by Nancy Gideon
When she didn't respond, he took that for her wanting to mull it over some more. He wouldn't push, as promised. He just hoped he had the luxury of time.
What he did receive was the luxury of her kiss as she tipped her head back to make that offer. His acceptance was slow and sweetly tender, making her sigh and reach up for him, her arms going about his neck. To earn a sudden wince of pain.
Instantly solicitous, she gently tested the boundaries of the lump at the base of his skull, chiding, "How could you worry about my problems after what you've been through?"
He shrugged, provoking another twinge. "Just another day at the office. I'll be fine."
"And your hands?"
"They'll be healed by morning. Don't worry about me."
"Is that fair? You, insisting that you can fuss over me when I can't do the same."
"Okay, you can fuss a little," he allowed, sinking into the damp heat of her mouth to end the discussion.
The sound, like a small, frightened animal, broke them apart. Amber immediately pulled from Rico's embrace. He released her the instant he equated the mewling cries as Evangeline's.
As he opened the bedroom door, Amber a step behind him, Rico heard the girl's plaintive call.
"Mama, he's hurting me! Make him stop!"
Light flooded the room. Evie sat in a tangle of covers, blinking awake, face tear-streaked, hugged her left arm to heaving chest. The instant she saw Rico, she lunged into his embrace, clinging and trembling, scaring the holy hell out of him.
"You're okay. I got you, Angel. I got you."
Amber stood back, watching the two together with a curious sense of exclusion. She was the one her daughter always reached for in the darkness of her dreams. To be replaced by another unsettled her, but seeing Rico had things under control, she went into the bathroom to pour some water and wet one of the sumptuous wash cloths. By the time she returned, Rico was sitting on the edge of the mattress, Evie wrapped around him like a clinging monkey, sobbing fretfully against his shoulder. He made all the right consoling sounds as his gaze lifted to hers. She expected to see a disconcerted look of being in over his head, but he wasn't. He was calm, comforting . . . and murderously angry. There'd be no escaping his demand for answers this time.
Chapter 15
Amber sat next to him to lightly sponge the girl's flushed face and murmur quiet assurances. Eventually, sniffles ebbed and Evie relaxed, but the instant Rico tried moving her, her grasped tighten again.
With an apologetic look at him, Amber coaxed her daughter to let him go, thinking she was sleepy enough to obey. Instead, she whined, "I want Rico. He won't come back if Rico's here."
Without a word, Rico lay down, settling the dozing girl against his side within the curl of one arm. With a relieved sigh, she drifted back to sleep.
Amber could feel his stare on her as she crossed the room to turn out the light then returned to crawl into bed next to her child, pulling the covers over the three of them. Silence settled except for Evangeline's occasional snuffle. She almost thought it safe to relax when Rico spoke quietly.
"When you told Colin you were used to dealing with an invalid because your daughter broke her arm, I thought you meant she'd done it playing or some such thing. But it was done to her, wasn't it?" When she said nothing, he growled, "Did your brother hurt her?"
"No!"
"Her father?"
"I told you, he doesn't know she exists."
But he wouldn't let it go. "Your father. Is that who you're hiding from?"
"You're not the only one who was raised by a selfish monster," she whispered back at him, tone fierce yet faint. Pressing her face into the spill of blonde hair, she closed her eyes against the burn of fear and helpless anger at what she'd been unable to prevent.
Rico touched her shoulder, a light press. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone, but you’re not alone anymore. You’re safe with me." So gently said, his sentiment encompassed everything weighing upon her heart.
Words she’d dreamed of hearing her whole life.
* * * * *
Amber wouldn't have believed sleep possible yet opened her eyes to daylight and the surprise of being nose-to-nose with her prince. Her head rested on his outstretched arm, his other draped over the curve of her waist. He was asleep, and they were alone in his bed.
Before she had a chance to ease away, his eyes blinked open then widened.
"Hey," he muttered, gradually stretching like a big, lazy animal then cinching her up tight against him. They were both dressed, which gave her a moment’s pause. He’d started to move in to kiss her when his nostrils flared.
"Do I smell breakfast?"
The intrusion of time, space and circumstance filtered in at last, slipping an awkward barrier between them. Rico settled for an unsatisfying touch of his lips to the tip of her nose before rolling out of bed to follow his to the kitchen. Amber took her time, processing the events of the night before, trying to decide how to handle them.
Had things changed between the three of them? Was there no going back to the cautious distance she preferred to keep yet was suddenly anxious to sweep away in favor of the words he’d whispered?
“You’re safe with me.”
If she had doubts, the sight of the two of them standing at the stove sent them scattering. Rico sneaking a strip of bacon, Evie trying to swat him with a spoon, him so large and protective, her so innocently trusting. The two she loved more than life.
Rico glanced her way, still grinning. The flare of heat in his eyes incinerated all doubts on the spot.
“Hey,” he called. “Get it while it’s hot.”
While it’s hot . . .
With his still sleep-heavy eyes, in his rumpled tee shirt and a bit too revealing sweat pants, the hot that came to mind wasn’t breakfast until he reminded, “This kid’s got school. Cab’ll be here in twenty.”
