Dancing in the Dark

by Dee Davis

  “The idiot told me everything.” His eyes were shrewd suddenly, lucidity mixing with madness. “I took it as a gift and it worked like a charm. The poor bastard never saw it coming.”

  “And Molly?” Her friend's name came out of its own volition, Sara's mind blanching at the thought of the horror Molly had endured. “How did she fit into your plan?”

  “The bitch mocked me. She convinced you to throw my flowers away. I needed for her to understand the degree of her transgression.”

  “So you took her eyes?” Sara fought not to show her revulsion, the image of the mannequin filling her mind.

  “An eye for an eye.” He paused for a moment, tilting his head to one side, smiling as if the idea had only just occurred to him. “It was fair, don't you think?”

  He was watching her now, waiting for her agreement. He sounded so certain Sara was suddenly unsure of her own convictions, right and wrong converging, nothing really clear.

  “You're insane,” she whispered, wishing she could just disappear, knowing with certainty that any semblance of the man she had known was gone forever.

  “On the contrary,” he laughed, the sound frightening in its simplicity, “I've never been more clearheaded. Everything I've done has been for you, Sara. For you and me.”

  “There is no you and me.” She spit the words out, enunciating each one as if he were deaf.

  “Of course there is.” He backhanded her, the impact sending shards of pain shrieking through her head. “You just refuse to accept the fact. Instead, you cling to thoughts of men like D'Angelo.”

  He'd meant the name as a curse, but to Sara it was salvation. Something wonderful to cling to in the midst of this nightmare. Ryan turned the knife so that the point dug into her belly, the resulting pain almost welcome, a focal point to keep her mind from giving in to the horror.

  “You tried to kill him, didn't you, like Tom and Charlie?” She forced herself to concentrate on the fact that Ryan had failed, that no matter what happened to her, Eric was safe.

  “I needed him gone.” He tightened his hand on the knife, hatred shining in his eyes. “He was distracting you.” The knife dug deeper as he stroked her face, his eyes raking over her, glazed with passion. “Surely you realize I couldn't let you leave me. Not again.”

  “But I was never yours.” She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, ignoring the pain, determined to defy him to the last.

  “You have always been mine.” He bent to kiss her, moving the knife back to her throat. “And I've been waiting a very long time.”

  She wasn't sure suddenly who he was talking to, who it was he wanted so desperately. Her or his mother. Some twisted amalgamation of them both, she imagined. In his mind, they were the same. And in taking her, he was trying to reinvent his past, trying to make the unthinkable acceptable.

  But it wasn't possible. No matter how hard he tried.

  She twisted her head, trying to avoid Ryan's touch, turning her mind instead to thoughts of Eric and her love for him. Facing death, the only real regret she had was that they hadn't had more time.

  She closed her eyes, some part of her giving up, letting go. But even as she did so, another part of her, the part that had only just begun to live again, rebelled, muscles tensing with the anger ripping through her.

  She was not going to give up. Not now. Not ever.

  Opening her eyes, her gaze locked with Ryan's. “I love Eric, Ryan. And no matter what you do to me, nothing will ever change that fact. I will never be yours.”

  “Then you'll belong to no one.” Ryan raised the knife, his voice flat and emotionless, at odds with the tears in his eyes.

  And Sara knew with certainty that this time he wouldn't miss.

  Eric's heart leapt into his throat, his finger tightening on the trigger of his gun. Ryan held the knife with the precision of a surgeon, his anger apparent even with the distance between them. Sara's face was battered and blue, her left eye swollen almost shut, clotted blood distorting her eyebrow and cheek.

  Eric wanted to shoot the bastard, to end this thing once and for all, but there was no way to get a clean shot. Not with Sara in the way. Tony, flattened against the wall directly behind him, shook his head, concurring with Eric's thoughts.

  He'd never felt so helpless in all his life. If they rushed Ryan, he would surely kill her. Even if Eric could get off a shot, it would most likely be too late. Sara would be dead.

  Which meant he had to think of another option.

  Emotions held at bay, he focused on the scene, assessing the possibilities. What he needed was a way to get Ryan away from Sara. A distraction.

  As if his thoughts were reaching out to her, she twisted away from Ryan, her face turning toward the door. With an intake of breath, he shifted so that he was visible, withdrawing as soon as he saw recognition in her eyes.

  “The music's stopped, Ryan.” Sara's voice came out a harsh whisper, as though talking were painful, but even so she managed to make the words provocative. “We can't do this without Sinatra.”

  Ryan eyed her doubtfully, his forehead creased with a frown.

  “He's part of it all, isn't he? A final touch to the perfect ending?”

  Ryan ran his hand across Sara's breasts, and Eric's entire body tensed, Tony's hand on his arm the only thing stopping him from rushing the bastard.

  “You know how good the music makes us feel,” Sara crooned. “Please, Ryan.”

  Eric's rage crested, the white-hot pain leaving him feeling impotent. She was dancing with the devil, and it was up to him to see that she didn't have to pay the price.

  As if hearing his thoughts, she turned to him, her expression determined, full of trust, and he knew that everything he'd ever needed, ever wanted, was right there in her eyes. He loved her more than life, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let Ryan Greene take her away from him. He tightened his hand on his gun as Ryan straightened, his expression still skeptical.

  “Come on, you bastard,” Eric whispered. “Just a few feet more.”

  “Please, Ryan?” Sara cajoled, arching her back provocatively. “If this is all we have, I want it to be perfect.”

  Doubt faded, and Ryan's smile was slow and lascivious, his hungry gaze devouring Sara's flesh. With a last lustful look at Sara, Ryan moved around the end of the bed, reaching out to turn on the music. Eric waited one beat, and then another, and then with a nod at Tony, burst into the room, taking aim. “Drop the knife, Ryan. It's over.”

