Dangerous Kiss

by Michelle Love

  She took the woman’s hand again. “Ethan’s been looking forward to seeing you, and explaining everything. Thank you so much for coming.”

  Zea smiled at her. “You’re sweet. I knew Lexi a little; she was lovely. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” Damn it, why did the tears always come when Lexi’s name was mentioned? Suddenly, Zea was hugging her.

  “I should have come before. I ran away. I’m so sorry,” she murmured into Kizzie’s ear. Kizzie hugged her.

  “It’s okay … it’s okay … you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

  Luca, Bree, and Tatiana were shown into the large drawing room of the Harper Mansion. In a moment, a tall, handsome man walked into the room, his face drawn and tense. He shook Bree and Tat’s hands before turning to Luca.

  The two men seemed to size each other up, Tat noticed, not in a Neanderthal way but as equals.

  “Mr. Saffran, I have always been an admirer,” Dante Harper said, and shook Luca’s hand. “May I offer you all a drink?”

  After they had drinks and Dante sat opposite, seemingly nervous. Luca shifted in his seat. Tatiana, seated next to him, could feel the tension rolling off him. She pressed her hand against the outside of his thigh, hoping it would comfort him. Luca glanced round at her and half smiled.

  “Mr. Harper, thank you for inviting us here. But you must know, I am at a loss to know what you can possibly tell me about Emory’s disappearance. Please, put me out of my misery.”

  Dante opened his mouth to speak. Then his attention was drawn behind them to the open doorway.

  “I thought you wanted me to ease them into this,” he said softly, tenderly. All three visitors turned, and Tatiana’s pulse began to race as a small, dark, achingly beautiful woman with terrified eyes stepped into the room. She needed no introduction. Bree gave a cry and Luca stood, his eyes riveted on the newcomer. She walked closer to him, her gaze wandering towards all of them before she turned scared eyes on Dante.

  “It’s okay, honey,” he said, his voice breaking and Tatiana saw it. The love in his eyes. Oh, dear God, what a mess. She glanced back at Luca, who was frozen.

  Emory Dutta drew in a deep breath and finally spoke. “Hello, Bree … hello, Luca…”

  Part #9: Emory

  Then …

  Nick Petersen, blond, tall and to hear him tell it, a good hometown boy, was bored. His parents had saved and scrimped for him to attend Auburn, but he knew he didn’t fit here. He would pull up to the college parking lot in his remodeled Toyota, to be surrounded by Bentleys, Porsches, and Jaguars. Rich kids made him sick.

  There were only a few he liked. Julieta was hot and always ready to put out, for a chance to hang with him. Greg, Justin … rich and dumb and easily led. He even liked Ethan Fonseca, but then, Ethan was impossible to dislike. Easygoing and funny, Ethan would spend time with anybody that wanted to spend time with him. If he were being honest, Nick would admit that he secretly wanted to impress Ethan and surprise him.

  Which is why he trusted him with his plan. Ethan listened, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, dude, whatever.” Nick was frustrated.

  “You don’t think I’d do it?”

  Ethan sighed. “What would be the point? Surely the point would be to get attention for yourself—look at Klebold and Harris, man. Anyway, don’t even joke about that stuff, man, it’s sick.”

  Nick felt slighted but let it go. It was okay if Ethan didn’t believe him now … it would only make things more exciting when he pulled it off.

  Because he had planned it all … he just had to, and he laughed at the pun, pull the trigger. Julieta, his confident, had talked it through with him and was as excited as him. Sitting in the coffeehouse that time, they’d talked all afternoon, planning everything. They had even cared that the guy sitting behind them had heard everything and when Nick had left the coffeehouse late that night, the man had followed him and made him an offer he had even dreamed of.

  His eyes slid across the school cafeteria to where Mr. Azano was talking to Mrs. Grace. Nick’s eyes lingered on the pretty young teacher. She wasn’t much older than them. Nick had whacked off at night thinking about the lovely Emory Grace for the last year and a half, but when he’d made his feelings clear, she had become formal with him, reporting his crush to the dean. Bitch. He had already decided she would have to die. He looked at Mr. Azano and smiled. The teacher was handsome, but soft-looking and malleable. He loved his kids and Nick had always liked the man. But Azano would be perfect. So suggestible, so naïve. He was sitting with Emory now but soon, thanks to Nick, he would be killing her.

