Sudden Attraction

by Rebecca York

  She stared from the cuffs to the gun and back again, struggling to control her terror and thinking she should never have left Cypress Cottage on her own. Luke had been worried that someone was on the property. Apparently he’d been right, and she’d been too wound up in her own concerns to credit the warning. Well, that and the need to put some distance between them.

  The man walked across the room, still holding the weapon pointed at her, then tossed the handcuffs onto the bed near her. “If you don’t want to get shot, put them on.”

  All sorts of horrible thoughts raced through her mind. She remembered what she’d learned in self-defense classes. If someone took you out of your environment and had control over you, you were probably going to end up dead.

  Mom had already ended up that way, and suddenly she thought—had this guy pushed her mother down the steps? And would he shoot now?

  If the man used the gun, would Luke hear? Or was he still sleeping?

  One thing she knew for sure—she wasn’t putting on the handcuffs. Not willingly. He’d have to knock her down first, maybe knock her out.

  When the cuffs landed near the boxes, she pretended to follow his directions, seeing him relax a little. But instead of clicking them onto her wrists, she threw them at him as hard as she could, already ducking as she scrambled to get out of the line of fire. A shot whizzed over her head, and she knew that he hadn’t been bluffing.

  Now what? The bed was between them, and she heard him cursing as his footsteps came toward her.

  There was nowhere to go. The window was behind her, but it was locked. And if she made a dash for it, he’d shoot her in the back. But maybe she could get into the bathroom and climb out the window onto the portico roof before he battered down the door.

  “Bitch,” the intruder snarled as he came around the bed.

  This time she picked up the dusty throw rug and threw it at him.

  He started coughing and slapping at the covering, apparently having trouble dislodging it with the gun in his hand—and also having trouble breathing through the dust.

  Good.

  But how long would the rug stop him?

  Her only way out was across the bed, and she leaped onto it, listening intently for sounds behind her.

  She knew he had finally gotten the rug off because his cursing was less muffled. She was almost to the edge of the mattress when he clamped his fingers around her ankle, preventing her from fleeing.

  “You’re going to be sorry about this,” he growled as he pulled her across the bed.

  She started kicking at him with her free leg, desperately trying to inflict damage while she struggled to get away.

  When he whacked her shin with the side of the gun, she gritted her teeth and kept kicking.

  The sound of pounding feet in the hall made them both look up.

  Her back was to the door, but what the man saw made him turn her ankle loose and dodge back, aiming the gun at whoever was in the doorway.

  Chapter Five

  Gabriella twisted around, goggling as she saw Luke leap into the room.

  “He’s got a gun,” she shouted.

  The gun went off, and she felt a bullet fly over her head.

  “Luke,” she screamed.

  “Get down.”

  Ducking low, he charged at the man, who got off another shot, but Gabriella managed to kick his hand, making the shot go wild.

  The intruder howled in frustration as Luke flung himself onto the bed.

  The two men rolled back and forth across the spread, dropping to the floor, where they kept fighting, struggling for the weapon.

  It discharged again, and one of them made a noise. Had Luke been hit?

  He smashed at the guy’s hand, banging the gun against the floor. It slipped from the man’s grasp, and she darted forward, kicking it out of the way, then darted back. She couldn’t shoot the guy and be sure she’d miss Luke.

  Looking frantically around for a less lethal weapon, she picked up the lamp beside the bed, preparing to bash the intruder over the head. But again she hesitated. The men were moving too fast for her to be accurate.

  The intruder must have reached the level of desperation. With a mighty heave, he threw Luke off of himself, scrambled up and charged out of the room.

  She heard him taking the stairs two at a time. Moments later the front door slapped open.

  When she ran to the window, she saw him tearing across the lawn.

  “Where’s he going?” Luke asked from the floor.

  “Into the woods. It looks like he’s cutting his losses.”

  “Good. But we can’t take that for granted. I mean,” he clarified in a gritty voice, “we have to get out of here.”

  He was right. The guy could come back. Turning toward Luke, she knelt beside him and saw a red stain on his shirt sleeve.

  When she gasped, he looked down at the blood spreading across the fabric and blinked.

  “Just a flesh wound,” he said.

  “How do you know?”

  Cautiously, he moved the arm and winced. “Logical deduction. It would hurt like hell if it hit the bone, and it didn’t hit an artery—or the blood would be coming out like a fountain.”

  “Thank goodness.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “How did you know the guy came in?”

  “I heard you get up. Saw you leave. I was going to come over here when I saw him slip out of the shadows under the trees and head for the house.”

  “Thank goodness,” she said again. “I’d better look at your arm.”

  He tensed when she reached for his hand. She was so focused on the wound that she’d forgotten about why she’d wanted to get away from him. Thinking that she might have to rip his sleeve to see the injury, she caught his wrist.

  But the moment her fingers brushed his flesh, she forgot what she’d been about to do. Forgot everything but the two of them.

