JAKrentz - Uneasy Alliance (23 page)

"Oh, my God, Torr." She realized she was trembling, shaking as if she had a fever. "Oh, Torr."

He swung around then, apparently satisfied that the man on the floor wasn't going to move. Torr's amber eyes flared at her as savagely as had Flynn's. But although she was wary of this brand of savagery, Abby knew she didn't fear it in Torr. He was in control. There was a rational, if angry, intelligence governing his actions and she saw the difference between the two men as clearly as she could see the difference between night and day.

"How did he get in?" was all Torr asked, his voice tight and hard.

"I…" Abby licked her dry lips and tried again. "I thought he was the delivery man. I thought he was bringing another load of vitamins." Her voice sounded painfully weak, even to her own ears.

There was a deadly pause while Torr assimilated the vague excuse. "Are you all right?"

Startled not to be confronted with a severe lecture about having opened the door, Abby nodded mutely.

"Then call the police."

"Yes, Torr."

She was dialing the phone when Flynn groaned from his position on the floor and opened his eyes. Torr leaned over him.

"Move and I'll break your neck." The words were said with such dangerous calm that they penetrated even Flynn's dazed state. He looked up at Torr and then his furiously frustrated gaze sought out Abby.

"She should have been mine. I should have made her mine when I had the chance." Flynn groaned, his hand going to his bleeding scalp.

"He's not all there, Torr. He's sick." Abby spoke quietly as she waited for an answer on the other end of the line.

Torr glanced from the man at his feet to her anxious face. "I can see that. But sick or not, if he ever tries to go near you again, I'll kill him." He went down on his haunches beside the fallen man and stared into his stricken eyes. "Do you understand that, Randolph?"

"She's mine," Flynn hissed.

"No," Torr said evenly. "She belongs to me because she's given herself to me. Listen to me, Randolph, I will protect what is mine. If you ever go near her again, I'll kill you. Killing you would be easy for me. I've already killed in the past, remember?"

Flynn's eyes widened in comprehension. "Your wife. You killed your wife. I read about it in the newspaper. I remembered hearing about it at the time it happened. I never forgot that story. Never forgot it. Women can't be trusted." He sounded disoriented, his words vague and rambling as if he couldn't clear his thoughts. "A man can't trust them."

Torr reached down and put his fingers with awful care around Flynn's throat. "I trust Abby. I will trust her always. Nothing could destroy that trust. So if I find you near her again I will know that it wasn't because of anything Abby did. I will blame you entirely. Remember that, Randolph. I will blame you. And I will kill you."

Abby sat transfixed by the telephone, awed by the calm even violence in Torr's words. She felt the menace in him as if it were a tangible force, and it was becoming clear from the hypnotized expression in Flynn's eyes that he too felt the danger.

"You'll kill me," Flynn repeated dully.

"Yes."

He shook his head as if trying to clear away some of the pain and disorientation. "I won't come near her again. She's yours now."

"For the rest of her life," Torr said flatly.

"I won't hurt her. I won't go near her," Flynn promised as if he were a child. "Yours."

"Torr!"

Torr ignored Abby's husky interruption, focusing on Randolph as the man slipped into unconsciousness. Only when it was evident that Flynn was unable to hear him did he glance at Abby.

"Finish the call, Abby."

Obediently she did as she was told, her eyes never leaving Torr's grimly set face. When she finally set down the phone she was still struggling to find the right words. The flaring threat in his eyes was fading now and she took a deep breath.

"Why on earth did you enact that little scene with Flynn?" she whispered.

"A little basic psychology," Torr sighed, getting to his feet. "I want him afraid of me. Just in case the prison system in this country doesn't function properly. I want it impressed on his sick mind that coming near you means coming to his own death."

"More of your criminal psychology?" she demanded, watching as he bent down to pick up the flowers that had been scattered on the carpet. He handled each with a heart-stoppingly familiar care.

"I suppose so." He straightened, turning to face her with a bunch of flowers in his hand. "Abby?"

She saw the uncertainty in him and flew across the room and into his arms. "Of course I haven't changed my mind." Face buried against his shirt, she held him tightly around the waist. "I know perfectly well you didn't kill your wife."

"Abby, I could kill Randolph if I had to," Torr said carefully.

"I know."

"Does that frighten you?"

"No," she said simply. "You will do whatever is necessary in order to protect me."

"You sound as if you understand."

"I should." She lifted her face, her eyes glistening with tears of relief and love. "After all, I'd do whatever I had to do in order to protect you."

She felt him relax with a stifled groan as he tightened his arms around her. Any man was capable of violence under certain circumstances. So was any woman. Abby understood that now. But she would never fear Torr. The only kind of violence she would ever witness in him would be aimed at what threatened her. He would protect her but she would never be in real danger from him.

Perhaps she had subconsciously known that the first time she had seen him construct his serene, controlled masterpieces of floral design.

They held each other in gentle silence until the police arrived.

A
long time later
, after a talk with the police, a shower and a glass of wine, Abby sat in her bathrobe, her feet curled under her, regally prepared to listen to Torr's lecture. She could allow him to let off a little steam now that the disaster was all over. And she knew that as the situation had returned to normal so had Torr's temperament.

From across the room Torr watched her compose herself. One dark brow lifted quellingly. "I have a right to be a little upset, you know."

"Yes, Torr."

"I told you not to open that door to anyone, didn't I?"

"Yes, Torr."

"Are you going to sit there and say, 'yes, Torr' during this entire scene?"

"Yes, Torr."

"I ought to turn you over my knee," he groaned. There was a taut silence following that remark. "Aren't you going to say 'yes, Torr'?" he challenged silkily.

