’m a construction worker. I came down here because a friend said there was plenty of work. When I got here, there was no work and no friend. I guess he went somewhere else. Right now I have nothing. I sold what little I had to come down here. I figured I could hang out with him until I found a job.”

  From his build and olive skin, she could believe he was a construction worker much more easily than she could imagine him a preacher. “You should go home. You don’t want to live here like this.” She gestured vaguely behind her. She’d seen some of them come and stay for years, living on nothing more than hope. “You don’t seem like one of the usuals around here.”

  He looked thoughtful at that, tapping his long fingers on the table. The waves of his dark hair looked soft and shiny.

  The muscles in his jaws tensed. “You don’t seem like a usual around here either.”

  Nikki stood then, gently closing the Bible. “I have to go.” She really had to go. The way he made her feel...it was too eerie.

  He stood, too, but didn’t try to keep her there. “Don’t you stay here?”

  “No. Goodbye.”

  Every part of her wanted to go back, but she couldn’t trust anyone, not even those who drew her to them. Besides, the feeling was probably because it had been a long time since she’d seen a gorgeous man up close. It couldn’t be anything else. Without looking back, she left the Lord’s Shelter and headed toward her own shelter parked behind the building.

  The next morning Nikki foisted the plastic bag with her dirty clothes onto the dryer with a resounding thud. The Laundromat was open-aired, with only a roof for protection from the elements. Still, the equipment was stained with rust, though whoever owned it kept it running and clean inside and out. The snack machines had been removed a year ago when vandals kept smashing the glass and making off with the goodies inside. She longed for a Snickers bar.

  After sorting the darks and whites, she put a dollar’s worth of quarters into the slots and started the first machine. Four years ago, she’d never even smelled laundry detergent; the maid seemed like an elf, whisking away the dirty clothes and returning them in neat piles or on hangers.

  When she heard the scuffling noise, she whirled around. “Crackers!” She knelt down to the mutt and scratched his head, then pulled out the food for which he’d been named. Crackers was only a puppy, a lab mix, she guessed, the mix being some smaller dog. He lived somewhere in the area, though he wore no tag and always looked bony. She scratched his head as he slurped on another cracker.

  “You sure make my laundry days nicer, sweetie.” His tail whipped from side to side, carrying his whole back end with it. “I wish I could keep you, but it would be impossible.”

  She hugged him, despite the fact that he was dirty and probably riddled with fleas. Last summer she’d given him a few impromptu baths beneath a faucet out back. He’d been so soft and clean afterward, and she swore he looked happier for it. Now it was too cold to get him wet.

  After the food was gone, Crackers wandered around sniffing the area, and she searched through the library of books that had been forming for the last year. Thank goodness thieves didn’t consider books worth stealing.

  She had started the library, installing a shelf and donating the first paperback. The following week, the book was gone. The next week another book appeared, and after that, the little library had built so that there was always a new book to read while she waited for her laundry to get done. She wrapped her coat around herself and settled in a plastic chair with a romance novel.

  She was two chapters in when Crackers barked sharply and started running through the empty lot toward the road. A scruffy-looking cat on the other side jumped on the window ledge, but that didn’t deter Crackers any. It was an overcast day, and the puppy’s beige coat blended in with the dirt he was running across. When Nikki heard the car’s engine, her heart jumped.

  A white Mustang pulled around the corner. The car wasn’t going very fast, and perhaps if he’d been going faster, Crackers would’ve made it across the street safely. Nikki screamed as she watched the car swerve to avoid the dog. Crackers hit the bumper and was knocked across the street. She ran crying across the empty lot, call
ing Crackers’s name, and watching the car continue around the corner. She didn’t have enough time for anger that the driver didn’t stop. The dog lay still, his leg at an odd angle and bloodied. She cradled him in her arms, and he whimpered.

  “Crackers, don’t die. Please don’t die.” He was a mangy mutt to anyone else, but he was a her friend.

  “Nikki, what happened?” She looked up to see Adrian running across the lot toward her, his face pale.

  “Someone hit Crackers,” she said through her tears. “Then they just left.” She stroked the dog’s snout, her fingers trembling.

