Eric’s mouth went dry.
“Two...”
His mind’s eye conjured up a picture of Lily. Lily’s beautiful face. Green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. The dimples dancing in her cheeks as she explained the mystery behind her family curse.
Eric tried to squeeze the memory from his mind. Lily’s curse was the last thing he needed to think about. But for the briefest second, he questioned his doubt in magic and curses. For the first time, he wondered if he really was destined to meet with an early demise thanks to his pending marriage to Lily.
“Three...”
No. He refused to believe Lily had anything to do with this crazed man with a gun in his hand. Divorces were filled with passion, involving two people in highly emotional states. As an attorney he handled potentially volatile situations every day. There was no connection between marrying Lily and Fontaine’s threat.
“Four, five. Time’s up, Mr. Attorney.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Eric saw Fontaine’s lawyer, Mrs. Fontaine and the court stenographer hit the floor. Eric followed suit, diving for protection under the table. His reaction time proved a hair too late.
Eric heard a pop, then another, as a burning pain stung his backside.
* * *
“Lily, I think you’d better listen to this,” her assistant said rushing into her office, shoving a portable radio into Lily’s hands.
Lily smiled. “Ann, if this is another one of your rap songs—”
“Lily, I think it’s about Eric.”
“Eric?” Lily’s heart skipped a beat. She popped on the radio’s headphones and listened carefully to the tinny voice of the news announcer:
“Recapping the news bulletin, a shooting at the law offices of Franklin and Hirsch. One man injured, believed to be a divorce attorney representing Franklin and Hirsch. One man arrested. Details at the top of the hour.”
Could it be Eric? A hot spill of panic raced through her veins. Not again, she told herself. This couldn’t be happening again.
She threw down the radio and reached for the telephone to dial Eric’s office. The phone rang before she had a chance to pick up the receiver. A cold chill of foreboding swept her body, quickly replacing the heat of panic, as she recognized Eric’s secretary’s voice.
“Where is he?” Lily asked simply.
“Maricopa General,” Mrs. Hunter said. “But, Lily—”
“I’m on my way.” Lily slammed the phone onto its cradle and grabbed her purse.
“Lily, you’re too upset to drive. Let me take you.” Ann placed a hand on her arm, stopping her headlong rush for the door.
Lily felt numb. “Thanks, but I need you to stay here at the bakery.”
Reluctantly, Ann released her. “Promise me you’ll call as soon as you hear anything...anything at all.”
Lily nodded, then left.
The entrance to the hospital was crowded. Like scavengers searching for a morsel of food, reporters and camera men were scoping the halls, looking for a story. Lily shot them a distasteful glance, remembering the unwanted attention she’d received from reporters following the plane crash that had taken David’s life. The memory felt like an omen. She pushed it from her mind.
“Lily.”
Lily spun around, searching for the woman who’d called her name. Through the crowd, she spotted Mrs. Hunter, Eric’s secretary.
“Look at you. You’re as pale as a ghost,” Mrs. Hunter said with a tsk. “I tried to tell you on the phone, but you wouldn’t let me finish, so I came here. Eric’s fine.”
Lily said nothing. She’d broken every speed limit getting there. But still, the past twenty minutes had seemed to drag by, giving her too much time to think. By the time she’d pulled into the hospital parking lot, she’d convinced herself the worst had happened. That she had lost Eric. Now no amount of reassurance could soothe her. She had to see him for herself.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Mrs. Hunter sighed. “Come on, then. Let’s go find Eric.”
Mrs. Hunter pushed her way through the crowded lobby with Lily in tow. She marched up to the nurses’ desk outside the emergency room. “We need to see a patient,” she demanded.
The nurse, a tall, thin woman with sparrowlike features, opened the patient registry. “The patient’s name?”
“Eric Mitchell.”
The nurse snapped the registry closed. “Sorry, ma’am. You’ll just have to wait outside along with everyone else.”
Mrs. Hunter straightened her shoulders and shot the nurse a determined look. “I don’t think you understand. I have to see him now.”
