Dangerous Kiss

by Michelle Love

  “A psychopath, Beebs. That’s the only thing I got.” He nodded at her body. “Does it hurt?”

  “It’s sore, but bearable.” Biba looked out of the window. “Gunter is absolutely destroyed, Reg. He came to see me yesterday…he’s broken.” Her voice shook.

  Reggie shook his head, his eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry…Rich was one of the good ones.”

  “He was.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a while. “How’s your mom doing?”

  “Docs think it might be pneumonia now. She’s pretty sick.”

  Biba groaned. “God. Reg, you need to go back to her. I’m okay here, seriously. If all goes well, I’ll be out of here in a couple of days, and I have Cosimo to take care of me. Mary needs you.”

  He looked at her unhappily. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Get back to her, Reggie. You can call me whenever you like.”

  He got up and hugged her again. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she told him, smiling. “Hey, and listen. Tell your Mom Red Vines are great for pneumonia.”

  Reggie rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I will…she won’t need much persuasion. Later, Beebs. Glad you’re feeling okay.”

  “Later, Reggie."

  Downstairs, Cosimo was talking to some of the nurses at the station. “It is customary that we ask the relative to donate blood,” one of them was telling him.

  “Of course. I have some right now if you could point me in the right direction.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Cosimo turned around to see his mother, Olivia, and Nicco walking toward him. “Hey… Hey, you guys…why are you here?”

  “You really think we’re not going to come support you and Biba? I don’t know my blood type though.”

  Cosimo hugged his son and mother. “Both your mom and I were O negative, so you’ll be, too.”

  “Ah, good,” the nurse said, “the universal blood donor. We will check it though. We always do before a first-time donation. Come with me.”

  As they walked, Nicco bombarded Cosimo with questions. “Is Biba okay? Have they found Stella?”

  “Yes and no,” Cosimo said as they made their way to the blood donation room. “The FBI are out hunting, but there’s no news. Biba is doing well—actually, better than hoped. She’ll be delighted to see you both.”

  They filled out the preliminary paperwork, and all three of them had their blood types taken. As they waited to give blood, Cosimo tried to relax. It had been such a fraught day and a half that he felt as if he hardly drawn breath.

  The nurse came in, looking perplexed. “We’re going to have to do your blood type again, young man,” she said, “we think we’ve got a bad reading.”

  Nicco shrugged. “Sure, no problem.”

  Twenty minutes later, the doctor came to see them. His face serious. “Can I just double check some details?”

  “Sure.”

  He asked Cosimo about Nicco’s birth and the circumstances surrounding it. Both Cosimo and Nicco exchanged confused looks. Olivia took charge.

  “Doctor, give it to us straight. What are you saying?”

  The doctor looked uncomfortable. “Mr. DeLuca, your son’s blood type was tested five times by our nurses, and each time returned the same result. Blood type AB positive. There’s no doubt.”

  Cosimo felt the blood drain from his face. “What?”

  Nicco got it before his father and turned to them with a grim face. “They’re saying I’m not your son, Dad. They’re saying Mom cheated on you…”

  Chapter Twenty

  A week. That was all it was, but their lives had all changed immeasurably. Biba was discharged from the hospital after five days, and she and Cosimo went to his hotel in the city. The set at Lakewood had been deemed a crime scene, and the movie abandoned for now, so the cast and crew had decamped to the hotels. Each of them had been questioned about the night of Rich’s murder and Stella’s abduction. The national news media hounded their every step.

  Cosimo managed to sneak Biba into the hotel through the service elevator. The news had learned that Cosimo and Biba were in a relationship and were fascinated by the story of dashingly handsome cinematic wunderkind and the all-American beauty he’d fallen in love with.

  Cosimo was still reeling from the revelation of Nicco’s parentage. Everything he had believed about his marriage crumbled around him. Worse, he was heartbroken, until Nicco, Olivia, and Biba had all told him the same thing. Nicco, in his teenage way, had put it best and bluntly. “I don’t give a fuck whose DNA I’ve got…you’re my father and fuck everyone else.”