  He moved her hand away. “He might bite you. Not on purpose, but because he’s scared.” Adrian pulled off his sweater, removed his shirt, and wrapped it around Crackers’s mouth. Goosebumps immediately stippled his skin. He inspected the dog, murmuring softly to him. “I don’t see anything too serious, but his leg might be broken. Do you know where the closest vet is?”

  She had already been thinking that. “The animal hospital is about ten blocks away. I can take you there.”

  He looked at her, and she didn’t care if he thought she was silly. She didn’t realize how much Crackers had come to mean to her. Taking her by surprise, he reached over and wiped away her tears with his thumb.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.” Then that compassion she’d seen in his eyes turned all business as he scanned the area. “I need a board to put him on in case he has a back injury.”

  Nikki ran to the Laundromat structure where the old sign still leaned against the back wall. With supreme gentleness, Adrian slid the pup onto the board, then hefted both. His muscles strained the material of the bulky sweater he’d put back on while she’d been gone.

  “Do you want me to help carry him?” she asked as they headed in the direction she’d indicated.

  “No, I’ve got him. Just...hold his paw or something.”

  Nikki kept stroking Crackers’s head and whispering sweetly as they walked the ten blocks to the hospital. Adrian felt like the biggest goon on earth. That dog had come out of nowhere, and he tried hard to miss him. His heart had sunk when he heard the thump. But he’d also heard Nikki’s screams, and when he saw her running toward the puppy, he had to keep going. How could he explain driving a rental car like that if he didn’t have a job? So he did the next best thing, which was pull into a back alley behind some brown van and pretend that he happened to be walking by. Her crying nearly crushed him inside.

  “He didn’t even stop,” she was saying, shaking her head. “It wasn’t his fault, but he could’ve stopped.”

  Adrian stepped up their pace, guilt pressing down on him. Was this foreshadowing the risk he would bring to her? “Maybe he was in a hurry or didn’t know he hit him. You said he swerved.”

  She let out a sigh, continuing to pet the dog. “Yeah, maybe. But if I ever see that car again, I’m going to throttle the driver.”

  “Did you see who was driving? Was it a man or woman?”

  “I’m not sure. All I could see was dark hair, like yours. It was sort of long, so maybe it was a woman.”

  Adrian fought the urge to wrinkle his nose. His hair was only just past his shoulder. “Well, you know those women drivers.” She eyed him but didn’t respond. Her attention was fully absorbed by the pup.

  “It doesn’t matter what gender they were.” Her lower lip trembled. “Why couldn’t they have stopped? What is wrong with people? A human life, or the life of an innocent animal, means nothing to them.” Her eyes narrowed, and she was staring into the distance. “Especially if they gain something from it.”

  Adrian knew her anger went deeper than some uncaring heel not stopping after hitting a dog.

  When they reached the hospital, the doctor took the puppy in right away. Nikki paced like a worried parent, and Adrian stood at the window cursing himself for not swerving fast enough, and for the charade that prevented him from driving to the hospital. He wanted a cigarette badly, and was almost desperate enough for something in his mouth that the dog biscuits on the counter looked tempting.

  “You don’t have to wait here with me,” she said, waking him out of his trance of guilt. “I mean, I appreciate your help. I’m not sure I could have carried him all this way without collapsing.”

  He was sure she couldn’t; Crackers was a big puppy, especially when he was dead weight. Unconscious weight, he mentally corrected.

  “I don’t mind. I know you’re worried.”

  Worried sick. She twisted her hands and paced, glancing at the door Crackers had been taken through. He wanted to make sure the puppy was all right so he could see relief replace the grief on her expression. Red tear tracks marred her lovely skin, and red rimmed her green eyes. Her wavy hair was braided in the back; she’d had it tucked beneath her coat earlier. He noticed that she had blood on her hands.

  He took her hand, but she jerked away from him. The mistrust in her eyes nailed a spike through his heart, though he couldn’t blame her. He wanted to help her; nothing more.

  “You’ve got blood on your hands,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “I should wash them,” she said, her voice an unnatural pitch. She asked an employee where the bathroom was and disappeared inside.

