Lucas wanted to hit the wall with his fist. He should have called the magazine and warned them not to discuss Michelle.
“Is something wrong?” Iggy asked.
“Michelle is in danger.” He didn’t know how tough to play it. “She’s okay now, but that photograph has put her in harm’s way. Please don’t discuss it with anyone else. Don’t reveal anything about Michelle to anyone.”
“How do I know I should trust you?” Iggy was nobody’s fool.
“You don’t. But you have to, anyway. If anyone calls and asks, as far as you know, Michelle is on assignment in Africa.”
“You’d better keep her safe.”
“That’s my goal.” He hung up, still kicking himself for not calling the magazine sooner. The Maxims had undoubtedly tracked Michelle to Alabama. And his gut told him that they’d beaten him to the cottage.
While he couldn’t dispute that Lorry and Charles were gone, the fact that they’d packed so many personal items made him feel better. It looked as if the two newlyweds had prepared to make a run for it, knowing there would be no coming back to this wonderful and secluded cottage.
If that assumption was true, Lorry was aware of the fact that she was in danger; it also told him she was at least one step ahead of Robert Maxim and his thugs. Now he had to figure out how to keep it that way.
He found nothing useful in the garage and moved on to the outside of the house. Tire tracks from the vehicle that had been inside the garage were clearly visible in the dirt, and he followed them to the main road, where he stopped. A second set of trademarks from a larger vehicle told another story.
The vehicle had pulled up to the edge of the property, braked enough to leave skid marks and left. It would be an educated guess that the car belonged to someone from Maxim’s organization. But before or after Lorry and Charles left?
What might have happened made his gut knot.
He started back to the house and saw the black cat in the window, pawing the glass to get his attention.
What the hell? What was going on now?
He increased his speed and entered the front door. Every sense alert, he paused, taking in the quietness of the house, the cat racing toward him, the lack of sound from the kitchen.
Where was Michelle?
He wanted to call out, but he’d spent too many years working as a cop to give his position away by yelling. Instead, he swept through the front of the house, toward the kitchen, as stealthily as the black cat at his side. He let his body move into the patterns of a skilled officer while he focused on listening.
Glass rattled in the kitchen. He picked up a heavy brass figurine as a weapon. Where was Michelle? Had someone slipped into the house, surprised her and hurt her? The idea of it made him grip the figurine harder. He’d been a fool to turn in his gun. This business with the Maxim brothers wouldn’t be finished until Antonio had exhausted his last appeal and Robert was behind bars with him.
Grief at his brother’s murder had pushed him to take a rash action. Now he was in a dangerous place, with no weapon.
Just as he pushed at the door, something smashed on the tile floor in the kitchen.
“Damn it!” Michelle said.
Lucas lowered his makeshift club and inhaled. “You okay?” he asked.
“Fine. I just broke a wineglass. Probably one of her wedding gifts. I wonder if I can do any more damage in this woman’s life.”
He eased the door open and stepped inside to find Michelle kneeling as she swept up the glass. “I’m sure it can be replaced,” he said.
“I hope so.” She rose slowly, not meeting his gaze.
“It’s a glass. Don’t make it a big issue.” Her hangdog attitude worked on him far quicker than her bluster or defensiveness. He’d been pretty hard on her, and she would suffer, too. As she’d pointed out, she’d lost a life she’d worked hard to build.
She put the broken pieces of glass in the trash, her face shielded by her beautiful red hair. “Find anything?”
“Nothing that tells me where Lorry might have gone.” He didn’t want to mention the second set of tire prints. Michelle was on edge enough.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“Some food, and then a hotel, I guess.”
Dusk had fallen, and with the fading of the light, he was touched with a familiar sadness. He hated this time of day, when activity ended. When he was growing up on the West ranch in the Texas panhandle, the end of the day had been a time to celebrate with a filling supper and stories of history and adventure. He, his parents and his brother had been a close family, one that worked the land and struggled together. This time of day had always been filled with love.