The nurse planted her hands on her bony hips. “I don’t think you understand. No one’s getting through to see Mr. Mitchell unless they’re a relative.”
Mrs. Hunter jutted out her chin. “I’m his mother.”
Lily’s eyes widened in surprise.
Before she could object, Mrs. Hunter grabbed Lily’s arm and hauled her up to the desk. “And this is his pregnant wife.”
Lily strangled a moan.
The nurse reopened the registry and ran a finger over the file. “Mr. Mitchell didn’t mention he was married.”
“He didn’t?” Lily asked, deciding to follow Mrs. Hunter’s lead. She blinked hard, trying to appear shocked. “How could he have forgotten?”
Mrs. Hunter leaned confidingly toward the nurse. “Newlyweds,” she whispered. “Look, he’s just been shot. Do you expect him to remember everything?”
The nurse glanced from one to the other. Lily could almost hear her mind working, sizing them up, wondering what the chances were that two reporters would go this far for a story.
“I give up,” she said, releasing a long-suffering sigh. “Follow me.”
Saying a quiet prayer of thanks for Mrs. Hunter, Lily followed the nurse and Eric’s secretary into the examining room. She stopped dead in her tracks. Overwhelming relief flooded her body as she spotted Eric sitting on the examining table. One sleeve of his shirt seemed to have been cut and the seam ripped. The ragged ends revealed a bandage wrapped around his forearm. The impatient scowl on his face softened as their eyes met.
“Your wife and mother are here, Mr. Mitchell,” the nurse informed him.
Eric frowned, looking confused.
Lily stepped up to the table, carefully embracing him. “Thank goodness, you’re okay.”
“Mother?” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
“I’ll explain later,” Lily murmured, her lips lingering against his cheek. His face felt rough with the beginnings of a late-day beard. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in the familiar scent of citrus and spice. She wanted to shout her relief. Eric was alive.
“I told her you were okay,” Mrs. Hunter interrupted. “She wouldn’t believe me.”
Eric grinned. “At least you tried...Mom.”
“Mom, indeed,” Mrs. Hunter harrumphed loudly, struggling to hide a pleased smile. She turned to Lily. “If you need me, I’ll be outside.”
Lily watched as Mrs. Hunter strode away, arm in arm with the skeptical nurse. Once they were alone, Lily turned on Eric. “What happened?”
Eric held out his bandaged arm. “I got a cut. Ten stitches. Can you believe it? This doctor acted as though it were no big deal when he put a needle and thread through my arm.”
Lily persisted. “The radio said there was a shooting.”
Eric muttered an oath. “Lily, it was nothing. Believe me. We were in the middle of a deposition, when my client’s husband got a little upset. He pulled an air pistol out of his suit jacket just to scare me.”
Lily touched the bandage with the tips of her fingers. “Obviously he did more than scare you.”
Color crept across Eric’s face. “The jerk had a BB gun. He shot off a couple of pellets. They hit me on my backside but bounced off without doing any harm.” He grinned sheepishly. “I cut my arm on the table’s metal leg when I ducked under it for protection.”
The trembling chi
ll returned. The thought of a man pointing a gun at Eric stunned her. Her worst fear blossomed, stretching cold petals of horror throughout her body. She wanted to hold Eric in her arms and protect him. But she had the awful feeling it was in her arms that Eric was most vulnerable.
A man in a white coat breezed into the emergency room, drawing her out of her disturbing reverie. He nodded a greeting.
“I’m Dr. Kirby. You must be Mrs. Mitchell.”
Lily’s heart thudded. She wondered why such an innocent statement could suddenly take on such a deadly connotation.
“How are we doing, Mr. Mitchell?” the doctor asked, looking at Eric’s arm.
“We are ready to leave,” Eric muttered.
The doctor smiled. “Not until you have your shot.”
Lily gazed at the doctor, a question in her eyes. “Shot?”