  Not long now, Nick Petersen thought to himself as he cleared the tray. Not long now, before I bring this all down on top of you rich fucks.

  I can’t wait …

  Now …

  Luca felt his heart beating out of his chest. “Emory?” He could barely believe she was standing in front of him. Her dark hair hung even lower than he remembered her eyes were wide and nervous; but she looked even more ethereally beautiful than ever. “Emory, my God…” He jerked into action then and darted to her, wrapping his arms around her. God, she felt so good in his arms, his emotions swirling. It was only after a second that he realized that her arms were not around him, that she had frozen in his embrace. He let her go and stared down at her. “Em?”

  Emory looked at him, then at Dante Harper, and opened her mouth to speak. She shook her head and stepped away from Luca.

  “Emory has amnesia, Luca. Please, let’s all sit, and we’ll tell you everything that’s happened.”

  His chest tight, Luca sat with a silent Bree and a curious Tatiana. Luca introduced her to Dante and Emory.

  “You’re a journalist?” Finally, Emory spoke, her voice soft, and without recriminations.

  Tatiana gave her a kind smile. “Off-duty today, Emory, I promise. I’m here as a friend.”

  Emory, sitting next to Dante—very close to Dante, Luca noticed now—gave her a nod and a half-smile. Her eyes shifted to Bree.

  “Hey, bubba.”

  Bree nodded, tears glistening in her eyes, but stayed silent. Dante looked at Emory, who gave him a nod. “The night Emory was attacked by Ray Grace, at the port, I was sailing my boat back from the San Juans. We were nearing our docking place when I saw her. Emory was floating in the water, and of course, I immediately pulled her from the water. The first thing that was obvious was that she had been shot once, in the abdomen, at pretty close range.”

  Bree gave a strangled cry, and Luca closed his eyes. God. Everything he had imagined was true.

  Dante drew in a breath. “Emory was freezing, but as we wrapped her and were about to call the police, she regained consciousness. These were your exact words, honey,” he turned to look at Emory, who gazed back at him. “I know I haven’t told you what you said, but here goes. You said, please don’t call the emergency services. He’ll find me. He’ll hurt them again if he knows I’m alive.” Dante looked away from their gazes, his voice choking. “I told you that you had been shot, that you were very sick, but you kept begging me not to tell anyone. Anyone.” He looked at Luca and Bree sympathetically. “Please know … I did only what Emory asked. I called in favors with a surgeon I knew. He operated here, removed the bullet, and saved her. But by that time, she had fallen into a coma from the blood loss and from an infection she must have picked up in the water. It was touch and go for a few weeks. When Emory finally awoke, it was a great day here, I can tell you.”

  Luca nodded and gazed at Emory. “And you don’t remember … anything?”

  Emory, her petite body tensed, cleared her throat. “I remember some. I remember being shot. I remember Ray. I know you, Bree.” And she smiled hesitantly at the younger woman, who got up and went to her. She wrapped her arms around her.

  “I missed you so much,” Bree whispered, “and I have so much to tell you.”

  Emory tightened her arms around her. “I know, honey, me, too.” She let her go and looked at Luca. �
��I do remember you some, Luca, I do. I just have a blank on our … um…”

  “Relationship.” Luca got it suddenly, and pain shot through him. She doesn’t remember … she doesn’t remember how much we loved each other, what we had, what we could have been. Oh, damn it, damn it.

  He looked back at Dante “Thank you for saving her, Dante. I cannot express how thankful I am.”

  Dante gave a quick nod. “Em … I feel you have a better chance of remembering everything if you spend some time with Luca and Bree.” His voice had a strange tone to it, and now Luca saw Emory look at Dante in shock.

  “What?”

  Dante held Emory’s gaze. “You should try,” he said softly, “So you know. For sure.”