  Biba had agreed with him. “Screw blood types. You raised him, Cos…Nicco is your son.”

  Now, alone with Biba in their hotel suite, Cosimo finally felt able to face what had happened. They lay together on the bed. Biba kissed him. “Seems weird to be in bed with you and not able to have sex. Are you sure the doctor said six weeks and not six hours?”

  Cosimo chuckled. “Unfortunately so. But you need to heal. God, we were lucky it wasn’t worse.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about Stella and Rich. Rich deserved better. What do you think happened?”

  “I think, like you, he arrived at the wrong time, just as the psycho was about to abduct Stella. Or maybe Rich got there just beforehand, and he was stabbed just to get him out of the way.”

  Biba looked sick. “I can’t stop seeing the blood.”

  Cosimo stroked her face. “Try not to think about it.” He pressed his lips to hers, feeling her respond. “Biba…when this is all over, I’d like to take you away to Italy—to just get some alone time. I feel in my bones that we’ll get Stella back alive.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  He gave a humorless laugh. “I don’t know.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Cosimo got up. It was their private security guard. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but there are two military personnel here to see you.”

  Cosimo was confused as Biba sat up. “I don’t know…”

  “Let them in,” Biba said in a strange voice, standing and coming to his side. “Please. Let them in.”

  Cosimo looked in confusion at her, but Biba’s expression was hard as stone.

  As the two visitors stepped into the suite—a man and a woman—Cosimo suddenly understood. Biba stiffened beside him. “Well,” she said with a voice like ice, “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  Cosimo walked into the bar, and Sifrido and Franco waved him over. “How’s Biba?”

  “At the moment, hard to say. Her parents showed up…at last.”

  Sifrido whistled, but Franco nodded. “Good. It’s about time.”

  Cosimo felt a hundred years old. “Tell me some good news.” Sifrido had taken the lead in keeping in touch with the police investigation, while Lars and Channing dealt with the studio and the FBI.

  “Well, if no news is good news…” Sifrido said, and Cosimo’s shoulders slumped.

  “Fuck. I just feel so useless. Can’t we make a public appeal—something?”

  “We could—but who knows if it would do any good?”

  Cosimo sighed. “It’s worth a shot. I’ll talk to Lars and Chan. Maybe we can persuade Agent Doofus to help us.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I have to do something…how’s Gunter doing?”

  Franco sighed. “He quit, that’s all we know for sure. He’s going back to Germany as soon as he’s allowed. Poor kid. Rich was his other half in so many ways. Sometimes we don’t recognize that a deep friendship is just as profound as a romantic or familial one.”

  Upstairs in their suite, Biba was wondering who these people were to her now—these people standing in front of her. Looks-wise, there was a smattering of grey hair, but otherwise they looked no different than the last time she had seen them.

  “So, you’ve come.” This was after all three of them had been silent for too long.

  Her fa
ther cleared his throat. “You were hurt.”

  “Stabbed. Yes. I was in the hospital for five days. It was on the news, which is how I assume you found out about it.” Biba wasn’t in the mood to play nice.

  “You could have called us.” Her mother spoke finally, and Biba detected a little quaver to her voice. Her mother, the Major, was nervous of her. Biba didn’t care.

  “I could have, but then again I was busy recovering from being stabbed. Stabbed. Did you not understand that part?” She gave a disgusted noise. “Why are you here?”

  Her father glanced at her mother, then cleared his throat. “We wanted to say…about Derek… We’re sorry. We’re sorry we didn’t listen to you.”

  Biba stared at her father. “Derek was sent to jail five years ago. You’ve had five years to apologize, and yet it’s been crickets. Why now?”

  “Because…”

  “Because I was stabbed? So now that I’ve almost been murdered, now I’m worthy of being apologized to? Shove your apology.”

