Above the Fold

by Rachel Scott McDaniel

  She blinked, and the mask of sophistication took hold. “Well, I’m still shocked Mr. Shelby would be unfaithful. What will the community say when they read this tomorrow?”

  “Whoa there.” Cole took the appointment book with his free hand and set it back on the desk. “We’re not printing that. At least not until I get clearance, and even then, I’m still not sure.”

  “What do you mean, ‘clearance’? Have you talked with Father?”

  “No. Sterling. He asked me not to publish anything of that nature for now.”

  Disapproval splashed in her eyes, waving ripples on her forehead.

  “I know it’s a great scoop. The gossip-hungry city-folk will feed on it like vultures, but unless it pertains to the case, I don’t see how tarnishing his reputation will help anything.” Once a reputation had been soiled, the cleansing of it proved impossible. Thankfully, the New York Dispatch had been discreet with Cole’s termination, but if this information about Shelby was leaked, the dead man would be forever associated with scandal, and with no chance to redeem himself.

  Skepticism threaded Elissa’s movements, from the way she tipped her head to the side, to her narrowed eyes. “How did you survive in New York? I’d say the cutthroat journalists there wouldn’t bat an eye to spread vulgar details.”

  “No, they wouldn’t. But believe it or not, I have a heart.” He tapped his chest and drew Elissa’s stare. Was she thinking of yesterday when he’d pulled her hand over his heart? Or a time from earlier days when she’d rest her cheek on his chest in an embrace? If only he had the freedom of pulling her into his arms now. He tightened his grip on the flashlight and pushed the thought aside. They needed out of this place. Not only was being alone with her far too tempting, the danger of being caught inflated with each passing moment. “I know I still have to write a story for tomorrow’s spread, but I think I’ll do a memorial editorial. Maybe call a few of his charities and build his character up before, well ... you know.” Hadn’t Shelby donated to Dr. Sheffield’s charity, funding the new medical center? Cole would check on that first thing in the morning.

  “But shouldn’t he be exposed? Infidelity is beyond wrong. His poor wife, how she must be hurting.”

  “She is.” Mrs. Shelby’s pain-pinched expression had tormented him all day. She’d lost the man she’d loved in several ways, and there was no quick remedy for that kind of anguish. “She needs our prayers.”

  “But why protect the guilty?” The adamancy in Elissa’s tone reflected the fervor in her eyes. “Why shield his integrity when he had no regard for anyone but himself?”

  The implication of her words penetrated his confidence. Did she group Cole in the same pile as Shelby? Someone with no scrap of decency. Cole hadn’t lost the woman he loved to another man. No, he’d been dead to Elissa the moment he’d wronged her. Labeled unforgiveable. “There’s something to be said for mercy.”

  Her eyes widened at the last word.

  “Besides, Mrs. Shelby wishes for the indiscretion to remain hushed. I’m sure the news will get out somehow, but it won’t be from me.” Everything in him stood against the sin of adultery, but would exposing Shelby benefit anyone? Wouldn’t it create more grief? Maybe Cole wasn’t the best authority on this matter. “Don’t you think it’d be hypocritical of me to point the finger at someone else when I’ve made major mistakes as well? Ruined opportunities. Hurt those I love.”

  Her gaze lowered to the floor.

  “Now, let’s get you home.”

  “What?” Her chin whipped up. “I still haven’t found anything useful for—”

  “If I have to pick you up and carry you, I will.” He tried to give her a no-nonsense look, but she crinkled her nose at him. Not a nice crinkle.

  “Oh no you won’t.” She reached over and snatched the flashlight from his hand. “Not if you can’t see me.” With a quiet snicker, she clicked it off.

  The windows were at the front of the building, so where they stood, no moonlight flooded in. She was being playful, and it lightened the tension in his shoulders. He heard a shuffle of feet and reached, briefly touching her hand. “I better not trip and tear this place up. Sterling would have my neck.”

  “Then I insist you do.”

  Cole’s smile widened. “Ah, I know where you are now.” In front of him, and to the left. He soft-footed forward.

