Two Lives in Waltz Time

by Vivien Dean

  She had to force her feet to move, one in front of the other, in order to approach the bed. “You’re hurt. Do you think I’m the kind of person who wouldn’t care about something like that?”

  “Once upon a time, that would have been a simple question.” His eyes drank her in, lashes sweeping briefly down as he followed the soft lines of her blouse, and then quickly returning to her face. “You look pale. Cash hasn’t been—”

  She didn’t let him finish the statement. “It was a rough night. That’s all.” She dared another step, grasping the edge of the bed as a bout of vertigo threatened to overwhelm her. “But you don’t want to talk about Cash.”

  Mack’s uninjured hand reached forward and encircled her wrist, tugging enough to have her sit on the mattress. “Does he know you’re here?”

  When he didn’t let her go, Maddy fought the urge to pull free, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She had to do this. It was the best way to get what they needed. Mack couldn’t hurt her, and creepy as he might be, she was the one with all the power right now.

  “No, but I don’t have to tell Cash everything. That’s the benefit of having an adult relationship.”

  The flicker of anger behind his eyes made her see too late the unintended spite in her choice of words. “If you’re here to tell me how wonderful your new fiancé is,” Mack managed, “I’d really rather you didn’t. The morphine isn’t quite that strong.”

  Crap. This wasn’t going at all as she had imagined. Now, she had somehow managed to get Mack’s defenses up. His grip around her wrist tightened, throwing her off-balance when he pulled her against his chest, heedless of his injuries.

  “Why him?” Though he didn’t raise his voice, the icy command in it was undeniable. He had not risen to power without cause, it would seem. “What can Vinci give you that I can’t?”

  There was no way to answer that other than… “He loves me.”

  Something fierce returned to those gray eyes. “I love you.”

  Maddy shook her head. “You want to own me, Mack. There’s a big difference.”

  With their bodies in such close proximity, she steeled against the way the slightly charred scent of his skin combined with the antiseptic of the sterile room to turn her stomach. No flinching. Nothing to reveal her repulsion as she waited for him to do anything except lie there and watch her with those piercing eyes.

  “So why did you come?” he asked. “If you hate me so much, why go to the bother?”

  His body relaxed enough for her to ease away and sit up to gain some more calming distance. “I don’t hate you. I don’t like you very much when I think about how you tried to buy me from Cash, but I don’t hate you.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Her eyes fell. This was a lot harder than she had imagined it would be. Why couldn’t he have been asleep?

  Swallowing, Maddy reached out and rested her hand on the upper edge of the blanket. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.” Her fingers curled around the hem, pulling it back an inch to expose more of his slim body. “Can I…look?”

  The question startled him, his defensive wall slipping long enough for him to stare at her in disbelief. His tongue darted out to lick his lower lip, and his nostrils flared as his breathing quickened. The hope in his eyes almost made her change her mind. She didn’t want to lead him on. She didn’t want to be the kind of woman who would do that. But this was their only hope.

  Wordlessly, Mack nodded, letting his hand drop away so she had room to look beneath his dressings. His gaze never left her face as she turned her attention to his hospital gown and bandages, slowly peeling both away until his arm and chest were revealed.

  Seeing the burn up close and personal made the colors bleed into something almost living. Half of the skin had been scorched away, leaving his flesh raw and exposed now that she had pulled back the gauze covering it. What wasn’t burned was bruised, further evidence of the fight the two men had had. The charred smell even overwhelmed the hospital’s antiseptic.

  She covered him back up as gently as she could. She didn’t have the fortitude to continue her search, it would likely be inconclusive anyway. If a visual search didn’t find the mark elsewhere on his body, it still wouldn’t prove anything. Mack could have it on the portion that had been burned and nobody would be able to tell. The damage hid it all too well.

  “Stop feeling sorry for me.” The sharpness of Mack’s tone cut through her thoughts, jerking her attention back to his face. It was hard again, all remnants of the vulnerability she had momentarily spotted vanished. “I don’t want your pity, Maddy. I would rather you hated me than that.”