“Mr. Mitchell cut himself on a metal object. He needs a tetanus shot,” the doctor said, his tone brisk. As he spoke, the nurse appeared, carrying a tray with a cotton ball and syringe.
“I’m sure this isn’t necessary,” Eric said, ready to argue. “I had all my shots when I was a kid.”
“Tetanus shots need to be updated,” the doctor said, his tone allowing no arguments.
Eric scowled. “You’d think jabbing me with a needle and thread would be bad enough. But no, now I need a shot. Doc, I sure hope your malpractice insurance is up-to-date.”
The doctor ignored Eric’s threats. He nodded toward Eric but directed his question to Lily. “Is he always this cranky?”
Lily smiled. “Worse.”
The doctor chuckled as he swabbed Eric’s upper arm with the alcohol-laced cotton ball. When he picked up the syringe, Eric blanched.
Lily placed a reassuring hand on Eric’s shoulder and whispered in his ear the reward he’d get for being a good boy. Eric was smiling as the needle broke the skin.
Chapter Eleven
“‘Table’s turned. Attorney gets his in the end.’” Lily read the headline aloud.
Eric’s step faltered as he entered the kitchen.
Dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans, shirtless and barefoot, he looked irresistible. Her eyes lingered on the wide expanse of male chest, the trim waist and slender hips. She felt a familiar flush of heat warm her body.
Yesterday evening, they’d slipped away from the hospital, avoiding the reporters camped out front by using the rear exit. She had brought him home and pampered him with attention. Worried about his well-being, she’d stayed the night in the guest bedroom in case he needed her.
This morning, Eric’s pallor had taken on a healthier cast. The bandage on his arm stood out against his tan skin, bringing memories of the shooting racing through her mind. She remembered what she had almost lost and felt the cold hand of reality grip her heart. She bit her lip to stop the trembling.
A frown creased his brow as he stepped up to where she stood at the kitchen counter.
“For someone who made the front page, you don’t act very happy,” she said, forcing a smile as she handed him the paper.
Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and squinted at the headlines. “Three paragraphs detailing how Fontaine shot my backside with a pellet gun. This type of publicity I don’t need.” He picked up a second paper and pointed to another headline: “Attorney injured while escaping madman with a BB gun.” He groaned. “I’ll never live it down. From now on, I’ll be the butt of all attorney jokes.” He scowled. “No pun intended.”
“Eric, you should be thankful Mr. Fontaine didn’t have a real gun,” Lily said sternly. “If he did, you’d still be in the hospital, not recuperating at home in your own bed.”
He tossed the newspaper onto the counter. His gaze softened as his eyes rested on her lips. “Hmm...going to my bed. Now, that sounds like a good idea.”
A single look from Eric melted away all her good intentions. Despite the battle brewing within her, her body responded to his loving attention. A delicious shiver ran the length of her spine. There was no denying she still wanted him.
His eyes worked their magic downward, taking in the gentle swell of her breasts. Her skin tingled under the brush of his gaze.
She bit back a moan. “Eric, you’re an injured man.”
He grinned. “You’re right—I am. And I think we should test the more vital parts of my anatomy until we’re sure no other damage was done. After all, Lily, today is our wedding day.”
Lily didn’t comment. She needed to keep a clear head. But his presence was overwhelming, muddying her mind with confusion. She turned from his gaze and busied herself with gathering the scattered newspaper. Before she could step away, Eric grabbed her wrist, sending the papers spilling onto the floor. Pulling her against him, he kissed her long and hard.
At first she stiffened in his arms. Being this close to him would only make what she needed to do that much harder. But the more she resisted, the more demanding his kiss became. Lily stopped fighting. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy the solid feel of his body pressed against hers. Her worries and fears dimmed in comparison with the consuming pleasure his lips were creating inside her.
After a moment they broke apart. Lily leaned against him for support, gulping in deep drafts of air. Feeling the reassuring warmth of his bare skin against the palm of her hand, she gave her racing heartbeat time to return to normal.
Eric buried his face in her hair. “You smell good.”