  The light smack of her soles signified her retreat, but he caught her by the waist. Her soft laughter riddled the air, and he eased her close. A sharp intake of air replaced her merriment, but she didn’t jerk from his touch, only leaned closer.

  Mercy.

  With her warm body against his, the rapid rise and fall of her chest triggered a longing for the only woman he’d ever held in his arms.

  “Cole?” She said his name on a sigh.

  He slid his eyes shut, inhaling the citrus scent from her hair. “Hmm?”

  A doorknob rattled.

  She stiffened in his embrace. “Who’s that?”

  “Not sure.” He kept his tone low. “We need to get out of here.”

  It rattled again, this time with muffled masculine voices.

  “Don’t turn the flashlight on.” He grabbed her hand. “Stay with me.” His lips brushed her ear, and he hardened himself against the shiver quaking her frame. He needed to stay agile, alert. Guiding her to the closet, he prayed it wasn’t locked. It opened with a soft click, the hinges whispering in the dark. Elissa needed no prompting, for she all but threw herself into the narrow space. He followed her inside, and with a steady hand, closed the door. Perhaps it was Sterling or other policemen making rounds, but Cole couldn’t chance—no, wouldn’t chance—Elissa’s life.

  Elissa struggled to remain silent while an umbrella cane stabbed her side. Whatever hung behind her—a raincoat maybe—made a swooshing sound if she moved. Cole stood in front of her, a shield between her and whoever was on the other side. She placed her palms on his back, steadying herself. His heavy breathing pulsed against her fingertips. If she’d known earlier she’d be hiding with him in a coat closet the size of a matchbox, she would’ve stayed home. Safe.

  A stripe of pale gold shone beneath the door. Whoever it was had turned on the lights.

  “It’s here somewhere.” A gravelly foreign voice became louder with each word.

  Was he standing right in front of the door? Was this man Shelby’s killer? Would these people set fire to this place too? She sucked in a quick breath, and Cole shifted.

  “Search everywhere, but no desk. Boss searched there already.” That voice again. But what accent was it? Russian? German? “Old screwball hid it somewhere tricky.”

  Someone grunted in response.

  She tried to count the number of men by the heavy footsteps. Two? Three? A whole army could be out there for all the noise they made. Cabinets opened. File drawers slammed. Papers rustled. What would happen when their search led them to the closet? Oh Lord, help us.

  “We’re taking too much time.” A new voice sounded. “I don’t want to be here if the cops swing by.”

  “I need to look behind the cabinet. Help me move then search closet.”

  Alarm trembled through her. What could they do?

  Cole angled toward her and grabbed the umbrella cane. “We have to make a break for it,” he whispered. “I’ll distract them, and you run. Go through the door we entered. Can you find it?”

  She trembled. “I’m not leaving you.”

  His hand slid up her arm to her shoulder and finally cupped her face. “You must.”

  And with that, he burst open the door.

  With nothing but a lousy umbrella for a weapon, Cole lunged from the closet ready to swing at anything within range.

  Two men with their backs bent forward as they held onto a pine cabinet gaped at him. The cabinet landed with a thud, and they both bounded toward Cole. He expected a couple of muscle-clad men like Sterling, but they were more like Uncle Wooly and Cousin Clarence. One chubby. One wiry.

  “Who
are you?” The stout man with an accent as thick as his neck shouted his demand.

  Cole crossed the room, turning the men’s backs on the closet, giving Elissa more space for her getaway.

  Chubby grabbed Cole’s shoulder, and Wiry threw a punch. Cole jerked his head, missing the fist, and elbowed Chubby in the gut. He doubled over, blocking Wiry from taking another blow at Cole’s face. In his peripheral vision, he caught a glimpse of Elissa, crawling on her hands and knees.

  Cole swung the umbrella, diverting attention from her, but he smacked it on the desk, breaking the handle in two.

  Super.

  Both men stood yards away, and Wiry held a knife.

  “Now.” Knife-wielder’s lips twitched in a wicked smirk. “We’re going to try this again, and this time you’ll answer. What’s your name?”