"I don't think so. Not to that particular remark."

"Abby, couldn't you follow one single little order?" he shot back roughly. "It was a simple enough set of instructions! But you couldn't do it, could you? Oh, no. You have to blithely throw open the door to the first guy who knocks. If you'd done as I told you, none of this would have happened."

"I realize that, Torr."

"Don't give me that meek little act," he rasped, beginning to pace up and down in front of her like an annoyed panther.

"Yes, Torr."

"This isn't a joke." He swung around, glowering at her.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. I just didn't think. He said he was the delivery service and I get so many deliveries I didn't stop to question it." Abby licked her lower lip and watched the man in front of her. Knowing that she didn't need to fear him on a physical level in no way reassured Abby right at the moment. Torr Latimer had a temper, even if he was in control of it.

"That's your whole problem, Abby Lyndon. You don't think things through, you just act. You're a creature of impulse. You let your lack of self-discipline lead you into all sorts of dangerous situations. If some man doesn't take charge of you, you're going to find yourself in quicksand one of these days."

"You don't have to yell at me as if I were a stupid little child." She felt obliged to defend herself.

"I know full well you're no child," he exploded. "That's the whole problem. You're a woman and you need a man to keep you out of mischief. It's becoming obvious that your lack of foresight and restraint are going to land you in trouble."

"That's hardly fair, Torr," she protested indignantly. "I've survived up till now."

"Barely!"

"You're overstating the problem," she returned aloofly.

"It would be impossible to overstate the problem. I knew from the first moment I saw you in class that you had a nasty tendency to follow your undisciplined impulses."

"You used to think it was a cute habit, not a nasty one," she reminded him. "I believe you called me adventurous."

"Don't think you're going to get out of this by distracting me."

"Nothing could distract you, Torr," she grumbled. "I may be undisciplined, impulsive and reckless but you're just the opposite, aren't you? It's amazing you can even tolerate me."

"And don't think you're going to escape by pulling that pathetic little scatterbrained routine," he warned.

"Escape what?" she inquired interestedly. "Are you going to beat me?"

"Don't tempt me."

"It might be interesting to see you do something rash and impulsive," she mused.

Torr's lashes came down, narrowing his amber gaze rather dangerously. "Abby, at the moment you are skating on very thin ice. The only reason I'm not whaling the daylights out of you right now is because you've already been through enough violence for one evening."

"That," she declared easily, "was quite different." She took a sip of wine as Torr stared at her. Then she smiled gently. "You don't have to worry that I'd ever confuse your temper with Flynn's sick viciousness."

Torr inhaled deliberately, his hands on his hips. "How is it," he asked grimly, "that you know instinctively how to disarm me?"

"Have I disarmed you, Torr?" she whispered, eyes gleaming with the warmth of her emotions. She loved this man, even when he was yelling at her. She would always love him.

"You're a dangerous woman, Abby Lyndon. Somehow I've got to discover a way to get the upper hand in this relationship or I'll find myself riding the tiger," he groaned just as the telephone rang. As if he was grateful for the interruption, Torr grabbed up the receiver.

"Hello? Oh, it's you, Tyson. Abby and I were going to call you later. After I finish tearing a strip off her, that is. Mad? You're right, I'm mad. Not that it's doing me much good. The woman is a menace. She ought to be chained to the kitchen sink on a leash that's just long enough to reach to the bedroom. I plan to invest in some sturdy chains. What? Yes, I figure you probably had a reason for calling. Who goes first?"

Abby sipped her wine and pretended to ignore Torr's glare as he stood listening to Ward.

"When did you find out? That's just what we were going to call and tell you. Randolph showed up here around six o'clock. I wasn't in the apartment at the time and Abby had strict instruction not to open the door." There was a pause and then Torr went on gruffly, "How did you guess? She opened it all right and found herself fighting him off. The man's over the edge, Tyson. Nuttier than a fruitcake but a lot more dangerous. I think seeing Abby face-to-face again and finding out she wasn't going to let him have his revenge finally pushed him over the brink. He's in custody down at the psychiatric ward in the hospital. Police took him away a couple of hours ago and booked him for assault, among other things. Oh, Abby? She's okay. By the skin of her teeth. When I walked in she was in the process of cracking a flower bowl over Randolph's head. But that's typical of Abby. Never could resist messing up a perfectly satisfactory flower arrangement."

Abby sniffed disdainfully as Torr paused to listen again. He sent her a silencing glance.

"Right," he continued a moment later into the phone. "He was the one behind the blackmail. He's also the one trying to buy up those shares. That's what he was going to blackmail Abby for, by the way. Oh, I see." Torr nodded, frowning thoughtfully. "Right. That's that, then. What? Of course, I'm going to marry her. What else can I do? I was trying to give her some time. Trying to respect her sensitive, fragile, delicate female feelings and not rush her, but I can see that it's only inviting disaster to wait. The woman needs a husband to keep her in line and I wouldn't want to wish the job on anybody else. So her sensitive, delicate, fragile female feelings are just going to have to adjust to the situation a little sooner than planned, that's all. Besides, any woman who's capable of cracking a bowl over a man's head obviously can take care of her fragile feelings. Fine. I'll talk to you later. Good night, Tyson."

Torr hung up the phone and glowered at Abby who was staring at him with all the wonder and hope she was feeling reflected in her blue eyes. "Ward just found out from the investigator that Randolph was the one who approached the relatives about buying up their shares. The investigator suggested a link between that action and the threat against you when he found out you owned a sizable chunk of those shares. Too bad that high-priced investigator didn't come up with that conclusion this morning instead of this afternoon. Could have saved us all a lot of trouble."