  Rising from the bed, Maddy backed toward the door. She had to get out of here. Lingering would only make things worse. For both of them.

  “I’m sorry it had to be this way,” she whispered, her fingers on the doorknob. When she saw his eyes flicker closed, shutting her out without a word, she turned and fled the room.

  He imagined he could still smell her shampoo long after Maddy left his room. With his eyes closed, Mack used the scent to block out the pain, to block out the memories, to focus on only that which gave him pleasure. The sight of her standing in his doorway. The thought she would come to see him, that she cared enough to ensure his well-being. The soft press of her breasts against his chest when she leaned over to look at his injuries. His hard-on was almost painful.

  When the door whispered open again, it disrupted the fantasy he’d concocted, Maddy’s imagined pleas for him to take her back dispelling as so much ephemera. He opened his eyes to see Keating standing at the foot of his bed, Lombardi a silent barrel behind him.

  A scowl darkened Mack’s features. “Bringing me my things doesn’t mean I’m in the mood to do business.”

  “That’s not why we’re here.” Keating’s all-American face was solemn. “There’s been some…news. Bad news. I didn’t want to bother you with it before, but I thought—”

  “So tell me then.” He really wasn’t in the mood for this. He wanted both of them gone so he could return to his daydreams.

  Keating took a deep breath and glanced at Lombardi before speaking. “Cash showed up at the Rising Sun last night to see Maddy. Marty didn’t take it so well.”

  The fire in his body turned to ice at mention of Marty. Keating was his favored trigger boy for a reason. He was calm, collected, didn’t lose his head in a fight. Marty had a temper that could be enflamed with only a single look.

  “What did he do?” Mack said.

  Lombardi and Keating exchanged another look. “He started a fight with Cash,” Keating said. “He took a shot at him.”

  It was starting to make sense. Cash wouldn’t have been armed. He was too proud to think he had to resort to a gun to defend himself. Very likely, Maddy had been at the hospital checking up on him, which would also explain why she wasn’t worried about Cash finding out about her presence.

  Mack relaxed back into his pillow. “Tell me Marty hit where it’s going to leave a noticeable scar. You’ll make my year.”

  “He didn’t hit Cash.” Keating swallowed, his eyes suddenly dropping to the railing at the foot of the bed, and his fingers gripped the stainless steel bar with a white-knuckled grip. “He got Maddy. She didn’t make it.”

  The simple words didn’t register for several seconds. He knew he was staring at them blankly, but what they were saying was impossible. He even said so out loud.

  “You don’t think Maddy’s the kind of dame who’d take a bullet for someone she cares about?” Speaking up for the first time since entering the room, Lombardi gazed at Mack with what looked like incredulity. “She stepped right in front of Cash, took it straight in the chest.” He jabbed a thick finger at the door. “Don’t believe us, get Marty in here and ask him. I’m sure he’s still got the black eye from where I decked him.”

  Lombardi’s assertions sped up Mack’s thought processes only slightly. “That can’t be right,” he argued. “She was just
in here. She was fine.”

  Keating went pale, his head snapping toward Lombardi, but it was the other man who Mack was fixed on. “It’s gotta be the drugs they’ve got you on,” Lombardi said. “You’re dreaming, or you’re seeing things, or something, because I’m telling you, Maddy’s dead.” He paused, his mouth turning down in sorrow. “I’m sorry, Mack, but that’s the way it is.”

  Dead. Until they said the word, Mack had had little visual of the import of their words. Even after they said it, all he could remember was how she’d felt pressed to him, how solid she had felt, how warm. Without thinking, his good hand fluttered to the edge of his bandages, his gaze shifting to see where they were wrapped around his injuries. She had been there. He was sure of it.

  “Are you telling me I saw a ghost?” His voice was low and even, his attention fixed on his injuries. He almost imagined he saw the impressions of her fingers she’d left on the gauze.