The problem with family hour was that it required a family to make it work.
Michelle pushed her hair back from her face. “I’m beat. Lucas, can I call the gallery? Marco is going to be worried sick.”
He considered it. Although he wasn’t on the payroll any longer, he needed to check in with the agency. “Let me call the marshals in Texas and have them relay a message to him. The less he knows, the safer he is.”
She conceded without a single argument, and he wanted to reach out and touch her forehead to see if she might be running a fever. In his limited experience with the redhead, she never gave up a point without a fight.
“You want some dinner?” he asked.
She didn’t have time to answer before the cat jumped from the kitchen counter into his arms.
“Familiar is ready to eat,” Michelle said, and the hint of a smile was magical. Lucas found himself wondering what other things could put a smile on her face.
“Then let’s find some chow. This area is known for its seafood restaurants.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
THE WINE WAS DELICIOUS, cold and crisp, a surprise. Michelle hadn’t expected Lucas to be a connoisseur of the grape, but he’d selected the best of the offerings. She sipped hers and thought about the brochure she’d found in the kitchen—the one she’d tucked into the waistband of her jeans just as Lucas had come unexpectedly into the kitchen.
He’d almost caught her.
The cat had tried to rat her out—pawing on the window like a demented creature to get Lucas’s attention—but so far, Lucas was unaware of what she’d discovered under the refrigerator. It had probably fallen free of the magnets that held other notes to the metal frame.
The brochure wasn’t much. Probably not anything. Just a pamphlet that showed white-sand beaches and gentle aqua waves. Gulf Shores, a resort community a little over an hour away from where they were.
Maybe it was where Lorry and Charles had honeymooned, but Michelle didn’t think so. Most newlyweds wanted the unfamiliar, and Gulf Shores was too close to be an exotic honeymoon locale.
But it was a perfect hiding place, because it was in plain sight. And she had an address with a condo unit number written on the brochure. If her hunch was right, she’d find Lorry and Charles before the night was over.
And then she’d use herself as bait to draw the Maxim people after her while Lorry and Charles escaped.
She’d given it a lot of thought, and this whole mess was her fault. The only thing she could do to rectify it would be to lure the thugs away from Lorry and Charles and to herself. If she could get the attention of the Maxim organization and tempt them into chasing her, then Lucas would be free to keep Lorry safe. This wouldn’t undo the damage she’d done by printing that picture, but it would be a step in the right direction.
She watched Lucas eat his grilled shrimp. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to find a restaurant with a private dining area so they could eat without fear of being seen. It was one of the most considerate things anyone had ever done for her. Which made her feel only that much worse.
What she planned to do wasn’t exactly an ethical thing, but in the long run, it would work out for the best. He could focus on protecting Lorry, and she’d take care of herself. She’d always taken care of herself, so this wouldn’t be
such a big deal. She’d stay on the move, going in unexpected directions and not contacting anyone.
The thought that she’d chosen a lonely, dangerous path didn’t escape her. But was it really a choice? Lorry and Charles were in danger because of her, and somehow, she had to make this right.
“Michelle, is something wrong with your grouper?”
She loaded her fork. “It’s wonderful.”
“You aren’t eating.”
“I’m tired,” she said. “This has been a long, hard day, and I’m disappointed we didn’t find Lorry and Charles.”
“We’ll find them. Tomorrow I’ll check out a few things that should at least give us a direction to look in. Eleanor may be able to think of something.”
Familiar, who’d managed to slip in with them, was under the table. Lucas had been feeding him shrimp, and Michelle put some of the fish on a small saucer and slipped it to him. She was rewarded with a sandpapery kiss on her shin, a sensation that almost made her giggle. Heaven forbid that the cat find out she was ticklish.
“Listen, Michelle, this will end okay.”
