Handcuffs and Lies

by Bronwyn Green

  She nodded. “Job’s over. I’m great.”

  Oh fuck. He knew exactly what she was thinking. How many times had he said she was a job to him? Frustration and worry collided in his chest. “Tori, wait, that’s not—”

  “Where’s the doc?” someone hollered. “We’re losing this one.”

  A mask of professional distance slid over her face and he felt her slipping away. Ice smothered the heat between them.

  “Your job’s done,” she said. “Mine isn’t.”

  Tori did chest compressions, trying to restart Trevor’s heart while her own was breaking. She got a rhythm back as the paramedics arrived and turned over the patient to them so she could check the rest of the injured. There weren’t many. The man who’d driven her to the meet with Lucky was dead and Niko was the only cop wounded.

  “Look,” she said to him. “I left the hospital short staffed—”

  “You were kidnapped!”

  “Yeah, well…bad day all around,” she muttered, glancing at where Michael stood staring at her and barely paying attention to the uniformed cop talking to him. “Anyway, I’ll make you a deal. You ride with me to the hospital, and I’ll patch you up and give you my statement there.”

  Niko’s brow furrowed. “Wouldn’t you rather do that…downtown?”

  “Nope.”

  * * * *

  “Go. Home.”

  Tori looked at Lucy, who glared at her, hands on her hips.

  “I could say the same thing to you, who’s working a double.”

  “I wasn’t freaking kidnapped a few hours ago!”

  Tori sighed and rubbed her hand over her face. “I promise, I’ll fall apart later. But I’d rather do it when I’m calm enough to actually sleep after the sobbing.”

  Concern filled her friend’s eyes. “I can give you a sedative,” she offered.

  “No. That’s the last thing I need.”

  Lucy hugged her tightly. “A little while longer, then you let me, or someone…” she jerked her head toward the triage desk, “take you home. Okay?”

  Tori followed her gaze. Michael watched her intently. Her belly fluttered in nervous excitement, but she pushed away the cruel reminder of what they’d shared.

  She turned back to Lucy. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go.”

  He moved to stand behind her as Lucy walked away. “Tori, we need to talk.”

  “Can’t. Working.”

  He grabbed her arm, but she shook him off and headed into an occupied exam room. Every time she looked, he was in the waiting room…waiting.

  For hours, she ignored him until finally he gave up and left.

  Tears welled behind her eyelids, but she blinked them back. She’d finally gotten what she’d wanted, and now she was crying? She was an idiot. Maybe everything was finally hitting her. It was time to call Lucy and get out of here for a while. She tracked down the shift lead and got her attention.

  “I’m going to take off now.”

  The woman shook her head. “I’ve got a GSW coming in, and I need you to take the chest pains in exam four. You can take off after that.”

  “Okay, got it.” Grabbing the chart from the door, she entered the room. She stopped dead. Michael sat on the examining table, filling the room with his presence. Her breath caught at the sight of him.

  He gripped the edge of the gurney, the pressure whitening his knuckles. His hair hung loose around his face, and she had to shove her hand in her lab coat pocket to keep from running her fingers through it. Shadowed with exhaustion, his brilliant hazel eyes drew her forward, but she stopped halfway across the room.

  “I don’t have time for this,” she bit out. “I’m working.”

  A sudden movement in the corner caught her eye, and she turned to see Niko. She hadn’t noticed him earlier. She’d been too intent on memorizing Michael’s face. A face she’d planned to never see again.

  “He started having chest pains after he left here,” Niko said. “So I brought him back.”

  She trembled at the thought of Michael in danger and the chart fell from her numb fingers. “I can’t do this. Let me call someone else.”

  Niko shook his head. “He’s already been waiting forever.”

  The insinuation was clear—Michael could end up in worse shape if she didn’t get over herself and do her damn job. Ironic that it would come back to that.

  Forcing her feet to move forward, she snatched the chart from the floor and set it on the bed next to him before adjusting her stethoscope.

  “Take off your shirt, please,” she said digging deep for her sense of professionalism.

  Holding her gaze, Michael pulled off his T-shirt, revealing his beautifully sculpted chest and shoulders.

  She stepped closer, laid the diaphragm on his chest and listened to his rapidly pounding heartbeat. It was impossible not to breathe in the intoxicating scent of his skin, but somehow she managed to keep herself from stroking him. Pushing away the memory of him pinning her to the bed, she listened more closely. His breathing seemed labored.

  “I need to get your blood pressure.” Shoving her emotions aside, she wrapped the cuff around his arm and took the reading. After she recorded it, she reached for his wrist. Her own heart raced wildly as she took his pulse, her fingers clammy against his warm skin.

  “It’s in the normal range,” she said.

