Sudden Attraction

by Rebecca York

  “I guess we’d better have a look in the big house,” Eddie said. “Maybe we’ll find a lead.”

  “Yeah, we gotta, cause Maglioni is going to be furious if we come up empty.”

  They left the cottage and headed for the main plantation house, circling the building and trying the windows. One of them pushed in easily and fell with the clatter of breaking glass onto the basement floor below.

  “Another surprise,” Bobby observed.

  “Maybe nobody’s keeping the place up.”

  “Or the guy with the muddy shoes was here.”

  “Either way, let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  They entered cautiously, alert for booby traps.

  Once inside the basement, they drew their guns and started for the first floor. A search of the house revealed that nobody was home and there had been some kind of disturbance in an upstairs bedroom.

  Eddie pointed toward a bullet hole in the wall. “The plot thickens.”

  His partner studied the scene. “My guess is that there was an ambush here. They were the winners. They went back to the cottage, cleared out and left in his car.”

  “So where did they go?”

  “She works in New Orleans. Maybe we can get a line on them in the city.”

  WHEN GABRIELLA WOKE AGAIN, she was gripped by a confusing kaleidoscope of thoughts and sensations. A dull ache had settled in her arm, and at the same time, a wave of desire flooded through her.

  Her eyes blinked open, and she stared up into Luke Buckley’s face, seeing the mixture of sensations that she’d already picked up from his mind.

  He was leaning over her, the hand on his good side caressing her lips.

  “Don’t,” she whispered against his fingers, unable to keep her lips from playing with his finger.

  He made another seductive sweep. “You like it.”

  “I can’t hide that from you, but we both know you need to rest.”

  “Was it part of the dream, or did you get into my nightmare? Did we talk about it?”

  “I did—and we talked.”

  “Strange, don’t you think?”

  She nodded.

  “We need to find out what’s going on between us.”

  It was a simple statement of fact, but it said so much about intimacy on so many different levels. She needed this man. In ways that she hadn’t even admitted to herself.

  His fingers slipped to her jaw, then the column of her throat, trailing a very agreeable warmth.

  “Don’t think about him,” he said.

  “You mean the guy who’s trying to kill us?”

  “Needle in a haystack.”

  “Maybe we’d have a better chance if we split up,” she murmured.

  She didn’t have to get inside his mind to feel the tension rippling through him. “Are you kidding?”

  “You don’t have any obligation to me.”

  “Are you trying to drive me away?”

  Was she? Had she come up with the suggestion because she felt too much? She longed to keep feeling this connection with Luke, but was she also afraid she would lose it? And she couldn’t cope with the loss?

  “You have to learn to take chances.” He answered her unspoken thoughts.

  She couldn’t hold back a quick reaction. “I do take chances. I bet everything that I could make it as a chef in New Orleans.” She gulped. “And now I’ve lost my job.”

  His voice rang with outrage. “Because you didn’t show up for work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice guy.”

  “I knew that when I signed on as his kitchen slave.”

  “You’ll get a better position. You’ve got a great reputation. Maybe that’s why Emile was so quick to let you go when you gave him an excuse. He knows that people are talking about you more than him. They’re probably coming to his restaurant for the desserts.”

  “You didn’t even hear the conversation I had with him, did you? You’re getting all that—how?”

  “I’m picking up impressions. Reacting to his behavior. Making deductions. That’s my job.”

  As Luke spoke, he leaned over, brushing his lips against hers. She knew he felt the sharp shaft of desire that stabbed through her. His hand drifted down, to the top of her breast, then lower, gliding over her nipple, making it instantly hard.

  “Nice,” he murmured. “You want me.”

  “Of course I do. But we can’t. You can’t.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  His voice was so seductive. More seductive was the increased pressure of his mouth against hers, the way his hand slipped under her shirt and stroked across the skin of her belly. Even though her denial made sense, she couldn’t stop the heat that suddenly surged through her.

  Through them, because his touch let her feel his desire and her own. It was strange to focus on that, on the way a man’s body reacted to arousal, with most of the sensations focused in one place.

  They had kissed before, touched before. The intensity was more now, building from the previous times.

  “Lie down,” she whispered against his mouth.

  He eased back against the pillows, his hand stroking the hair back from her forehead.

  “I’m going to check your arm.”

  “And here I thought you were seducing me.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “We’ll see how you’re feeling later.”

  He sighed, but he didn’t stop her as she turned on the bedside lamp and took off the bandage, trying to ignore his heated thoughts. She might be focused on tending to his wound. He was still focused on the erotic possibilities of the moment.

  “Men!”

  He laughed.

  “You’re not as steady as you’re pretending to be.”

  “Thanks for the news bulletin.”

  Trying to focus on something besides her own arousal, she inspected the wound. It looked about the same, which was a good sign, she assumed. No redness. No swelling. As far as she could tell, it wasn’t infected. And she knew from his silent assessment as she worked that the pain was less than it had been.