She wanted to believe him, but it was difficult. Ever since the gallery exhibit had opened, she’d felt as if she’d stepped into a nightmare. Things didn’t turn out okay in nightmares. They just got worse.
Lucas was staring at her. She wanted to meet his gaze with bravado, but she found she couldn’t. She wasn’t normally dishonest by nature, and the fact that she was going to deceive him left her feeling cheap and low. Her hand strayed to her purse, but she’d already surreptitiously checked it twice. Lucky she’d thought to pack the prescription sleeping pills, which she rarely took.
“I’m sorry you got mixed up in this. I know it was an innocent mistake.”
She lifted a shoulder. Why was he being so nice now? It was only going to make what she had to do harder than ever.
She felt the cat’s sharp claws in her thigh, and she almost jumped, but she controlled herself. “I’m sorry, too, Lucas,” she said. “If I could undo it, I would.”
“I believe you.”
When she looked at him, her breath caught in her chest. He was staring at her as if he really saw her, saw beyond the physical and into her very heart. She’d never experienced such a thing. All through her childhood, she’d wanted someone to really see her, and now that it was happening, she felt panic.
“Do you want to leave?” Lucas asked. He was putting his napkin on the table.
“No!” She ate a forkful of her fish. “This is the best seafood I’ve ever had. Let’s finish our meal. Besides, Familiar would never forgive me if I forced him to leave before he got his fill. He thinks we’re starving him.”
“Who would’ve thought a cat could be so…articulate,” Lucas said. He reached across the table for the salt as her fingers circled the crystal shaker.
The warmth of his hand was like a promise, a vow of protection from a man who was solid and real. They both froze. She saw his throat work as he swallowed, and she felt the flush of blood move along her skin. The merest touch of his hand had sent her into a tailspin.
Of all times, why, in this situation, was the one thing she’d dreamed of happening? She’d dated, both seriously and for fun. She’d been engaged and had broken it off when she discovered that her fiancé had problems with the truth. But with all the men she’d known, she’d never before felt such a rush of intimacy, such a driving desire for his hand on her flesh.
The merest brush of his fingers sent a sensual thrill through her from head to toe. Her body was alive in a way it had never been before. Lucas, too, was affected. She could see it in the shallowness of his breathing and the way his gray eyes seemed to drink her in.
“More wine?” the waiter asked, breaking the moment.
Michelle pushed the salt into Lucas’s hand. She felt disoriented.
“Michelle, would you like more?”
She shook her head. “I’m already a little dizzy. I don’t think more would be a good idea.” It wasn’t the wine that had sent her head spinning, and she knew it.
“Just the check,” Lucas said.
Familiar eased from beneath the tablecloth, stretched and jumped into the seat beside Michelle. His wise gold-green eyes read far too much, and Michelle found herself blushing anew.
Even if she could call Marco or Kevin, neither would believe that she was embarrassed because a cat had witnessed her pass the salt to a man. Jiminy, she was losing it. Really losing it.
LUCAS TOOK THE SALT AS if he didn’t know what it was. The touch of Michelle’s hand had been unexpected. He’d been kicked by a mule once as a young boy, and the impact had been less. Michelle Sieck was a dangerous woman. He’d underestimated her. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Until this was resolved, he’d make certain that their fingertips didn’t so much as graze each other. Once this was behind them, though, and if Michelle had to be put into the witness protection program, he might decide to reapply for his badge. Or he might start a private bodyguard service. The idea made him smile. To hide his thoughts from her, he focused on his food.
Whatever was happening in that pretty little head of hers, she didn’t have much of an appetite. The cat had eaten most of her fish.
Well, they’d get a hotel room. His thoughts hit that spot and ground to a stop. They’d have to share a room. There was no way he could allow her to stay by herself. Not even with the cat. Michelle was a woman who acted on impulse, and that could be a dangerous thing.
He stabbed another bite of shrimp, trying to come up with a solution. This was one battle he didn’t look forward to, but it was one he couldn’t afford to lose.