  Emory looked bewildered and frightened, and Bree put her arms around her again. “It’s okay, Em, we…”

  “You’re sending me away?” Emory interrupted her, looking at Dante with panic and hurt in her eyes, and for the second time, Luca saw everything clearly. Emory was in love with Dante Harper, and he was in love with her. Jesus … of all the scenarios he’d pictured, this was not one of them. Luca felt detached suddenly, as if all his self-protection instincts had set in. Don’t break my heart. Don’t let her close again.

  Jesus. What a fucking mess ...

  Zea Azano Newlan was with Kizzie Kline when the call came. Her brother Jesse had been injured an explosion at a vehicle workshop on the island. Kizzie, barely keeping it together, was driving Zea to the scene now, her eyes fierce as she drove.

  “It’s Petersen, I know it,” she raged. “How many more people have to get hurt?”

  Zea was silent, letting her rant. Whoever this Nick Petersen was, he needed to be in jail, today. As they pulled up to the scene, Zea saw a building on fire and a fleet of first responders.

  “Oh, my God,” Kizzie gasped and stopped the car abruptly, getting out and running over to an ambulance. Following her, she saw Kizzie throw herself at a young man sitting on the back steps of the vehicle.

  “Jesse, oh God … are you okay?”

  Jesse grinned at her, wincing as Kizzie hugged him harder. “Just a bit beat up, and my hearing’s all hinky because of the blast, but I’m okay. Asshole pushed me over the balcony before the explosion hit. Sadly for him, I didn’t break anything.”

  “Was it Nick?”

  “Oh, yeah. They just shuttled him off to the hospital; he’s in a pretty bad way.”

  “Good.” Kizzie’s adrenaline was obviously seeping away, and she sat next to Jesse, out of breath. Jesse grinned at Zea.

  “Since my sister’s forgotten to introduce us … I’m Jesse Kline.”

  Zea smiled at him. “Hey there. Zea Azano Newlan.”

  Recognition dawned in his eyes. “Oh, God, yes, of course, Mrs. Azano.”

  They shook hands. “It’s Zea,” she said,” please. And I’m remarried now. But I have come back to find out what the hell went on at Auburn.”

  “We were just about to talk to Ethan when the call came through,” Kizzie explained, “but we have time. Thank God you’re okay, bro. Sick of people getting hurt.”

  Jesse nodded. “Hey, did you hear? One of the cops just told me. Emory Grace … I mean, Emory Dutta, has been found alive. Apparently, some billionaire was taking care of her, while she recovered from being shot.”

  “No, I hadn’t,” Zea felt profound relief. “That is good news.”

  Jesse nodded. “Maybe things are turning around at last.”

  Zea sighed, suddenly weary. “God, I hope so. Look, why don’t I drive you two back to the hospital? You can get checked out, Jesse. Then we can talk to Ethan. I need this to be over.”

  Kizzie nodded in sympathy. “You got it, sister.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Then …

  It was easy, really. A couple of hits of the drug in David Azano’s coffee—the first one to make him suggestible, the second to send him over the edge. Even Nick couldn’t have predicted the way Azano had reacted to the drugs. He snuck the weapons into school and put them, fingerprints scrubbed off, in Azano’s desk.

  He heard the first gunshot when he was in the bathroom and grinned. He was glad he was away from the action while David Azano was locked and loaded.

  Screams, pure terror, pure horror. Pop, pop, pop. Nick sidled to the door, listened, then opened it a crack. Emory Grace was holding Lee Shawn, sobbing quietly. Blood everywhere. Then they both heard a scream. Emory Grace darted off, and Nick slipped out of the bathroom and followed her at a distance. He heard her shouting something, “Bree, run!” and then, as Bree Saffran staggered out of the room and away, Nick crept to the doorway. He watched as David Azano stabbed Emory Grace repeatedly in the belly until the young teacher collapsed to the floor, her eyes closed. Then, as if in slow motion, David Azano looked up and around at Nick. He smiled and advanced, the knife still dripping with Emory’s blood.

  Fuck! Nick backed off in a hurry and started to run as SWAT team members burst into the corridors. All was confusion. Nick screamed. “He killed her, he killed her…” and a SWAT member tackled him to the ground. “Stay the fuck down!”

  He heard shouting, the rat-tat-tat of the guns, then an echoing, hollow silence. Cordite in the air. Walkie talkies on. Someone pulling him to his feet.