  “I don’t know what you saw,” Keating replied, just as calm. Good old Keating. “I only know it couldn’t have been her. I swear, Mack.”

  If it had just been Lombardi, Mack would have continued arguing. He saw what he saw, and Lombardi was too shifty for him to trust implicitly. But then there was Keating, who had stood by him since his youth, who had been the first one Mack had considered putting into such a position of power. Keating didn’t lie, not to him, and his obvious sincerity in assuring Mack it couldn’t have been Maddy cut deep.

  “I want to talk to Marty,” Mack ordered, swiveling his eyes back to Keating’s. He ignored Lombardi, even when Keating glanced over at him. The club manager was useless for what Mack wanted done. “I want him brought here, and I want his side of the story before supper today.”

  Slowly, Keating nodded. “All right.”

  “And then I want you to bring in Cash. I don’t want him here at the same time as Marty,” he continued, barreling over the look of shock in Keating’s face. “If he gives you grief, shoot him in the kneecap and drag him in. I don’t care. I just want to hear what he has to say outside of getting in Marty’s face.”

  “I don’t think he’s—”

  “Do it.” Suddenly weary of the whole argument, he sighed and closed his eyes. Maddy’s face immediately came before him, soft and smiling. “Now get out of here. I want to be alone.”

  There was a moment of hesitation before the men’s footsteps shuffled across the floor and then out, the door whispering shut behind them. The temptation to leave with them was great, to track down Cash on his own and demand the truth. If Maddy was dead, and her visit was merely a figment of his imagination, retribution would need to be made. Marty was a given.

  Mack smiled, his eyes still closed. He would have great pleasure killing Cash. For the love of Maddy, it was the very least he could do.

  Chapter Thirty

  Pacing the length of the living room, Cash concentrated on counting off his steps rather than letting his mind wander to thoughts too dangerous to consider. He had already nearly set the couch on fire when he’d walked through the door and found Kate and Ava in a dither. They had instantly scattered, going off to scour the neighborhood in case Maddy had merely stepped out for a little fresh air. That left Cash to fume and wait for her to come home.

  He rubbed furiously at his eyes. Damn it. He should have known better. Though she had put up a few protests at the thought of killing Mack, he should have realized Maddy’s easy acquiescence on the subject was a bad omen. Combine that with her excuses to get Kate and Ava out of the apartment, and Cash had little doubt she had come up with some scheme of her own, something she knew the girls would argue with if they’d stuck around. What that plan could be, however, he had no idea.

  A knock at the door stopped him in mid-pace, and he bolted to answer it, long legs crossing the room in a flash. When he opened it, his heart sank at the sight of an unconscious Maddy cradled in Gino’s arms. Cash immediately stepped forward to take her away from him.

  “What happened?” he demanded as he carried her over to the couch. “Is she hurt?”

  Gino hung back, stuffing his hands into his pockets now that they were empty. “I think she’s just tired. She wouldn’t let me help her out of the car, and then she started weaving when we got to the elevator. I got to her just as she was about to topple over.”

  A faint sheen of perspiration covered Maddy’s forehead, making her hair stick in thin tendrils to her face. Carefully, Cash pushed it back, noting the stain of pink in her cheeks, the too-fast rise and fall of her chest. “She shouldn’t have gone out.” Then Gino’s words sank in, and Cash looked up at him with a frown. “Where did you take her?”

  Gino began to fidget, edging farther away from the couch as he spoke. “She rang and said she needed a ride to the hospital. I didn’t know everything wasn’t jake until after she came out, looking like she’d been spooked. Honest, Cash. If I had known you weren’t keen on her seeing Mack, I wouldn’t have agreed to take her.”

  He knew it wasn’t Gino’s fault, but hearing confirmation of what she had done only served to restore Cash’s anger. “Bloody stubborn woman,” he muttered, turning back to Maddy. Her lashes fluttered, evidence of waking from whatever had overwhelmed her downstairs. At least she was all right. Just in time for him to throttle her for worrying him to death.