  Adrian quickly walked up to the counter. “I want to pay the bill, but I don’t want her to know.” He nodded toward the bathroom, then handed the receptionist two hundred-dollar bills. “Put this toward the vet’s costs. If it’s more, I’ll come back in tomorrow and pay the rest.”

  The pretty blonde eyed him as she took his money. “Is the dog yours? Or hers?”

  “Neither. But she cares about that dog, and I don’t want her to feel responsible for the bill. Just tell her there is no charge since the dog’s not hers, or whatever you want.”

  The woman smiled, but he didn’t miss the curious appraisal she gave his attire. He didn’t care, as long as that dog was all right.

  It had been a long time since Nikki had experienced this kind of agonized wait in a sterile place. Last time it was in a courthouse, two years ago, with reporters clamoring for a juicy tidbit and everyone else looking at her with pity. She forced herself to sit down on the black leather couch, but watching Adrian pace near the desk didn’t settle her nerves at all. His hands were jammed in his pockets, stretching the faded linen of his blue pants tightly across his buttocks. He had taken his sweater off and rolled the sleeves up on his too-large white shirt, showing strong forearms. He glanced at her every few minutes, and she quickly averted her gaze, pretending for the umpteenth time to study the chart of dog breeds on the wall.

  It was silly to even notice a man that way. More so, it was rarer yet to find such a specimen in her world. Most of the men her age who came through this part of town were into drugs, evident by trembling hands and the glazed look in their eyes. Adrian was healthy, and his warm, brown eyes were filled with life. He’d only recently fallen on hard times, so he hadn’t given up yet. He’d said she didn’t fit in there. This was the one place her life depended on fitting in.

  Nikki had to admit it was fortunate that he happened to be around the corner when Crackers got hit. Suspicion made her heartbeat slow. Or was it a coincidence? She looked at Adrian through wary eyes, trying to see some sign of deceit. What had Ulyssis said about the man who had come into the gallery with a sketch that looked like her? She couldn’t remember him saying anything about his physicality. She did remember the name on the card, though: A. Wilde. A as in Adrian, maybe? Still, A. Wilde had only asked about a woman who looked like her. It had to be a coincidence that he’d also bought her collection.

  When Nikki glanced up at Adrian again, she felt silly for her thoughts. He was rubbing his temple, an expression of worry on his handsome face. Most hired killers didn’t give a whit about people, much less animals. Physically, Adrian could fit the bill: strong, large, with an air of determination about him. Something in her heart stirred, a strange ticklish feeling, as he turned to catch her staring at him. She looked
down at her fidgeting hands, though it took all of her will to tear her eyes away.

  The door behind Adrian opened, and a short, thin man walked out. “You brought in the dog that was hit by a car?” when they nodded, he said, “He’s fine. And very lucky.” He glanced at his papers. “Cracker?”

  “Crackers,” Nikki quickly corrected, though she didn’t know why. Other than her name for him, the dog was a Rover Doe.

  “Crackers sustained a broken right leg. It was a simple break. Do you own this dog?”

  “No,” she answered quietly.” I think he’s a stray.”

  “Oh.” The doctor’s expression looked grave. “In that case, I’ll call the Humane Society. He’s going to need some care before he’s healed.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” she found herself volunteering, immediately wanting to take those words back. How would she be able to take care of a dog when she lived in a van? Even as a puppy, Crackers would take up half the floor space. Still, she couldn’t bear the thought of his absence at the Laundromat, or the thought that he’d be put to sleep.

  “I’m going to have to give him his vaccines. If he’s a stray, I’m sure he hasn’t had them. The anesthesia should wear off soon, and then I can release him. Keep a close eye on him and check his excretions for blood. That would indicate internal injuries, though the x-rays didn’t show any. Don’t let him play or jump around. He’ll be in a cast for about four to six weeks, depending on how fast it heals. Bring him back in two weeks for a follow-up.”

  When he handed the paperwork to the woman behind the counter, Nikki suddenly realized there would be a bill to pay. From her recent sale, she had enough to live on for a few months, even with Crackers’s extra food added on. One vet bill could deplete the whole thing, and most homeless shelters didn’t give extra food for pets.

  “How much do I owe you?” she asked, cringing in anticipation.

  The woman asked, “The dog isn’t yours, is he?”