  She turned away from them, not wanting them to see her tears, but her mother caught her arm.

  “Biba…please. Listen to us.”

  Biba sighed. “You know what? Fine. I accept your apology. You’re forgiven. But you’ll have to excuse me. My friend was just murdered, and my boss—and friend—is missing, abducted by a psychopath who stuck his knife in my belly. Twice. I don’t have time for reunions when my real family is suffering. Please, just go.”

  She turned away again and went back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her but staying close to it to hear what they had decided to do. She heard low voices and the suite door being opened and shut. She peeked out and saw with relief that they had gone. She went to find the security guard and asked him where Cosimo had gone.

  “I believe he is in the bar, Miss May. I’ll escort you down.”

  Stella tried to block the stench of death out of her nose with the blanket he had given her. At last he had allowed her to find something to wear. The woman who had lived here—the woman who stared back at Stella with sightless, dead eyes as she huddled in the tiny, locked bedroom—had been roughly Stella’s size.

  When he’d dragged Stella to the bedroom—her prison, it seemed—he’d pointed out the closet without saying anything. Stella was pathetically grateful for the clothes found—sweaters, jeans, fleeces, and socks. She’d pulled on everything she could find, layering clothes over clothes. The room itself was heated, the bed comfortable, and Stella had to admit, if she wasn’t terrified for her life, she could pretend she was on a break.

  But she was terrified, barely sleeping in case he forced himself on her. But he’d left her alone for long periods. Until now. This morning, he unlocked her door and made her come out into the living room. She tried not to look at the dead woman slumped in the easy chair, her blood-soaked shirt, the gaping slice in her neck, almost to the bone. The brutality of it made her shiver, reminded her—as if she needed reminding—of the way he had attacked Biba—the utter lack of mercy.

  “Who was she?” Stella asked without thinking, but he ignored her. Stella swallowed and stepped towards the woman. “Can I close her eyes at least? Cover her up?”

  “Leave her alone.” The scarf tied over his face muffled his voice, but he wasn’t using the voice manipulator. Stella decided to try to get him to talk. If he was someone she knew…

  Because she figured out—he had to be. To get through the security Cosimo had put in place at Lakewood, to be able to know exactly where her trailer was and to get in…

  “Can we talk?” Stella decided to turn on the Reckless charm—what harm could it do? She averted her eyes from the evidence of the harm it could do—the dead woman—and sat down in another chair. “What is it we are doing here? Your letters said…we would be together, and we are, so what now?”

  She deliberately didn’t acknowledge the threats in his last letter. Her abductor sat down opposite her, staring at her with those unnaturally blue eyes, but saying nothing. Stella tried again. “Look, I haven’t seen your face. You could stop all this now, and just let me go. Or tell me what you want from me, and we can try to make it work.” She hid her feeling of nausea at the thought of being intimate with this monster.

  He lifted the voice modifier to his mouth. “You’re lying. You don’t want me. Please don’t insult my intelligence.”

  Stella sighed. “Then…why am I here?”

  “To die.”

  Stella kept her composure. “But why? What have I ever done to you?” She silently cursed as her voice broke. “Why did you have to kill Biba?”

  “What do you care about her?”

  “She was my friend.”

  He gave a sarcastic laugh. “The way you treated her was not as a friend.”

  So, he was known to them. “Do you care about Biba? Do you care that you murdered a sweet girl?”

  “I enjoyed it.”

  Oh, dear God…he got up and switched on the television. “You need to see this.”

  Stella was startled to see Cosimo in front of a bank of journalists with the FBI agent alongside him and Lars. He looked exhausted and drawn. Stella saw the ‘Recorded Earlier’ logo in the corner of the screen. She tried to concentrate on what Cosimo was saying.

  “Please, whoever you are…you’ve already killed one person. This has to end now. Bring Stella back to us, unharmed, and we’ll do everything we can to get you the help you need.”

  “He’s lying,” her captor said.

