One Week To Live (30 page)

“He’s critical, but they think he might.”

“You should have let him die,” she mumbled.

“We couldn’t do that, ma’am.” He looked at Brian. “I can’t believe he tried to kill Ms. Martin. I didn’t expect that. We were frat brothers, good friends once.”

“Outward appearances can be deceptive,” Brian said. “After all your years in law enforcement, you should know that. Sometimes the person you least expect is capable of the most horrendous acts of violence. Look at Tucker.”

“You’re right.” Dunning glanced at Angie who studied the drying blood smudge at the edge of the pool. “Take her home, Brian. Give her a good stiff drink and tuck her in bed. This has been one hell of a day.”

He gently guided her up the stairs and into her apartment. Once inside, he found a bottle of Scotch in the kitchen and poured them both a shot. He then took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. She sank onto the edge of the bed. Giving her a glass, he ordered her to drink it. She downed the shot in one gulp.

“Gees,” she said, coughing and wrinkling her nose. “That was horrible.”

He chuckled. He was thankful she was alive. “I found it in your cupboard.”

“It’s not mine. It’s Rita’s.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” he said, smiling. She looked wiped out. After all she’d been through, that was understandable. “You must be exhausted.”

“No more than you.”

He cupped her face between his hands. “You saved my life, sweet one. How did you remain so calm with his gun pointed at your head?”

“Outward appearances can be deceiving. Inside I quaked like a bowl of jelly,” she said, a faint smile playing across her lips.

“How did you know how to attempt to disarm him like that?”

“When I walked out on him, I feared retribution. I took self-defense classes, hoping I’d never need to use the lessons learned.”

He brushed his lips across hers. “You were very brave.”

“From my class I knew spiked heels worked best. When he gave me these clothes, he didn’t provide shoes. His mistake.” She smiled. “I grabbed them from my closet on our way out.”

“My dear Angie.” He enfolded her in an embrace, ignoring the slight pain shooting through his arm.

“I saw you flinch. You’re in pain.”

“It’s nothing, a scratch. The EMT said I might be sore for a while. He offered me a sling to keep my arm immobilized, but I refused it.

She shook her head. “You took a bullet for me.”

“And I’d do it again. I love you,” he murmured, taking her lips in a long, lingering kiss, savoring the sweetness of their warmth.

“And I love you,” she said, returning his kiss with a long lingering one of her own.

“Twice in the last twenty-four hours we nearly lost each other. I’m never leaving you again,” he whispered, nibbling on her bottom lip and trailing kisses down her neck. “You know what I want to do right now?”

“I think so,” she sighed, reaching for the hem of his T-shirt.

“Take a shower. Wash away all we’ve been through.”

“That does sound good. However, my recent memories of a shower aren’t fond ones,” she said. “That’s where my ex cornered me.”

The thought of that man seeing Angie naked infuriated him, but he pushed those thoughts from his mind. Jealousy served no purpose. “Let’s get naked and wet and make some good memories.” He looked at his bandaged arm. “There’s one thing I have to do first.”

Dashing from the bedroom, he went to the kitchen and madly searched for a plastic bag and tape to protect his bandaged arm. Hearing the shower water running, he smiled. The smile broadened when he entered the bathroom and discovered her naked in the middle of the floor clutching her clothes in her hand.

She stared at his arm.

He grinned. “They told me not to get the bandage wet.”

“Should you even be taking a shower?”

“Yes, but what about you?” he asked, studying the bandage on her head.”

“Hair washing is out, but that doesn’t mean the rest of my body can’t get wet.” Continuing to stare at the bag on his arm, she started to giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

“It looks like a water wing. The kind babies wear to keep from drowning.”

He stared at the bag and tape. “I did the best I could with things available.”

She rummaged through the medicine cabinet until she found adhesive tape. While better securing the bag, her naked body brushed against him. All thoughts of his injured arm vanished.

