When she hesitated, Clark ordered between gritted teeth, “Do it. Please.”
Jaw clenched, realizing it was pointless to argue with Clark in his current state of mind, Katherine conceded, “Okay.”
Right now, she’d humor him. But the second his grip eased, she’d be on her feet and to the phone. She wasn’t going to sit back and watch him bleed to death because of some crazy idea of his.
Clark nodded in obvious relief and closed his eyes, the pallid cast to his skin seeming somehow worse than seconds before.
On her knees, she inched to the side of Clark as he leaned forward. More blood stained the back of his shirt. Katherine cringed, while tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked and refocused. Doggedly, she examined the damp shirt until she found a small spot of frayed fabric.
“The bullet went through.” Glancing a couple of inches to the right of the exit wound, she found a second one. Katherine sank down hard on her heels. She was not going to flip out. Maybe later when she had the time to take in the horror of everything around her. “You were hit twice. But both bullets went through.”
“I guess—that’s why I feel so—light-headed.”
Katherine wasn’t fooled by his smile or weak attempt at humor. Clark didn’t look any better, and time was running out. Glancing around the living room, she didn’t see a phone. She peered down the hall. The layout looked similar to her own place. Bedrooms to the left and kitchen down the hall and to the right.
“I’m going to get a wet towel and some antiseptic. But you need to let me go. Okay, Clark?”
“Fine.” He released her wrist. “But first make sure the front door is locked and the blinds are closed in the living room.”
Katherine rose and did as he asked. Then she retreated down the hall and glanced over her shoulder. Clark, eyes closed, deathly still, hadn’t moved from his spot by the wall. Assured Clark wouldn’t notice, Katherine didn’t turn left toward the bathroom but veered to the right and hurried into the kitchen.
She paused in the doorway and frantically hunted around for a phone in the darkened room. She didn’t dare turn on the light and alert Clark. Ghostly moonlight speared through the open blinds, illuminating a phone on the counter by the dishwasher.
Easing the headset from its cradle, Katherine pressed her lips together to stifle the sound of her labored breathing. She moved the keypad beneath the moon’s rays and punched in nine.
Suddenly, the kitchen light flooded the room. A flash of movement, a blur of color. Clark, all muscle and formidable power, stood at her elbow, towering over her, crowding in on her.
At his appearance, so silent, so unexpected, so darn abrupt, Katherine cried out and jerked back, bumping a hip against the counter and dropping the phone. The receiver clattered to the floor and cracked open. The battery panel flew off and hit a bottom cabinet.
Clark yanked the phone line from the wall, staggered and latched onto the counter with his other hand.
“Stop it, Clark! You’re scaring me.”
“Sorry, but I’m not going to a hospital. By the time I get there, I’ll be fine. Or close enough. And I’m sure as hell not going to let some doctor poke and prod at me as if I were a lab rat.”
Katherine edged back along the counter. “You’re not making sense.”
“Maybe this’ll make sense.”
He pulled at the front of his shirt. Buttons broke loose and scattered across the floor. He tossed the bloody shirt on the counter and grabbed a kitchen towel draped over the handle of the stove’s door and wet it down. The glare of the kitchen light thrust everything into painful detail. More blood. It coated his chest, his stomach, his back. Everywhere.
Lifting a hand to her throat, Katherine smothered down her cry of alarm and backed up until she hit the refrigerator. She watched Clark brush the towel across his skin, staining his fingers and turning the once pale green towel to an ugly red. Finished, Clark tossed the towel on top of his ruined shirt, leaving several stubborn patches of blood smeared across his flesh.
“Does it look like I’m bleeding to death?”
She stared at his taut stomach and muscled chest. Only a few droplets of blood oozed from two small flesh wounds. Somehow she’d expected large, raw and angry lacerations. His injuries seemed days old—not minutes. Which was impossible.
Mesmerized by the strange phenomena, Katherine edged closer.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Clark murmured, his voice sounding steadier, his face regaining color.
“That can’t be. I know what I saw. You were bleeding to death. Any normal person would either be dead or close to it.”
“But then I’m not normal, am I?”
She met his sober gray eyes and realized he’d lost his glasses. The thick frames had masked his beautiful eyes. Clear, gray, rimmed with thick, dark lashes, they stared down at her with such incredible sadness. Sadder still, Katherine didn’t have the ability to erase the expression from his eyes.
“This has something to do with your powers, doesn’t it?” she asked. “Your body can heal on its own without drugs or surgery?”
“Yeah. I found out about it by accident. Same as with everything else.”
“That’s amazing. But what about your glasses? I’d think you wouldn’t need them then.”
“I don’t. I came to with them on. I don’t know why. They’re clear glass. Maybe it was some form of disguise. Hell. Your guess’s as good as mine. But it doesn’t matter now.”
“Why?”
“I stepped on them in my hurry to get into the house.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Shrugging a shoulder, he gestured to his stomach. “It’s the least of my problems.”
Curious, she lifted a hand but paused. “May I?”
“Sure.”
As she grazed a finger along the edge of one of his wounds, Clark’s flesh quivered beneath her touch. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“No.”