  Stella ignored him. God. Cosimo looked heartbroken and Stella felt guilty—he had obviously loved Biba very much.

  She got angry. “Why are you showing me this? What did you hope to achieve?”

  He said nothing and, frustrated, Stella stood. “Let me go. Now. This is madness.”

  She only had time to blink once before he was on her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Biba watched as Cosimo spoke to the press. Since her parents had visited, she had been on edge, close to breaking. Her body ached, and she felt a million years old. Being around other people was irritating to her—except for Cosimo. She wanted all of this to be over so that Stella was safe, and Biba didn’t have to carry this guilt around with her. If only she and Stella hadn’t bickered…Stella might have been at the fireworks that night, and Rich might be alive.

  Cosimo was kept busy with the journalists and Biba slipped away into the lounge of the hotel. She called Reggie, wanting to hear her old friend’s voice.

  “Hey, Boo.”

  “Hey, Reggie…how are you? How’s Mary?”

  “I’m good… but Mom’s in a sugar coma.”

  Biba laughed, her body relaxing. “Seriously, how’s the pneumonia?”

  Reggie sighed. “It’s not good, but you know Mom; she’s a fighter. Any news on Stella?”

  “None.”

  “I saw the press conference…not sure it’ll do any good.”

  “No, neither are we, but we all feel so helpless, Reg. We just have no idea what the hell to do. If he asked for a ransom, that would be something, but it’s like they’ve disappeared into thin air. She could be dead already…” Her voice quivered, and she began to cry softly.

  “Oh, baby.” Reggie’s voice was soft. “Don’t cry.”

  “I never knew I loved her until now,” Biba sobbed. “She’s a pain in the ass, but I love her like she’s my sister. I can’t bear to think of her scared and alone. Who knows what the asshole is doing to her. Stella’s not as tough as she makes out.”

  There was a long silence on the end of the phone. “Darling…I know you. You’re blaming yourself, and that isn’t fair. How were you to know?”

  “I could have fought harder.”

  “He stabbed you, Biba…no one could have fought harder.”

  Biba couldn’t stop her tears. “Reg…”

  “Look…do you want to come here? For a few days? To get away from everything?”

  Suddenly, that’s all she wanted to do. “I’ll talk to Cos.”
/>
  “I can come get you whenever.”

  While Biba didn’t want to be away from Cosimo, she wanted to get away from Tacoma, and Cosimo agreed with her. “I want you out of danger, baby. I trust Reggie to keep you safe while we work all of this out.”

  They were alone in their hotel suite, late in the evening after a day of press and being around other people; they were both glad of the alone time. Cosimo stroked her face. “You look as if you’re in pain.”

  “A little. The doctor said it would be painful as I healed. I just wish…I want to be close to you, Cosimo, especially now, and I feel as if my body is stopping that.”

  Cosimo kissed her. “You know, there’s plenty of stuff we can do that won’t strain your wounds.”

  Biba smiled. “Show me.”

  He undressed her slowly, kissing every piece of exposed skin, his lips tender against her body. His strong fingers stroked the length of her body, brushing over her nipples, making them stiffen and become so sensitive that she could hardly bear it.

  Cosimo gently pressed her legs apart, moving down her body to take her clit into his mouth. Biba moaned softly as delicious sensations flooded her senses—this man was an expert, there was no doubt about it. He teased and lashed his tongue around the sensitive bud until she cried out, coming hard, her body shivering through it. A grinning Cosimo moved up to kiss her mouth. “See?”

  Biba, a fine sheen of dewy sweat on her face, nodded. “My turn to please you.”

  She reached down to take his huge, throbbing cock into her hands and stroked the hot length of it against her thighs. One hand massaged his balls as she moved her other hand up and down his shaft, increasing the pressure and the speed until Cosimo gave a groan, and his cock shuddered and pumped hot, sticky semen onto her skin. They kissed passionately, both wanting more but knowing they couldn’t risk it.