She shoved her designer clothes into the trash basket. “I’d love to set fire to them, but I don’t think the fire department would approve.”

He stripped the rest of his clothes off, shoved the shower curtain back, stepped in and offered her his hand. With the water and soap streaming down, he bathed her, enjoying every curve of her beautiful body. When his hands moved over her wet breasts, she moaned. He suckled each moist nipple and her moans increased. Turning his attention to her bruised hands and knees, he gently washed them. Bending to kiss the injured parts, his hands slowly trailed down her inner thighs. When he stroked her sensitive core, she began to quake, her hands digging into his shoulders. Increasing the strokes, she screamed out his name as a shattering orgasm rocked her.

She clung tightly to him for a minute before beginning her own exploration of his body. She glided her hands across his chest and the skin around his injured arm. When her hands moved lower, he sucked in a breath. Her gentle touch brought him to the edge. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Taking her hands, he kissed them.

“I want you,” he murmured. The desire filling her brown eyes nearly undid him. He shut the water off and grabbed a towel. He patted her soft skin dry and quickly toweled himself off. Stepping from the shower, he helped her out and guided her to the bedroom.

Lying on the bed, she held out her arms and pulled him to her. “And I want you.”

Taking her in a long, hungry kiss, he entered her. Her moan matched his as he plunged deeper into her hot wetness. Something he feared he’d never he’d be able to do again. He wanted to move slowly, savor this moment, but he couldn’t. He’d heard danger heightened passion. All the pent-up emotion of the past twenty-four hours was released in his driving need to claim her. Gasping, she matched every thrust of his with one of hers. Each of them needed to reaffirm the life they’d almost lost.

When the climax came, it rocked him to his core. With single clarity he now saw how precious life was and how special his love for this woman was. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. She clung to him, her body shaking with sobs.

“Angie, honey, what’s wrong?”

“I could have lost you,” she sobbed.

“But you didn’t,” he said, kissing the salty tears from her cheeks. The honest emotion in her words shook him. “And you won’t.”

She snuggled into his embrace. Within minutes, her steady breathing told him she slept. Reaching down he pulled the sheet protectively over her. Now that he knew that she loved him as much as he loved her, he wanted to take action.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Several days later

“Where are we going?” Angie ran to keep up with Brian as they hurried along crowded Las Vegas Boulevard dodging people en route.

“You’ll see.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her along.

“Why are we in such a hurry?” she asked, breathless.

“We don’t want to be late.”

“Late for what?” Again he responded with a “You’ll see.”

They rushed through the entrance of one of the Strip’s more elegant hotels. Passing the lobby’s busy casino, they took the elevator to the top floor.

“If you’re taking me where I think you’re taking me, you’re crazy. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.”

Before she could protest further, they’d entered the elegant dining room with its white linen tablecloths and flickering candlelight. The hostess ushered them to a window-side table with a spectacular view of the hotels and casinos on the Strip. A waiter made a show of placing her linen napkin on her lap, then handed her a menu.

He asked to see the wine list. Perusing it, he ordered a bottle of wine in French.

“Where did you—?” she started to ask.

“I spent a year as a journalist in Paris.”

Surprised, she wondered why he hadn’t said anything about it before this. What else didn’t she know about this man? She studied the elegantly clad patrons sitting nearby. Although she used to dine in places like this with her ex-husband, she felt uncomfortable tonight. The memories of those evenings weren’t the best. The thoughts of her ex-husband holding a gun to her head remained fresh. “Isn’t this place beyond your reporter’s salary?”

He smiled. “Nothing but the best for the woman I love. Let’s look at the menu. I’m starving.”

She did as directed and saw there were no prices on her menu. It was also written in French. “Cute,” she mumbled. “How am I supposed to order? I can’t understand what the entrees are and don’t know what anything costs.”