She stared at the two wounds in wonder. Then she gasped. No. Impossible. For a moment she thought she’d imagined it. But no. Slowly, ever so slowly, the flesh around the fissures meshed, inching closed with each passing second.
Wide eyed, she glanced back up at Clark.
He frowned. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’ve grown two heads.” He was clearly upset. “I’m the same person I was an hour ago.”
“I know that.”
But she couldn’t help looking at him in yet another light. Clark consisted of so many facets. She’d never come across a man like him and knew she never would again. Such shocking power—muscles, vision, and hearing—all enhanced to super-human proportions. But what awed Katherine more than anything was Clark’s refusal to be seduced by that power or waver from his beliefs. He didn’t abuse his abilities or use it for personal gain. Clark had ethics, morals. He’d saved that woman in the car, given money to the shelter without any ulterior motive.
Clark’s eyes sharpened. “Now you’re looking at me as if I’m some damn hero.”
“Most superheroes are immune to injury, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but—”
“What? You have many of the same characteristics as a stereotypical superhero. But the major difference between the two of you is that you’re real.”
“I’m not a superhero. I’m not any type of hero. I’m just a regular man with—”
“But you’re not a regular man. Don’t lie to yourself or me. No matter how hard you want to try, you can’t get away from who you are, Clark.”
“You don’t understand. I still have needs like any other man. I still get hungry, tired—I still have urges—”
Without warning, Clark seized her elbows and pulled her against his chest. He caught her mouth, molding his lips over her own, urging her mouth apart, demanding a response.
Katherine stiffened and caught at his shoulders with both hands. Mind-numbing desire hurtled through her body. She sank into his embrace
and closed her eyes, kissing him back, using her lips, her tongue with equal fervor. His hands burned into her skin, while his mouth, urgent, unrelenting, took what she willingly gave him.
And Katherine could do no less. One touch from Clark and she forgot everything but the feel and the taste of him. And the need. Oh, how it twisted her insides and shattered her thoughts, leaving only the hunger.
Just as suddenly, Clark broke away. He stared down at her with eyes stormy with desire, and something else. Something equally intense but impossible to read. “Sorry. Getting shot isn’t an excuse to jump on you like that.”
Dropping her hands to her sides, Katherine stepped back on wobbly legs. Clark’s abrupt withdrawal caught her off guard and left her feeling uncertain and self-conscious, though she struggled to hide both as she pulled her muddled thoughts in line.
Clearing her throat, Katherine also struggled for some sane response, but then again, nothing about their situation was sane.
Clark rubbed at his face, sighed and leaned a hip against the kitchen counter. When he pulled his hand away, Katherine realized whatever color he’d regained had vanished.
“Are you all right?”
Clark gave her a pained smile. “I’ll be fine in a minute. I’m probably dehydrated.”
He walked over to the refrigerator. Opening the door, he pulled a pitcher of water from inside and dropped it immediately. The plastic container bounced against the linoleum and sprayed water against his jeans and the bottom counters. Clark stumbled and slammed the refrigerator door with the back of a shoulder.
Katherine slipped on the water but caught Clark’s elbow. She shouldered his weight until he leaned hard against the door.
He grimaced. Using both hands, he shoved back his hair, exposing a hairline damp from sweat. “I guess I’m not as infallible as I thought.”
“Well, you’re running around like nothing happened. Even with your body’s abilities, it’s been put under terrible stress.” She grabbed a fresh gallon of water from the pantry. After finding a glass and filling it with water, she handed it to him. “You need to lie down and rest.”
While still leaning against the refrigerator door, he downed his water, handed Katherine his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m glad to see we finally agree on something.” Then the reality of the situation hit her. They’d both come so close to dying tonight. “We need to call the police.”
Clark’s face turned cold. “I can’t do that.”
Chapter 23
“What do you mean you can’t do that?” Katherine asked in disbelief. “We’ve got to call the police. Someone just tried to kill you!”
“And what proof do we have? Yeah, there’re probably a couple of bullet slugs somewhere, but that’s about it. Do you seriously think the police are going to swallow my story? “Oh, yes, Mr. Police Officer. Someone shot me, but you can’t see the wounds because my body healed itself. Right. After they have a good laugh at our expense, they’ll threaten to lock me up if I continue bothering them with the same asinine story. That or send me off to the nearest mental institute.”
Katherine hated to admit he was right. “There’s evidence of something going on between my mother’s campaign funds and Miltronics.”
“But are you willing to have your mother investigated when we don’t know why the hell there’s that connection between the two?” He searched her face, his voice growing husky. “Once you do that, there’s no turning back. You need to think about that.”
Katherine groaned in frustration. “I don’t know! But something’s got to be done.”
“You’re right. But not the police. Not yet.”
Clark rubbed his forearm across his brow. Weariness and self-disgust washed across the taut lines of his face. He opened his mouth then shut it as he leaned a hand against the refrigerator door.
Katherine stiffened. “There’s something else you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” The look he gave her made her tense even further. “Don’t you dare keep something from me.”