  “You hurt, kid?”

  Nick shook his head, looking around. “I tried to save her…” He staggered back to the room where Azano had been, before the policeman could stop him. David Azano, with half his head missing, lay slumped half in, half out of the door. Nick could see the policemen attending to Emory Grace, her gray T-shirt soaked in her blood. The paramedics crouched around her, checking her vitals. Then, as Nick was led away, he heard one of them speak.

  “She’s alive…”

  Nick was reunited with his parents outside the walls of the college, sobbing people all around him. The gurneys carrying the injured were starting to come now. Emory Grace was first; Bree Saffran almost hysterical, her father jumping in the ambulance to speak to the unconscious woman. Two others, a boy, and a girl … then Ethan Fonseca, his T-shirt blackened from blood and three bullet holes and barely conscious. But when he saw Nick, his eyes widened.

  It was at that moment that Nick Petersen realized the enormity of what he had achieved, what he had done. He saw the fear, the heartbreak and sheer misery that he had caused, but that he would pay no price for.

  Ethan Fonseca didn’t stop starring at Nick as he was loaded into the ambulance and Nick did the only thing he could.

  He smiled at him and winked.

  “Sweetheart?”

  Emory turned and saw Luca hovering in the doorway of her bedroom. They were in the apartment she had lived in before the shooting. Dante had meant it when he told her she needed to go with Luca, and although she’d argued the point, telling them she wasn’t ready, Dante was firm. “Sophia’s packed your things, dar—I mean, Emory. If in a few days you feel you can make an informed decision, then we can talk.”

  She’d agreed eventually, just seeing how much Bree and Luca needed it but said, “Tomorrow. Please, I need a night…” She trailed off, hoping they would think she just meant to think, but she saw Luca’s eyes flick to Dante and knew he could see what was really happening.

  She felt guilty, but she needed that night, just one more night with Dante. After Luca and Bree had left with the journalist, she took Dante’s hand and led him upstairs. Sitting on the bed with him, she took his face in her hands. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “Why are you sending me away?”

  “Because you need to know, Emory. You need to know what your life will be from now on. And I need to know that what we have is real and not just some fairy tale we dreamed up.”

  She kissed him fiercely. “Tell me you love me,” she pleaded. “Tell me, and I’ll know.”

  Dante’s lips were firm against hers. “I can’t … not yet. Please, Emory, you know I do. I just can’t say it. I need to know that we have a future. My heart won’t take it, otherwise.”


  She wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her down onto the bed with him, peeling off her clothes, and she, his, until they were naked.

  “Don’t wait,” she said, curving her legs around him, reaching for his already huge cock. “Please, I need you now.”

  They made love all afternoon and fell into a deep, uneasy sleep. Emory didn’t want to do anything but hold him.

  Now, as she stood in another man’s apartment, she felt a shiver go through her. What the hell was her life now? Being shuttled between these two men … had she lost all control?

  Yes.

  The thought hit her and tears began to drip down her face. Luca, who had been watching her, came to her.

  “Hey, hey … it’s not really that bad being back here, is it?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak. Luca had been nothing but kind in the day she had been with him, but she felt the weight of expectation on her shoulders. Luca put his arm around her, and she couldn’t help lean into his warmth.

  “Tell me what we were like,” she said. “I really need to know more, Luca.”

  He smiled down at her. He is a gorgeous man, she thought, with that raven-dark hair and jet-black eyes. Suddenly tugged at her memory. “You’re part Asian,” she said, blinking. “I remembered that.”

  Luca’s smile was bright. “I am. Remember? You said it was something we had in common. Your father was from the Punjab.”

  A jolt to her memory. “Yes.” She closed her eyes. “We were talking…”

  “Come into the living room. Come sit and we’ll try to get some of the memories back.” He held out his hand, and she took it hesitantly.

  They sat on opposite sides of the couch. Luca had poured them both scotch. “We used to sit here and talk,” he said gently, “and laugh. God, we laughed so much. You tried to tell me your maiden name was Emory Flannery, and you nearly convinced me, too. You’re good at keeping a straight face.”