  It was like the first time they’d touched, only more intense, the experience jolted up by her almost getting kidnapped and by Luke’s appearance just in the nick of time. Or perhaps it was because they were touching for the second time.

  All she knew was that one moment she was thinking clearly. In the next, sensations grabbed her. Sensations and the thoughts swirling in his consciousness.

  She was in his mind, watching him listen to her leaving Cypress. He went to the window of the cottage—looking at her—his stomach knotting as he realized she intended to slip away while he was still sleeping.

  Then he saw the man sneaking around the house and knew she was in trouble.

  Forcing himself to wait until the guy had disappeared, he followed with his heart pounding and found the window that had been removed.

  She saw all that. Felt his concern for her as he entered the house, listening for sounds, trying to figure out where she was and where the intruder was without giving himself away.

  At the same time, she knew he was pulling her own recent memories from her mind. Coming up here to search for clues to what her mother had been doing. Taking down the boxes. Her shock and fear when she saw the guy in the doorway. Saw the gun and the handcuffs.

  The terror of a few minutes ago when she’d been fighting for her life blended with her present emotions as Luke gathered her closer, tenderly and at the same time with an edge of passion.

  Heat leaped between them as he lowered his mouth to hers, moving his lips in an act of seduction that was sweet and hot all at the same time.

  Open for me.

  Oh, yes.

  He hadn’t spoken aloud, but she heard the words inside her head.

  She did as he asked, loving the way his tongue played with the sensitive tissue of her inner lips, then went farther, tracing the edges of her teeth, then finding her tongue.

  The headache was back, but she ignored it.

  Her pulse had been pounding with fear. Now it pounded with the blood suddenly rushing hotly through her veins.

  She felt more than her own desire. She felt his also. And unde
r the passion, the blinding dread he’d felt when he’d known she was in danger.

  She thought again that she hardly knew him. But it was a notion she’d clung to because she was coping with the unknown. They were important to each other in ways she couldn’t name. But she didn’t have to put a label on it to know it was true.

  That knowledge led to a deeper truth. She wanted him in every possible way. Mind. Body. Heart.

  And it was the same for him. She read that in the way his mouth moved urgently over hers. More than that, she saw his intentions. He was going to lie back on the rug, taking her with him until her body was sprawled on top of his. She liked the idea. Felt the same overwhelming urge to finish what they had started the night before.

  But when he moved his hand to cup her breast, she felt the pain in his arm lace through him. Pain he’d apparently forgotten about as soon as she’d touched him.

  Drawing back, she made a small sound of shock at her reckless disregard for him.

  “What are we doing? You’re hurt.”

  “Apparently it slipped my mind,” he answered ruefully, looking as dazed as she felt.

  While they both struggled to drag in air, she drew back, deliberately breaking the physical contact as she stared at him, trying to collect her scattered wits. “We have to…to fix your arm. Then we have to get out of here.”

  “Yeah. But you’ve got it in reverse order. You brought an overnight bag?”

  “It’s still in my car.”

  “I have to get a few things from the cottage.”

  “Now who’s the one with his priorities screwed up?”

  “Not me. I need my laptop. And my research materials. I’m not going anywhere without them.”

  “Yes, right.” She remembered, then, how important the book was to him. Important enough to risk his life.

  He was already pushing himself up. She would have helped him, but after the way heat had flared between them, she was afraid to touch him. If she did, they’d both forget what they were supposed to be doing.

  He stood on legs that weren’t entirely steady, bracing his good arm against the wall as he started toward the door.

  “I’ll be right there,” she murmured.

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

  “We should take the gun. And…” She gestured toward the papers she’d thrown at the intruder. “And this stuff. I think this may be what my mom went upstairs to get.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s nothing else important up here.”

  He looked torn. Finally he answered with a tight nod and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, and she felt guilt about making him wait.

  “You should sit down.”

  “If I do, I may not get back up.”

  “You’re in shock.”

  “Maybe.”

  She wasn’t going to waste time arguing with him. Instead, she quickly put the papers back in the box. There were also plastic bags in the closet, and she slipped the box into one to make carrying easier.

  “Okay.”

  She saw him collecting his strength before the trip to the first floor.

  When they reached the step, she dragged in a quick breath.

  “What?”

  “My mom…fell here. Unless, of course, he pushed her.”

  “Yeah. It could have been him. He’d already fixed himself up a way to get inside.”

  “I guess he was the stalker she called about.” She gave Luke a considering look as she switched to practical matters. “You’re not exactly steady on your feet. Maybe I should go first.”

  She moved around him, walking down a few steps and waiting for him to follow.

  He came cautiously after her. Once he did miss his footing, but his good hand was clutching the banister, and he kept from tumbling into her.

  “I’ll drive you to Cypress.”

  He snorted. “I’m not an invalid.”

  “Oh, right. Just shot in the arm. The bullet could still be in there.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She went into the kitchen and retrieved the spare set of car keys that she kept at Mom’s. With the gun in one hand and the keys in the other, she walked to the front door and looked out. What if the attacker had come back and was waiting for them to emerge? Did he know that Luke was shot and that he only had to contend with the woman he’d come to abduct?