  She put on more antiseptic, then used more sterile pads and tied them in place.

  “We’re going to need to stop at a drugstore,” she said. “I’m running out of supplies.”

  “Later.”

  “We should eat.”

  “You’re stalling.”

  “And you’re hungry.”

  He laughed. “And you happen to have food in the trunk. But nothing exactly nourishing. Are your desserts good enough to substitute for sex?”

  “I think you said you read the reviews of my work.”

  “Yes.”

  She caught another thought from his mind.

  “Yes, I brought home goodies for my mom.” With the mention of her mother, recent memories zinged back to her.

  To distract herself, she climbed off the bed and found her shoes. Outside she looked up at the sky. They’d slept much of the day and into the evening.

  It was tempting to bring in a change of clothing, but she could do that later. Leaving the luggage in the car, she picked up the box of desserts.

  Luke was sitting up when she came back. After spreading a towel on the bed, she opened the box, revealing a tempting selection.

  “No forks. I’m sorry.”

  “Not to worry. More fun this way.” Luke broke a piece off a flourless chocolate cake and ate it. “This is good. It really is almost a substitute for sex.”

  “Uh-huh.” She smiled at him, thinking that this warm interlude was a sample of what she could have with him—if a killer wasn’t after them.

  Trying to shut that thought out of her mind, she took some of the same cake, then helped herself to part of a pecan pie. It was a spectacularly decadent meal.

  Luke licked his fingers. “A nice picnic.”

  “I could go out and buy something more substantial.”

  His reaction was instantaneous. Grabb
ing her wrist, he said, “The guy’s looking for you. You can’t go out.”

  Trying to focus on logic rather than reaction, she answered, “We can’t stay here forever.”

  “We’ll wait a few hours, then see how things are going.”

  He was still holding on to her, making the connection between them again.

  She should pull away, but she stayed where she was, letting her thoughts drift to his, pleased that she could do it more easily.

  “You thought that guy who was trying to kidnap me could be from the mob.”

  “I changed my mind, but they’re still looking for me.”

  The conversation was quickly being overwhelmed by the desire building between them.

  More than I ever felt before, he said into her mind, echoing her earlier thought.

  “Why is this happening with us?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I keep thinking we can use…it, Gabriella said.

  How?

  I wish I knew. I wish I knew how we got it.

  BILL WELLINGTON, ALSO KNOWN as the Badger, carefully replaced the receiver. He’d been waiting for a call from George Camden, and when his operative hadn’t checked in, he tried the guy’s cell. No answer. Which was probably not good news. If George had his cell turned off, he must be afraid to report his lack of progress.

  He clenched his fists, struggling to control his anger. This was the second time in the past month that the hired help hadn’t proved up to the job of capturing one of the children from the clinic. Apparently it was what you got when you used guys who had more brawn than brains.

  Had Gabriella gotten away because she was with the Buckley guy? Or was it because she had some special talents that Bill didn’t know about?

  The last couple who’d slipped out of his clutches had both been from the clinic, but there was no record of anyone named Luke Buckley. So who the hell was he, and why was he protecting Gabriella?

  Or did he have his own agenda? Which was what? Did he have a line on Gabriella’s origins and think he could exploit them in some way?

  Wellington sighed. Much as he hated coming out of the shadows, he was beginning to think he’d better go to Louisiana. Then he’d be nearby if Camden managed to round up the girl. If not, he’d have to make other arrangements.

  GEORGE CAMDEN SLOWED AS he came to another motel. With no other options, he’d been methodically checking each one in the towns around Lafayette, still assuming that Buckley wasn’t getting very far with a bullet wound. George had been to dozens of places, going north first, then coming back toward town and picking another route. This was hopeless, but he had no better options.

  Or maybe he could go back to Houma and start over again. Find someone else who had worked at that damn clinic and make them talk. What if he started fresh with a different woman who had gone there so she could have a brat to take care of?

  The idea was tempting. Only then he’d have to explain to the Badger why he had failed to scoop up Gabriella Boudreaux. And he had the feeling that the Badger was the type of guy who didn’t deal well with failure.

  He turned into the parking lot of the Lazy Bayou and scanned the cars, looking for one covered with mud. He didn’t see anything like the swampmobile that had zoomed out of the bayou, but it could be around back.

  With a weary sigh, he pulled up at the office and got out.

  The clerk behind the counter eyed him as he stepped through the door.

  “Help you?”

  “I’m looking for a guy.”

  “That takes in half the human race.”

  He laughed. “Well, this is a jerk who gave me some trouble last night. Did you get anyone…who was trying to spin you a story?”

  “I don’t give out that kind of information for free.”

  George pulled out a fifty dollar bill and pushed it toward the clerk.

  The man’s hand snaked out and whisked the money out of sight. “I got a guy who said he was alone, but a woman was hiding in the backseat of his car.”

  George’s ears perked up. “Oh, yeah?”

  “The guy looked wasted.”