  “If you don’t need anything…”

  Gino inched toward the door, obviously eager to go, though his sense of responsibility was making him drag his feet. With a wave of his hand, Cash let him off the hook.

  “Thanks for bringing her back,” he said, meeting the other man’s dark eyes. “You’re a good friend.”

  That seemed to appease Gino’s worry, though he still slipped through the apartment door with lightning speed. By the time Cash looked back at Maddy, her eyes were open, and she was gazing up at him warily.

  “You’re mad,” she said without preamble.

  Such an obvious statement drove him to his feet, his long hands running through his hair as he resumed his rapid pacing. This time, though, he stayed within the length of the couch, unwilling to get any farther away from her, lest she try to escape again.

  “Did you get a dose of state the obvious while you were at the hospital? Or didn’t you have time for that after your little chitchat with Mack?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I can’t believe you’d do something so daft. Aaron’s got this more than under control. There was absolutely no reason for you to go over there.”

  Her brows drew together. He knew if she’d had the strength, she would’ve sat up. “Aaron isn’t going to get anywhere with Mack,” she shot back. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. There’s no way we can be sure that it’s him. Not yet.”

  Abruptly, Cash stopped and stared at her. “Why do you say that?”

  The rising color in her face wasn’t the only indication of her reluctance to answer. There was also the sideways shift of her eyes, the tight pursing of her mouth. It drew Cash closer, bringing him back to crouch at her side.

  “Why do you say that?” he repeated, his voice low.

  The muscles in her throat worked as she swallowed. “Because I looked, okay? But the burns he’s got make it impossible to see what’s underneath them. We can’t be sure he’s the safety until he’s healed.”

  All he could think was…she looked. She’d gone to the man who had offered to bribe Cash away, and she had stripped him down to look for what they knew they were going to find anyway. It stung of betrayal, though reason told Cash that that was an exaggerated response.

  “Did you give him a sponge bath as long as you were there too?” he asked coldly. The snap of surprise in her eyes was both satisfying and disconcerting, shame surging behind his anger at the meanness of his retort. It wasn’t enough to make him apologize, though.

  “I’m not going to be responsible for killing an innocent man—”

  Cash snorted. “There hasn’t been anything innocent about Mack since he was in nappies.”

  “But what if we’re wro
ng?” she pressed. “Can you tell me you could live with yourself if you were responsible for killing someone unnecessarily?”

  The truth of why she had left then hit him. Hard. Like a punch from a linebacker straight in the gut. He felt ridiculous for not having seen it sooner.

  “Is that what you think of me?” It scratched coming out, but would have hurt more staying in. Sitting back on his heels, he searched her face, looking for any sign of an answer, anything that would give him a clue. But she remained closed to him, impelling him to repeat his question, this time a bit more forcefully.

  “I don’t know,” Maddy admitted. Guilt that looked as strong as what he felt darkened her eyes. “Before you told me about…what your life was like when you were still in England, I would have said no. I thought you were a jerk, but I never thought of you as a killer. But all the stuff about Dubai…” Her gaze shifted, the wheels turning visibly in her head as she sought the right words to say. By the time she looked at him again, she seemed more confident.

  “Every day we’re here, I get to know you better. Every minute we spend together helps me realize that falling in love with you wasn’t necessarily the worst mistake I’ve ever made. But it’s all about time, Cash. I’m still learning about who and what you are. So, if I’m not one hundred percent sure that your definition of necessary killing doesn’t include a guy you think is the way home and you hate enough to risk, then I think you need to cut me a little slack until I am sure.”

  Most of what she said didn’t even sink in. He was too caught on the first words she’d uttered.

  “You’re in love with me?” he asked, almost incredulous.

  Her eyes shot wide and her face grew even pinker as she realized what she’d admitted. Almost as immediately, a stubborn lip jutted out and he saw her jaw tighten. “Don’t you dare make this about that. You knew I was going to fall in love with you the second you saw me notice you in that damn tux. I’d almost bet you planned this whole thing just to—”