  Why had he tried to take her? It had to be something specific to her. But what?

  She saw no sign of the man, but she hadn’t seen him before he’d stepped into the bedroom, and he had obviously been hanging around. Yesterday and today.

  Dragging in a breath, she searched the air for the smell of cigarette smoke on clothing, but she didn’t detect any.

  Still, she kept alert as she hurried down the steps and unlocked the car, then motioned for Luke to follow. Again, he walked painfully and slowly as he descended the outside steps, and she had to bite back the need to help him.

  As he reached the car, she looked back at the front door. Should she lock the house? Or was that a lost cause? Obviously the guy had figured out how to get in without the key.

  When she looked back at Luke, he was sitting in the front seat inspecting the grounds the way she had.

  “Lock the front door,” he muttered.

  “Are you reading my mind?”

  “No. Just being logical. You don’t want someone else coming in.”

  “What about the window?”

  He cursed. “Yeah. Forgot about that. I think we need to make it look like it’s intact.”

  “We need to see how badly you’re hurt.”

  “Like I said, we have to prioritize. Do the damn window first. Then we can leave as soon as we’ve got my stuff.”

  Staying out in the open made her nervous, but she drove around the side of the house and found the missing window. The whole thing had been removed and set against the wall. At least it wasn’t broken. Leaving the engine running, she climbed out of the car and lifted the frame and window into place. It fit into the molding, and when she stepped back, it wasn’t obvious that it had been removed and replaced.

  “We should call the police,” she said when she returned to the car.

  “In my experience, it’s better to leave the cops out of the equation unless you’ve got a body on your hands.”

  She winced. “Why?”

  “What are you planning to tell them? That someone broke in?”

  “Yes. At least they can keep an eye on the property.”

  “Are you going to tell them someone tried to kidnap you?”

  She thought about that.

  “If you do, they’ll have a lot of questions. And we’re going to have to report a gunshot wound—which I don’t want to do.”

  When she started to speak, he plowed ahead.

  “Because it’s safer just to get the hell out of here.”

  She thought about his reasoning. “Okay.”

  “Then you’d better tell your boss you’re not coming in.”

  “Damn! I wasn’t even thinking about that.”

  “Which?”

  “My job.”

  “You can say you need to take care of some stuff down here.”

  “He’ll tell me not to bother showing up.”

  “He’s that much of a bastard?”

  “Afraid so.”

  She studied Luke’s pale face and decided not to tire him out with any more conversation about their strategy or the trials of working with Emile Gautreaux. Instead, she backed up and looped down the drive, taking the cutoff to the cottages.

  The door to Cypress wasn’t locked, and she hesitated. “He could be in there.”

  Luke pressed past her. “Give me the gun.”

  She wanted to protest, but she handed over the weapon and watched while he stepped into the cottage. Unwilling to wait outside, she followed him in, where he checked the rooms.

  “Clear, as they say on the cop shows.” He went to his desk and sat down
heavily, then began opening drawers and pulling out papers, stuffing them into a briefcase.

  “Can I help?” she asked.

  “I have a duplicate set. One for me and one for my editor.”

  “It’s all on paper?”

  “No. It’s mostly the same as my computer files.” He turned and looked at her. “If anything happens to me, make sure they get to Parker and Sons in New York.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

  “Yeah. Right.” He looked toward the bedroom. “I keep a bag packed. It’s tan. In the bottom of the closet. Can you bring that, too?”

  “Yes.”

  When she returned, he was sitting with his eyes closed and the gun in his lap. Hearing her, he snapped to attention, but she saw his skin was clammy and beads of perspiration had broken out on his forehead.

  She gave him a critical look. “Your arm…”

  “When we get out of here.”

  “You’re putting your health in danger.”

  “It’s going to be in more danger if that guy comes back to shoot us.”

  “You think he will?”

  “I don’t know how desperate he is.”

  “Desperate—that’s an interesting way to put it.”

  He jammed a baseball cap on his head so that the bill partly hid his face. “There’s a jacket in the closet. I’d better put it on to hide the bloodstain.”

  “That will hurt.”

  “Yeah. But nobody’s going to forget a guy with a bloody shirt.”

  She brought a light jacket and helped him into it without touching him through the fabric. She could tell that moving his arm hurt like the devil and he was sweating badly by the time they finished.

  “Give me one of the bags, and let’s get out of here.”

  She understood he was right about leaving, but she wasn’t going to let him do any work.

  “No. You, uh, get in your car and cover me.”

  “My car? Why?”

  She scrambled for a good reason. “Just a feeling I have—that we should take it.”

  When he got up, his teeth were clenched, but he said nothing as he opened the door and stood surveying the area. Then he started painfully down the steps. He made it to the car and sat watching the surrounding area while she put the first load in the trunk.

  His face looked gray. How long could you let his wound go without treating it? She glanced at his laptop. Probably she could find out on the web. But that would only waste more time.