LITTLE MISS SHUTTERBUG ACTS like she’s got ants in her pants. Which tells me she’s up to something. And Lucas is becoming so besotted with her that he can’t see it. Which means that before the night is over, my incredible skills will be called into play.
Even from under the table, I can watch the interaction between the two of them. I peep at him, and he’s staring at her. I peep at her, and she’s toying with that heavenly fish on her plate, but she won’t look him in the eye.
These are not teenagers on a first date. This is a U.S. marshal and an NYC professional. Not exactly your shy and retiring types. But the crosscurrent of desire is so strong, I’m glad to stay under the table. I’m afraid the electrical charge would blast me out of my sleek black fur coat.
What Lucas is missing, though, is the guilt stamped clearly on Miss Shutterbug’s face. She’s hot and bothered, but that’s physical. She’s so miserable, she can’t eat. My prediction is that she’s feeling the pinch of something she’s about to do, not a past deed.
So, I’ll kick back here under the table and enjoy the last of this sumptuous seafood and see what happens.
There’s her hand going into her purse. Is she deliberately being sly, or is she simply checking for her lipstick? The former, of course.
And what does she bring forth from the depths of that bag but a prescription. Hand in lap, she’s fumbling the top off. It’s possible that she has a medical condition and is only taking her meds, but I’m not nearly that naive. I’ve been around too many humanoids to buy that for one second.
And Lucas is standing up, going to the gentlemen’s room, I presume. And there her hand is, moving up, up, and she’s leaning across the table.
A little claw right in the old calf muscle, and she’s letting out a shriek like she found a snake in her shoes. Here comes Lucas on the double-quick. And she’s laughing and pretending that she startled herself.
Ha-ha, very funny. He’s buying her story. And my goodness, he just gulped down his glass of wine in one swallow—along with whatever she put in it.
Chapter Seven
To Lucas’s surprise, Michelle didn’t argue about the room. She got her bag out of the rental car and claimed one of the double beds. Within moments, she was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and preparing for the night. He figured she was as exhausted as he was. Suddenl
y, he could barely hold his eyes open. Several sleepless nights in a row had finally caught up with him.
He piled up the pillows on his bed and leaned back into them, waiting for his turn in the bathroom. He had to chuckle at the black cat. Familiar had perched atop Michelle’s overnight bag and was watching the bathroom door like he figured the bogeyman would come through it.
He had to admit, the cat was a trip. He’d give Eleanor a call first thing in the morning and let her know the feline was safe and gaining his respect.
Lucas yawned, his eyes sliding shut before he could even brush his teeth. Struggling into a sitting position, he felt the room begin to spin.
This wasn’t right! He’d had only two glasses of wine. He was tired, sure, but not tired enough to be dizzy.
He got his feet on the floor and tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t support him. Tottering, he felt back onto the bed. Now his arms and legs wouldn’t respond at all.
Panic made him flounder, but no amount of mental willfulness could force his body to respond.
He knew then what had happened. Michelle had put something in his wine. And she was hiding out in the bathroom, waiting for it to take effect.
When he came out of this, he was going to find some handcuffs and keep her confined. Just as soon as…
MICHELLE PEEKED INTO THE room. Lucas was sprawled across the bed. She could see where he’d tried to get up and failed.
She opened the door and stepped to the bed. The cat was on top of her bag and refused to budge. His little way of showing that he disapproved of her actions.
“I have to do this,” she told him, feeling only slightly ridiculous for explaining herself to a cat. “This mess is all my fault. I have to find Lorry and unite her with Lucas so he can keep her safe. Then I’ll get the Maxims to chase me. It’s the only way I can make this right.”
To her surprise, Familiar moved off her bag and let her repack her things. She picked up the car keys from the bedside table. Taking the rental car would mean leaving Lucas without a vehicle, but he was a man with resources. He’d get another car.
Familiar Vows Page 5