“The less you know—the better off you’ll be.”
“Don’t give me that. I need to know. I’m too deeply involved, and you know it.”
“Fine! It’s obvious you’re going to keep at it.” A nerve pulsed alongside his jaw. “I don’t know what side I’m on—the good or the bad. My memory only goes back to the accident in Arizona. From there, I woke up behind the wheel of a wrecked car to find a teenage boy in the passenger seat with a bullet hole in his head—obviously murdered. Then I hear sirens, and what can I say—I panicked. I took off. But not before I grabbed something I found in the back seat of the car...”
He swallowed and briefly closed his eyes.
“What was it?”
“A duffle bag. Inside was a gun and over a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Do you know why they were there?” When he shook his head, she ignored the wild knock of her heart against her ribs and reasoned, “There’s got to be some rational answer—”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve got an answer.” His eyes darkened. “I was paid off to murder someone.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Is it? Your uncle might have hired me to kill those kids at the shelter and the one in the car. And somehow, I double-crossed him.”
She didn’t turn away from the intensity in his stormy eyes but straightened and lifted her chin. “I thought we went over this before. You’re not that type of person. I might be unsure of many things in my life, but that’s one I’m not. You’re not a killer. It’s not in you. Call it gut. Call it instinct. I just know.”
His sigh vibrated through his large frame. “I hope to hell you’re right.”
Clark stepped away from the fridge. Pain cut across his face, and he latched onto the door handle with one hand. Alarmed, Katherine quickly eased his arm around her shoulders. He didn’t object, which told her all she needed to know—he felt far worse than he pretended.
They made it to his bedroom without either one of them falling flat on their face. She knew Clark had tried to hold his own, but by the time he eased down on the edge of his bed, her shoulders ached from taking the brunt of his weight.
She rolled her neck back and forth to relieve the tension and walked over to the side of the bedroom window. “I wonder if the gunman is still out there.”
“Damn it! Get away from the window.”
Katherine glanced over at Clark and found him rising unsteadily to his feet. “Okay! Okay! Just sit back down.”
She closed the blinds but managed to get a quick look outside. Nothing unusual. No one lurking in the parking lot or street. Somewhat relieved, she stepped away from the window in time to see Clark wince as he sat back down on the bed.
“Are you in much pain?”
He laughed and winced again. “Let’s just say it doesn’t tickle.”
“Do you want some aspirin?” Katherine asked, and then groaned. Talk about an idiotic question. Like a couple of pills were going to help him. My goodness. Maybe she should ask if he needed a bandage while she was at it.
“More water would be great.”
At least Clark had the tact to ignore her runaway mouth. “Sure. I’ll get you a glass.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Just promise not to drop it.”
She reluctantly smiled back. “I promise.”
Katherine hurried into the kitchen, side-stepped the mess on the floor, which she’d clean later, and poured Clark another glass of water. When she walked back into Clark’s room, he’d disappeared. Then she heard the shower running from the adjoining bathroom, and realized he’d managed to get himself in there on his own. She looked around for a place to set the glass down on but couldn’t find a table.
“Katherine! Are you there? Can you get me a couple of fresh towels in the linen cabinet in the hall?”
“Ah, sure!”
With the glass of water still in her hand, she found several tow
els in the hall closet. She grabbed two of the thickest and paused at the entrance to the bathroom, feeling decidedly uncomfortable knowing Clark was in there completely naked.
Okay. So he was naked. No big deal. She’d seen him naked before.
“Right,” she muttered.
That was the problem.
Straightening her shoulders, Katherine walked inside. The first thing she noticed was the shower curtain. Even though moisture clung to the clear plastic and turned the curtain into an opaque screen, she saw Clark’s form and movements through the plastic.
With both hands raised, rinsing his hair beneath the shower, he stood with his back toward her. While staring at the outline of his wide, muscled shoulders, narrow hips, and long, lean legs, all completely symmetric and completely unnerving, Katherine blindly placed the glass of water on the counter. When he turned, Katherine didn’t have the willpower to look away from his profile, the tight line of his buttocks, the flat line of his stomach and... She swallowed. The sudden warmth flooding her face had nothing to do with the room’s moist heat, but everything to do with seeing Clark’s naked body and all the memories it generated.
My goodness. How could she forget? The touch, the taste, the feel of him deep inside her, so thick, so hard, so smooth... The way he’d moved.
She’d thought sex with Clark had been incredible because she’d been celibate for so long, but now, seeing Clark and remembering every second, every caress, Katherine recognized the stupidity of such an idea. The need inside of her still gripped her, stronger than ever. All because of this strange and complex man.
Clark didn’t kill anyone. She’d stake her life on it. He was far too gentle and compassionate to turn against another in cold-blooded violence.
Clark snapped off the shower and jerked back the curtain.
Katherine bunched the towels between her hands. He pushed back his wet hair with one hand but paused as he caught her gaze. A thick wave of silence wrapped around the room. She looked down. She couldn’t help it. It was that darn female curiosity.
Duplicity--A Tale of Murder, Mystery and Romance Page 18