  Cole backpedaled until he hit the wall. On one side was the desk. Opposite that was the cabinet the two clowns had abandoned. His blood pulsed in his skull. They wouldn’t take him down without a fight. He clenched his hands and primed to attack.

  “Drop your knife.” Elissa popped up from behind the desk pointing a … oh, she wouldn’t. “Or I’m going to start target practice.”

  Cole would have bent over laughing if the situation weren’t so severe. Both men looked at each other with puzzled expressions.

  Chubby took a step toward her. “Now little miss, put that gun down.”

  “No.” Her thumb pulled back the hammer with a finesse that made Cole cringe.

  Cole stared at her, trying to communicate with his eyes what his mouth couldn’t say. Don’t pull the trigger, Spark.

  The knife clattered to the planked floor.

  “Okay, boys.” Cole kicked the knife toward Elissa and rounded the desk to her. “You have exactly ten seconds to scamper out of here before I call the authorities.”

  Elissa’s tiny gasp revealed her surprise, but she didn’t know the danger hadn’t subsided. The two men didn’t waste time. They sprinted out. Cole shut and locked the door behind them and returned to a perplexed Elissa.

  Her lifted brows plunged, and her mouth frowned. “Why’d you let them go? They could be Shelby’s killers.”

  “Indeed. They could.” His gaze traveled over her, checking for signs of injury. She shivered, but there were no marks of any kind. Another shiver, but this time he wrapped an arm around her. “Spark, you saved the day.” He forced his tone to sound light, but his heartbeat would probably remain spiked clear into the next decade.

  She was either too shocked to realize his arm circled her waist, or she didn’t mind. He prayed it was the latter.

  “But you let them go.” She stared at the door out of which they’d fled.

  “I had to.”

  She stepped out from under his touch. “Why?”

  “Tell me, gorgeous, where’d you get this … pistol?” He pointed to the desktop where she’d placed it. “And while you’re gabbing, would you please tell me why you ignored my instructions to leave?” His wry smile slid into a frown. “Really, Elissa, you could have been hurt.”

  Her lashes lowered. “I said I couldn’t leave you.”

  Man, if only he could kiss her until her perfectly placed lipstick disappeared. He held out his hand, and to his delight, she took it. “You found this gun in Shelby’s desk, didn’t you?”

  She smiled. “I was looking for anything useful. At first, I would’ve settled for a paperweight I could launch, but I landed a gold mine instead.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Watch. It’ll explain why I had to let those bozos go.” He picked up her weapon of choice and pointed it at the filing cabinet.

  Elissa shrieked. “Cole, what are you—”

  He pulled the trigger and smiled when a small flame flickered out the barrel.

  Elissa slapped a hand over her heart, eyes wild. “You mean, I held up those two men with a cigarette lighter?”

  “Sure did. One of Shelby’s creations he used to let me fiddle with.”

  “I didn’t—” The words dissolved into laughter. Her shoulders shook, and the lock of hair he’d loosened earlier danced along.

  The melody of her merriment absorbed into Cole’s soul. Her eyes shone brighter than the blue flame from the lighter, and it was just as hot. Hotter.

  He moved closer. Drawn by an invisible pull.

  The laughter faded, but a grin stretched across her face. Beautiful.

  Cole spoke first, unable to shift his gaze from her. “I’ve missed that.”

  “So have I.” She didn’t draw back at his nearness, but inched closer, angling her face toward him.

  If he dipped his chin four, maybe five inches, his lips could claim hers. Should he? Would this be considered impulsive, even though he’d been longing for this moment since the day he’d recognized his mistake? Before any more contemplation, she lifted on her toes and kissed him.

  CHAPTER 14

  Her first thought? That she shouldn’t be doing this. Her second? That he was still a really good kisser.

  Cole wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close. She slid her eyes shut and slipped into the tender, remembered rhythm. The way he tilted his head to the right so she didn’t have to strain on her tiptoes. The way he broadened his chest so she could lean against him when her breath turned shaky and her knees threatened to cave. All familiarities from past kisses, yet something struck her as different.