“Let me do the ordering.” The wine steward returned, uncorked a bottle of red wine, and poured some for Brian to taste. When he nodded his approval, he added to Brian’s glass and poured Angie a glass. The waiter reappeared and Brian ordered meals for both of them in French. She again thought of her ex-husband who always insisted on ordering for her. She reminded herself he wasn’t Tony Martinelli.

“You haven’t told me what we’re doing here,” she said.

“Celebrating the fact we’re alive and in love.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

The intensity in his green eyes made her look away from him. She knew she shouldn’t. Hadn’t he told her he loved her? She needed to trust him, believe in him. She glanced out the window. Las Vegas lay at their feet, a mix of brilliant neon lights in reds, golds, greens, and blues. Below them the city buzzed with life and energy. Here they sat above the frantic pace of Vegas.

“The city’s beautiful at night, isn’t it?” He took a sip of his wine.

“It does possess a fairytale quality that fades with the daylight,” she replied, looking back at him. Why did she feel like a nervous schoolgirl out on her first date?

The Caesar salads arrived, but the butterflies dancing in her stomach prevented her from taking more than a few bites. He quickly devoured his.

When the waiter removed their plates, he looked questioningly at her barely touched salad. “Is there something wrong with the food, miss?”

“No,” she muttered.

“I forgot she doesn’t like anchovies,” Brian said. “My mistake.”

“We can bring you something else, if you like.”

“No,” she said, now embarrassed. She fought the ridiculous urge to escape, get up and leave. Running is what she’d done all her life. She didn’t want to run this time.

Nodding the waiter left and returned shortly with the main course. “I hope this is to your liking, miss.”

“I’m sure it will be, James. Thank you,” Brian said. “Angie, you need to try the beef. I’ve heard it’s excellent.”

He dove into his meal. It did smell delicious. She sampled a bite. It was good. If only the nervous butterflies in her stomach would cooperate.

As they finished and the waiter cleared their plates, she spotted Rich Dunning and Rita entering the dining room. “Well, I’ll be. Will you look at that?”

“What?” he asked, following her gaze. He smiled. “Love blooms.”

“They’re such opposites,” she said.

“Opposites do attract. The question is will Dunning drop his stuffed-shirt attitude while hanging around that vivacious, fun-loving showgirl?”

“Knowing Rita, he’s not going to be changing her ways anytime soon.” She grinned.

“Are we ready for dessert?” the waiter asked reappearing. Brian nodded. Did the waiter wink at Brian? The wine must be going to her head. She pushed the glass away.

Without their ordering, the waiter brought them two covered dishes, careful to give the dish with the rosebud-patterned cover to Angie and the other to Brian. He then handed a long-stemmed red rose to Brian.

“
Bon appétit
,” he said, grinning as he left.

What the hell was going on?

Brian stood, came to Angie’s side, and went down on one knee as he handed her the rose. People at neighboring tables began to stare. “Brian, what are you doing?” she whispered.

He took the rose-decorated lid from her dish. Staring at its contents, her mouth flew open. Candlelight winked off a beautiful diamond ring. “Brian?”

“Angela Martin, will you marry me?”

“Brian, I—”

He reached up and gently placed a forefinger to her lips silencing her. “I know all your arguments. Love has always been a disappointment for you because you’ve picked the wrong men. That’s why you don’t trust yourself to love again.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything. He had her pegged and she couldn’t argue.

“I promise you, Angie Martin, I’m the right man. My love for you is very real, very honest. I’ll never disappoint you. Nor will I walk away from you or try to own you.”

“Brian, I don’t know.” The past heartaches loomed up and clouded her vision. This man wasn’t like the others, but she was afraid to trust her heart to him.

“Just say, yes.”

****

The gentle rocking of the sailboat woke her. She noticed the sun beginning to set outside the porthole. She’d dozed the afternoon away. Stretching, she smiled and glanced at her left hand where a diamond wedding band glistened in the light. This one didn’t represent shackles. It represented the love shared between two people.