  Calling for a nurse, she ordered an EKG and a full battery of blood tests. She turned back to Michael and prepared to take his history. Her eyes traveled across his body before finding their way to his face. She looked away from the sorrow lurking there.

  “How long have you been having these pains?”

  “Since this afternoon, right after we took down Lucky.”

  Her head snapped up. “And you’re just asking to be seen now? What kind of moron are you?”

  “Nice bedside manner you’ve got there, Dr. Spinelli.” A seductive smile curved his lips, amplifying her indignation.

  “Don’t you realize how serious this might be?” she snapped. “How severe is the pain?”

  His smile faded and he held her captive with his gaze. “It feels like my heart is splitting in half.”

  Her pen tapped against the paper as cold dread gripped her. Possibilities marched through her head—blood clot, aneurysm, angina pectoris, coronary occlusion, thrombosis, myocardial ischemia or infarction. The inventory continued and her fear grew. Relying on her training, she went through a mental checklist.

  “Are you experiencing any pain in your arms?”

  “They’re kind of achy.”

  “How do you feel right now?”

  “Like my heart might explode.”

  Worry quickened her movements as she put her stethoscope on again. Stepping between his legs, she listened to his heartbeat. Niko slipped from the room, saying that he had to make a call, but Tori barely noticed him. Without warning, Michael locked his legs around hers, drawing her closer.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  His arms tightened around her, drawing her against his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  “Apologize later when I’m sure you’re not dying,” she snapped as she tried to extricate herself from his embrace, but he refused to let her go. “Michael, please. This is serious. We have to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

  “My arms ached because I needed to hold you,” he began. “And my chest hurt because my heart was breaking without you.”

  Understanding pelted Tori like cold rain. She stiffened. “You’re not sick?” she ground out, her hands fisting against him.

  “You want me to be?” His eyes twinkled with suppressed amusement.

  She shoved at his chest, angry at his manipulation and deception. He caught both of her hands in his, bringing them briefly to his lips.

  “Look, I know you’re pissed but what chance did you give me? This is the only way I could think of to keep you from turning your back on me.”

  She stared at him. Beneath her anger was r
elief so sharp, she nearly cried from it.

  “I can’t believe you lied to me.” She tried to tug her hands free, but he held onto her like a drowning man.

  “It wasn’t a complete lie. Living without you will kill me,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Come home with me. Please.”

  The simple plea extinguished her anger, and she closed her eyes against the sudden flood of tears.

  He cupped her cheek. “Look at me, Tori.”

  Taking a breath, she opened her eyes, heedless of the tears that lingered.

  “Back at Lucky’s, when I told Niko the job was over, I wasn’t talking about you.” He swallowed thickly. “You could never be a job.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he laid his fingers across her lips. “I’ve been thinking about the morning after Alex’s funeral.”

  She stiffened in his arms, not sure she wanted to go there tonight. “Michael…”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “The one thing I remember clearly about that morning was waking up with the feeling that I was where I was supposed to be—with you. I laid there thinking about losing Alex, and how I wouldn’t survive losing you, too. So I panicked and ran.”

  Lifting his head, he stared into her eyes. “I’m not running anymore. Please give me another chance.”

  Hope flickered in his eyes as he watched her. The same hope wavered in her heart.

  “I love you,” he breathed. “And I think you love me, too.”

  Her heart lurched at the tenderness emanating from his eyes.

  “I do.”

  Happiness and a sense of peace she’d never thought she’d feel again enveloped her, and she melted into him. He let out a long, slow breath as he pulled her closer, and she realized how much his admission had cost him. His heartbeat pounded against her own, and she wanted nothing more than to feel it without the burden of clothes between them.

  Lifting her head, she met him halfway as he took her mouth, sending waves of need washing over her. She cupped his face with her hands, delving into his mouth, savoring his desperate groan of surrender.

  Breaking the kiss, he raised his head, his eyes dark with arousal. “Tell me you’re coming home with me. If not, you should know I’m ready to take you right here. And I’ve got the cuffs with me.”

  She laughed. “I’m coming already.”

  A wicked grin curved his lips. “Soon. And often,” he promised, his voice husky with desire. “In fact, you should plan on screaming my name. A lot.”

  Lost between arousal and laughter, she kissed him again, willing to believe in the truth of their future together. “Bring. It. On.”

  About the Author

  Bronwyn Green lives in Michigan with her wonderful husband, two amazing sons and four somewhat-psychotic cats. When not tormenting her characters, she can usually be found helping with reading and writing projects in her sons’ classrooms as well as providing child care and tutoring for several daycare children. Besides writing, she also enjoys reading, knitting, sewing, cross stitching, pottery, drawing—basically anything that helps her avoid cleaning and cooking.

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