While she was steered toward the table, Rico and Evie made an efficient tandem in the kitchen, filling and passing plates, her so slight and serious, him so happy and . . . hot.
She could have this every morning of every day.
They devoured the egg scramble Evie had created from the contents of Rico’s now well-stocked refrigerator, man and child talking non-stop about her upcoming day. It was all Amber could do to swallow past the tightness in her throat, the scene so perfect . . . too perfect to be real.
Evie shooed them away, insisting on cleaning up. Rico followed her into his bathroom, surprising her with two brand new toothbrushes, one pink, one red laid out next to his blue.
“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” was all he said.
The intimacy of sharing a mirror while scrubbing and spitting had her trembling to her toes. It seemed like forever ago when they shared that bed alone and she’d looked forward to a private, awkward, exciting morning after a night of great sex that never happened. But somehow, this was more personal, more emotionally intense. Instead of an uncertain teetertotter of just the two of them, they were becoming that stable triangle of three. A wonderful and truly terrifying possibility resting on one tentative point.
Trust.
Could she trust him with the truth, with her past, with her fears? With her child and their future? And beyond that, would he still want her once she revealed all?
Their gazes met in the mirror.
Her confusion must have shown because he paused mid-swish to ask, "You okay?"
Amber shook off her uncertainty to smile. "Sure. I was just thinking this is the first time I've ever shared a bathroom sink with a man."
His brows lifted. "Oh? I'm really very tidy. Just in case you were thinking of making it a habit."
She laughed to scatter her nervousness. "There's hardly room in mine for me, let alone company."
Lids lowered speculatively over those warm, tawny eyes. "Maybe you've just outgrown where you're living, and it's time to think about upgrading."
Before she could stammer something inane like "Are you asking me to mov
e in?" Evie hollered, "Mom, c'mon! I can't be late!"
Amber shook off that wistful folly. Of course, he wasn't. There was no room for the two of them in his one-bedroom bachelor abode.
"Just a sec," she called back, slipping out from under the situation with a quick rinse of her brush without making further eye contact. Coward!
Evie waited in the living area, pacing in impatience, having changed in the guest bath. She gave her mother a curious look that became a little too assumptive seeing Rico close behind her.
"What time do you get out of school, squirt?" Rico asked, as if such a question was part of their daily routine. "If your mom's still at work, I'll pick you up, and we can get you a new phone. She'll feel a lot better being able to reach you. I’ll put my number in it in case you need to reach me.”
Chafing at his assumptions, Amber countered, "I don't like her riding on a motorcycle."
"MooOOoom!"
Rico waved off the girl's protest and turned on his most charming smile. The one that blinded all common sense. "I'll have my new car by then. She can help me break it in."
"W-when did this happen?" was all Amber could think to say.
"I texted my guy last night while we were watching TV. Paperwork and wheels should arrive in time for lunch."
Her jaw dropped. "Just like that?"
"Yeah."
Her teeth snapped together at his cavalier reply. "Oh, that's right. I forgot you're one of the lords of the universe."
He smiled. "No. Just a prince." He winked at Evie to earn a broad grin. Before Amber could find a rebuttal, the door buzzed and Rico announced, "There's your ride."
"Three-thirty," Evie put in quickly. "How will I find you?"
The smile became a grin. "You'll spot me without any trouble." To Amber, he asked, "Do you want me to bring her here?"
"No. Take her home so she can get her work done."
How stiff and reluctant she sounded to her own ears, but Rico didn't seem to notice as he helped her on with her worn coat. His hands lingered on her upper arms, and suddenly she was shivering as he turned her toward him to murmur, "We'll be waiting. You have a good day."
Before she could wrangle a reply, he bent and kissed her. A will-shattering, soul-sucking kiss, with no tongue in deference to their audience, but still . . . He straightened, looking smugly pleased, while Amber blinked, touching unsteady fingertips to well-used lips, circuits fried, power to form words or even sounds abandoning her. If he hadn't held to her arm, she might have disappeared into the plush carpet.
"You, too," he told Evie, opening his other arm so she could burrow in to him for an enthusiastic hug.
"I will. 'Bye, Rico. Thanks . . . for everything. C'mon, Mom. Mom?"
A mental shake to restore capacity for thought, and Amber followed her to the door, aware only of the way Rico’s big hand fit between her shoulder blades.
Time to think about upgrading?
She couldn't think about anything else as they rode down in the elevator, until she noticed Evie gaping up at her, marveling, "That was something. Better than anything on TV."
His kiss.
Amber would have argued, but she couldn't disagree.
* * * * *
Rico stood in the center of his living room. All life had been sucked out the moment the door closed behind them.
Her father. Her brother. What kind of life had Amber James and her daughter lived? He’d just uncovered the tip of that horrific iceberg, and carefully chipping away a cube at a time wasn’t going to cut it. Not when their safety was at stake. If he pushed for answers, he’d come up against that glacial wall Amber had erected between them in her kitchen the night before. He couldn’t protect them if he couldn’t stay close, so he had to get to the center of her secrets another way. Because the threat to Evie was very real.