  Ryan spun around, his face contorting with rage. “D'Angelo,” he hissed, then pivoted, throwing the knife, the blade glistening as it arced through the air toward Sara.

  Eric screamed a warning, and dove for her, his only thought to reach her before the knife did.

  A gunshot rang out as he made contact with the bed, Sara's body beneath his, the knife bouncing against his vest, clattering harmlessly to the floor. Rolling once more, he was upright again, his gun trained in Ryan's direction, but Tony was already there, bending over the body, Ryan's blood spattered across the record albums.

  Eric holstered his gun and ran back to Sara, jerking free the knots that bound her hands and feet, pulling her into his arms, the knowledge that her heart was beating against his hand the sweetest sensation in the world.

  “I've got you,” he whispered, and he felt her burrowing tighter against him. He reached down to tip up her face, his eyes searching hers, needing to reassure himself that everything would indeed be all right.

  “Always,” she answered, her mouth curving upward with the hint of a smile.

  He pulled her close again, her head against his heart, as Sinatra's voice echoed through the room. There would still be barriers to overcome, wounds to heal. But they were alive, and they were together. And for the moment that was more than enough.

  “Looking for the light of a new love,

  To brighten up the night I have you, Love,

  And we can face the music together

  Dancing in the dark …”

  Ep
ilogue

  The air smelled of roses, sweet and fragrant, bursting with new life. New beginnings. Sara couldn't remember ever being this happy. She smiled up at Eric as they danced, the music matching her mood.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look, Mrs. D'Angelo?”

  Sara smiled up at her husband, lifting her hand to caress his face. “Have I told you how much I love you, Detective D'Angelo?”

  “Not for at least an hour.” He laughed, pushing her out into a spin, then pulling her close, her breath catching in her throat at the passion in his eyes.

  “We're not being fair to our guests, you know.”

  “I say let them fend for themselves.” He massaged the small of her back, sending shivers of desire racing through her. “Today is for us, after all.”

  “You'd never know it to look at them.” Sara tipped her head in the direction of the crowd of wedding guests. Their friends eating cake, drinking champagne, and generally having a marvelous time.

  Molly was holding court in her wheelchair, her sunglasses tinted the exact color of her bridesmaid's dress. Nate hovered nearby, her ever faithful attendant, their friendship forged in the fires of hell, his devotion, surprisingly, just what Molly seemed to need as she worked to reclaim her life.

  Jack was over by the bar, chatting up a pretty girl who worked in the APD forensic lab. He hadn't wanted to come, but Sara had insisted. He was part of her life. Part of her family. And nothing would change that. Whatever lay between them, they'd find a way to work it out.

  Tony and Bess danced by them, Bess's bridesmaid's dress tight across her rapidly expanding belly. Tony winked as he whirled by, his smile for both of them. Together. Mr. and Mrs. Eric D'Angelo. Sara smiled, her heart full.

  Ryan had tried to take everything. To destroy all that she loved. But in the end, despite the horror of what he'd done, she'd survived. And built a new family, a new life—with Eric. Her life bittersweet in so many ways, she still felt triumphant. Good had managed to conquer the day. And now it was time to move on—to walk into her future unfettered by the past.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Eric's breath was warm against her ear.

  “I was just thinking how lucky we are.”

  His arms tightened around her, his lips against her neck. “Funny, I was just thinking how lucky I was going to get.”

  “Eric.” She pushed back in his arms, pretending outrage.

  “What?” he grinned. “I'm not allowed to fantasize about my wife?”

  “Only if you share the fantasy with me.” She laughed, the tulle of her dress swirling around their legs, the fire in his eyes reflected in her own.

  Eric bent to kiss her, his mouth possessing hers, the heat between them nearing combustion. Their bodies melded together as they danced, two hearts beating as one, the music surrounding them both like an old friend.

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  Available wherever books are sold

  Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as “unsold or destroyed” and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

  Dancing in the Dark is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  An Ivy Book

  Published by The Random House Publishing Group

  Copyright © 2003 by Dee Davis Oberwetter

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to reprint song lyrics:

  Gimbel Music Group, Inc. and Universal: From “I Will Wait for You” words and music by Norman Gimbel, Michel Legrand, and Jacques Demy. Copyright © 1963 by Gimbel Music Group, Inc. Copyright © 1964 by Universal–Songs of Polygram International, Inc. (BMI). International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved.

  Music Sales Corporation: From “I Dream of You (More Than You Dream of Me)” by Edna Osser and Marjorie Goetschius. Copyright © 1944 (Renewed) by Embassy Music Corporation (BMI). International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted by permission.

  Warner Bros. Publications: From “Dancing in the Dark” by Howard Dietz and Arthur Schwartz, copyright © 1931 (Renewed) by Warner Bros. Inc. Rights for Extended Renewal Term in U.S. controlled by Warner Bros. Inc. and Arthur Schwartz Music. All rights outside U.S. controlled by Warner Bros. Inc. All Rights Reserved. From “I Could Make You Care” by Sammy Cahn and Saul Chaplin, copyright © 1940 (Renewed) by Warner Bros. Inc. All Rights Reserved. From “I've Got My Eyes on You” by Co
le Porter, copyright © 1939 by Chappell & Co., © Renewed, Assigned to John F. Wharton, Trustee of the Cole Porter Musical & Literary Property Trusts. Chappell & Co. owner of Publication and Allied Rights throughout the World. All Rights Reserved. Used by permission of Warner Bros. Publications U.S. Inc., Miami, FL 33014.

  Ivy Books and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

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  eISBN: 978-0-307-51920-7

  v3.0

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31