  She couldn’t tug the words from the sensation, but she could feel his desperation. He tightened his grip as if he never intended to let go. The pounding of his heart beat a thunderous cadence against her palms. She sighed against his lips, and the feeble attempt to regain her emotional control vanished as his fingertips trailed up her spine and threaded into her hair.

  The force of attraction hadn’t become stale in five years but had only intensified, with a fierceness quivering every cell. A dizziness waved through her. She shuffled her foot to regain balance and stepped on Cole’s toes. She gasped and reeled back, her elbow knocking a glass frame off the desk, onto the floor.

  Shattered.

  Evidence of her faults ridiculed her in the image of fragmented remains across the planks.

  “Elissa?” He stared at her, his husky voice reminding her of the kiss she’d started and the embarrassment flooding through her.

  “I can’t do this.” Her voice shook. Away. She needed away from this place. From him.

  Cole reached for her, but she took another step back. Her sanity depended on not letting him close. She glanced at the broken glass, picturing her heart amongst the rubble. She couldn’t allow him to break it again. “I can’t …”

  “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Cole stooped and lowered his head, his hat obscuring the view of his face. “This was mine.” He brushed away specks of glass from the rim of the picture and fastened his gaze on her.

  She cringed, unsure if her response was due to the truth that Cole could’ve cut himself or because his eyes pierced hers. And her heart.

  “See?” He held up what remained of the frame. “Mr. Shelby kept my test all these years. I was going to take it home today, but when the whole ordeal with Mrs. Shelby happened, I forgot.” He shrugged and then smiled. “No harm done.”

  Oh, there was plenty harm done. This was why she couldn’t be near Cole. It’d taken years to confine the clumsy, awkward Elissa—the foolish girl whom Cole had obviously despised. She’d determined she wouldn’t go back again. Cole had been the only one who’d seen her for who she really was, and he’d abandoned her for it. She hadn’t been good enough. Never could be. “One week. How pathetic.”

  He picked some larger shards of glass off the floor and tossed them into the wastebasket. “What is?”

  “I’ve resisted Adam’s advances for years. Then I’m with you, no, not with you, but around you for one week. Not even a week, six days, and I find myself …”

  Cole straightened.

  She couldn’t finish for the sake of drawing attention to their heated moment. “Let me say
that if you intend on—why are you smiling?” Because no humor could be found in this. But then again, he had a record of taking the matters of her heart lightly.

  “Why wouldn’t I smile?” His grin spread infuriatingly wider. “You just told me you’re not attracted to Adam, but you are to me.”

  She gasped. “I did not.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, you did. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m attracted to you.” His expression turned serious, and she couldn’t breathe. “Very much so.”

  Her mind flicked back to earlier, when he’d been more heroic than anything she’d seen on the silver screen. Jumping into the arms of danger, creating a distraction, all so she could escape. To keep her safe. The man didn’t make sense. Though right now, she didn’t either because she found herself wanting to draw near him again. Fixing her stare on the rubble of glass pooled between them, she could laugh, or bawl, at the significance—the major thing that separated them was brokenness. “I’m a fool.”

  He stepped over the mess, only a touch away. “It was an accident.”

  “No. It was a reminder.” Proof that she couldn’t open up to Cole Parker without slipping back into the girl he’d left. All those years since had been a lost endeavor. A front. She hadn’t changed at all. Turning toward the door, she fought against a rising sob. “I’m ready to go home.”

  Cole barred his arms over his chest and met his cousin’s glare. “Do you want the jail-free version or the truth?”

  “There’s a difference?” Sterling lifted his brows.

  Cole sank onto Sterling’s sofa, his hand brushing something way too frilly to be in a man’s apartment. “Is this lace?” He flicked the edge of a pillow.

  Sterling groaned. “Sophie insisted. Said I needed to get accustomed to living in a place that holds a feminine touch.”

  For a war hero who’d gunned down the enemy, Sterling surrendered far too easily to his red-headed charmer. Cole grimaced. He’d never gotten an opportunity to be a hero of any kind. The draft board had dismissed him due to his arch-less feet, and tonight, Elissa had rejected him for a reason he’d yet to discover.