  GABRIELLA HADN’T SEEN the motel office because Luke had told her to wait in the car. Now a sudden picture of the little room formed in her mind.

  She was seeing it from Luke’s point of view when he’d been in there pretending that he was in town for a friend’s wedding—and that the two of them had gotten sloshed together.

  He’d spun out that story, then he’d asked the guy to…

  Her focus shifted to the clerk.

  The scene leaped forward. The man was talking to…George.

  In the next second, the phone rang.

  Chapter Eight

  Gabriella stared at the ringing phone. She didn’t need Luke to tell her what was wrong.

  “We have to get out of here,” she said. “George was in the motel office.”

  Luke didn’t ask how she knew. He only said, “Check the window.”

  Gabriella pulled the curtains aside and looked out.

  “Too late. A car’s coming down the driveway.”

  It was the same car that had followed them into the swamp.

  Luke muttered a curse before picking up the phone and holding the receiver to his ear. “Thanks,” he said in a harsh voice, then slammed the receiver down again.

  “We’ve still got the gun, right?” she asked in a strangled voice.

  “Yeah, but odds are he has another one by now. And this isn’t such a great place for a shoot-out.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Luke ducked into the bathroom, then charged out again. His face was gray but his voice was firm. “There’s a window. You can get out that way.”

  She gasped. “What about you?”

  When he told her what he had in mind, she shook her head. “No. That leaves you in too much danger.”

  “My specialty. And we don’t have time for a debate. Just make sure you close the window behind you so he doesn’t know where you went.”

  Although she wanted to argue, she knew he was right. Still, she couldn’t shake a sick feeling as she picked up the gun from the bedside table and headed for the bathroom.

  Behind her, she could hear Luke moving around the room, getting ready. She’d hooked up with a man of action, one who had been in tight spots before. If she’d been on her own, George would have captured her at the plantation.

  Now Luke had come up with another plan.

  Unfortunately, getting out wasn’t so easy. The window was stuck.

  Teeth gritted, she tried to wrench it upward several times with no results. Should she break it?

  No. Then George would know where she’d gone. She gave it one more desperate try, and the sash slid up with a grinding noise.

  The opening was small, and she had to step on the toilet tank and wiggle one shoulder out, then the other. Her heart was pounding as she eased through. Before she could make her escape, she heard a sharp rap on the door.

  When Luke didn’t answer, a hard voice called out, “Open up.”

  “I can’t.”

  She knew Luke was trying to buy her time. With her heart in her throat, she struggled to close the window behind her. Then she leaned against the building for a moment, trying to catch her breath and steeling herself for what came next.

  LUKE LAY BACK ON THE BED, on top of the covers. His shirt was still off, the bandage prominent on his arm where the guy would spot it right away.

  He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it as he arranged his features so he looked as if he was in pain. Which wasn’t difficult because the damn arm still hurt. But not as badly as he wanted George to think.

  “Open up, damn you!”

  The door shook on its hinges and held for a moment longer, then finally burst open. The man who had shot him plowed into the room. He had a determined expression on his face and a gun in his hand. Luke’s gun, the one he’d left at the cottage. Too bad he hadn’t been thinking straight when he’d cleared ou
t.

  “Where is she?” the intruder asked.

  “Not here,” he said in a thin voice, trying to convey the impression that he was on his last legs.

  The guy kept the gun trained on Luke as he opened the closet and checked inside, then looked into the bathroom.

  “Where is she?” he said again.

  Luke stared at him. “Leave me alone. I’m hurt.”

  The guy gave him a calculating look. “Tough luck. I guess you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Well, that was an interesting piece of information. Proof positive that Luke had not been the target.

  “What did you want with her, George?” he asked, trying out the name.

  The guy’s eyes bugged out. “How did you…”

  “Trade secret.”

  The man took a step forward.

  Luke kept his gaze focused on George, even when he saw movement in back of him.

  He couldn’t keep from reacting. He’d expected to see Gabriella running into the bayou. Instead, he saw the motel clerk coming toward the room. Apparently he hadn’t been able to leave well enough alone. Probably he was thinking there would be entertainment value in the confrontation. But even as the clerk entered the room, he saw Gabriella through the window, coming toward the doorway.

  Luke swore.

  The clerk stood paralyzed.

  They’d agreed that Gabriella would get the hell out of there. Now a sick feeling tore through Luke as he watched her rushing toward what could be disaster. She must have agreed to his plan only because she had plans of her own. And now the clerk was gumming them up.

  In his mind he shouted to her, Get back. Get out of here.

  But you…

  Get back!

  They were talking to each other without speaking. They’d done it before, when they’d been touching. Now it seemed the danger had forged the link even when they were yards apart. But he didn’t have time to marvel at the new development. Too much was happening.

  George whirled, confronting the clerk. “Keep your nose out of this.”

  The nosy guy was backing away.

  Then to Luke’s horror, Gabriella moved closer.

  “No!” Luke shouted, watching his hasty plan falling apart in front of his eyes.