He could go to Auguste and beat the facts out of him, but would what he learned be the truth? Gus was Amber’s brother, a bond he knew well was difficult to break. Still he couldn’t believe even a lying, cheating S.O.B. like Auguste would purposefully harm his niece.
Frustration rubbed his temper raw. Fierce waves rose higher with each inhalation of their scent. Mother and daughter, soon to be his if he had any say in it. No one threatened what was his. A low growl vibrated up from his dangerous soul, goading him to act with deadly force as he paced the cage of his wealth like a wild thing. What good was money and power if helpless to act? He didn’t know where to focus that rage seething inside.
His. For the first time, something was his. Something worth fighting for, dying for. Living for. And he wouldn’t screw it up by letting instinct overwhelm purpose.
Start with the immediate threat then work up to the rest.
* * * * *
The sight of Colin’s old T-bird parked on the street filled Rico with a strange sense of comfort. His brother would know what to do. But his knock wasn’t answered by the calm, cynical sage.
“Rico?”
The sight of Mia Guedry Terriot no longer sent his world spinning. She wasn’t the answer he needed.
“Colin here?”
“No. He took the girls back last night.”
Sighing with a sympathetic sadness as well as his own disappointment, he started to turn away. “Could you tell him I was looking for him?”
Her hand on his arm stilled him.
“He should be home any minute. Come in. I just put coffee on.” She stepped back inside, leaving the door open and him with no chance to object as she went into the small kitchen, pulling out a chair for him at the breakfast bar when he would have preferred the less personal space of the living room. The instant he settled, she had a cup of coffee in front of him and took the seat opposite.
“Are you okay?”
She rubbed his forearm, the movement unsettling rather than providing the comfort she intended. He drew back to cradle the warm cup in both hands, muttering, “Sure,” knowing she wouldn’t believe that for a second.
Not offended by his distance, Mia offered, “You can still talk to me, you know.”
“Not about this.” Hearing the rudeness in his voice, Rico quickly amended, “Thanks, but not this time.”
She nodded, taking no offence, which made him feel even worse, forcing him to be civil. “How are you feeling?”
Her hand went to her middle, features warming like a sunrise. “I’m awesome. Thanks for asking.”
Tension fell from his shoulders. “Colin okay?”
A glimmer in her eyes betrayed her. “He didn’t want to let them go.”
Rico nodded. “Yeah. I know how he feels.”
Mia perked up. “Really? Are these new paternal feelings directed someplace in particular?” His cheeks warmed, encouraging her grin, but his solemnity returned her focus. “And that’s the problem?” No response. “We used to be friends, Rico. I could use one, too.”
Before he could answer, the door opened. Colin filled the frame, the heavy sadness pulling at his features replaced by questions. Mia rose without a word, enfolding her mate in her arms, his head to her shoulder, holding him just long enough for Rico to grow uncomfortable.
Finally, she asked, "Everything go okay?"
"Better than expected. We can talk about it later."
When they were alone. Rico didn't need a shove out the door. He stood, awkwardly considering how to get past them unnoticed, when Mia said, "Your brother stopped in to see you. I told him he could wait."
"This is a bad time," Rico began in a rush as Colin's head lifted, attention turning back to him.
"Naw, it's okay, Red. Just as soon have something to keep me busy. Let me grab a coffee first." When he stepped away from Mia, their grip gradually loosened, palms sliding until just fingertips held, evidencing their reluctance to let contact end. The kind of devotion Rico longed for.
As his brother sat opposite at the breakfast bar while Mia went to unpack the few things Colin had carried to Tahoe, Rico echoed her concern.
"No trouble from your mom?
"
A wan smile. "She was surprisingly gracious, which worries me a bit. I got her promise that they could come back in the spring. That gives us something to hold on to." Colin took a shaky breath then said simply, "Thanks for making me see how important they are to me."
"You'd have figured it out with Mia. She's a lot smarter than I am. Maybe not as pretty."
That earned a weak laugh, encouragement enough for Rico to get to the purpose of his visit. Business first, he laid out the doings in the Ninth Ward, earning a surprising amount of concern from the usually taciturn Terriot. Colin backed his suspicion of Amber's brother, though he didn't disclose that familial link. But when it got to the personal, Rico started having second thoughts and hesitated. Colin was too shrewd not to notice.
"What else?"
"Nothing political. Just a private thing."
"Spill."
He spoke rather gruffly about the call, too emotionally vested to trust his own instincts until Colin confirmed he had reason to worry.
"I thought maybe Kip would have some idea about tracing the call," Rico concluded.
"Probably, but he's keeping a low family profile, and I'd rather not bring him into it unless it happens again. Up for another suggestion?"
"Sure. Why not?"
A call set up the meet at a low-key Quarter restaurant. Daisy Dukes was busy transitioning from big country breakfasts to regional lunch favorites when the brothers stepped inside and were quickly waved over to a booth where Colin announced, "I think you'll find there's a clever brain behind those baby blues."
NOPD Detective Babineau laughed, muttering, "I'd like to think so," as he rose to shake Rico's hand, making eye contact.
Baby blues . . .
The truth rocked through him like a bolt from above.
Alain Babineau was Evangeline James' father.