She smiled. “I smell like you. I borrowed your shampoo while you were asleep.”
She’d hated the thought of putting on yesterday’s clothes. Short of going home and changing, taking a shower had helped to make her feel refreshed.
“Sit down,” she said, gathering the strength to push him away. “I’ll make your breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” He raised a brow. “I don’t think I have anything in the house to eat. Unless you’re heating up last night’s pizza.”
“Pizza for breakfast? Yuck,” she said, grimacing. She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. “While you were asleep, I went shopping. I picked up a few things for you at the grocery store.”
She strode to the refrigerator and took out the eggs and milk. Before she could close the door, Eric was behind her, glancing over her shoulder.
He opened the door wide. “Bacon, eggs, juice, butter.” He gave her a puzzled look. “A few things? There’s enough food here to feed an army.”
She shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you were well fed.”
“Well fed?” He grinned. “Lily, we’re getting married today. Food’s the last thing I have on my mind.”
Lily stepped past him, unable to say a word.
He grabbed her shoulder and whirled her around. She almost dropped the milk and eggs on the floor. She grasped them tight in her hands, using them as a buffer against the sudden glint of anger she saw in his eyes.
“We are getting married, aren’t we?” he demanded.
She stared at him mutely. She’d hoped to delay this conversation for as long as possible. She told herself it was because she didn’t want to upset Eric when he wasn’t feeling well. But it was more than that. Nervously she licked her lips, tasting his kiss. She knew Eric wouldn’t take her decision lightly. He would be angry. She wasn’t sure if her resolve was strong enough to face a confrontation.
“Tell me you haven’t changed your mind,” he said, his voice quiet.
“No, not exactly.”
“Not exactly?”
She took a deep breath. “Eric, I think we should postpone the wedding.”
“Just until I’m feeling better, right?” he asked, his gaze wary.
“I’m not sure,” she said hesitantly.
He slammed his fist on the counter. “I knew it. That’s why you bought a truckload of groceries. Why you’ve been acting skittish when I come near you.”
She tried to soothe his rising temper. “Now, Eric—”
“Whenever you start a sentence with ‘Now, Eric’ I know I’m in trouble.”
She felt her resolve slipping. “Maybe we should discuss this when you’re feeling better. When you’re feeling a bit calmer.”
“Uh-uh. Now.” He gave his head a brisk shake. “This has to do with my getting shot at, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it does.” She sighed. “Eric, I nearly died when I found out some nut threatened you with a gun.”
“A harmless BB gun,” he reminded her.
“But it just as easily could have been a real gun.” She shuddered, recalling the horror she had felt when she’d learned of the shooting.
“Lily, I won’t let you blame yourself for this.”
“How can I not? I finally agree to marry you, and you get shot at. That’s too much of a coincidence even for you to explain away.”
He cupped her chin, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. “What happened yesterday could have happened at any time. Marriages are based on passion. Emotions run hot during a divorce. Sometimes they explode. Being a divorce attorney is a hazardous job. That’s a fact, Lily. It has nothing to do with you or your curse.”
“I don’t believe it,” she said simply. “David’s trip wasn’t supposed to end in a crash, either. But it did, and I lost him. I’m not going to count the days waiting until I lose you, too.”
A tiny vein pulsed violently on the side of his neck. “How long a postponement are we talking about? A week? A month?”
“Until after the baby is born. Then if you still want to marry me—”
“No way,” he shouted.
Lily jumped, gripping the milk and eggs tight against her breasts. She’d never seen him so angry. “Eric, listen to me. This doesn’t mean we can’t see each other. I just think it would be better if we let things cool down a bit. Go back to the way it used to be.”
“You mean, when I was just a friend?” he asked with a bitter twist to his lips.
She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know—I guess.”
“Or maybe you want a bit more,” he said, his expression harsh. “Maybe when the mood strikes, I could be an occasional roll in the hay. That should ease your lonely widow’s needs.”
Hazardous Husband Page 14