Sensuous Angel (11 page)

They made you feel safe, as if they were always aware of every sight, sound, and movement near them. Intense, concerned. Men of steel, she thought a little hysterically. But no, Superman was a myth. A comic-strip character. Luke and Andrew were real. They could be hurt. But they were also a rare breed of men. They would never step aside dispassionately when something was wrong. And if they brought you into danger, they would protect you to their last breath.

Lorna would be all right. She had to believe it, and she did. She believed in Andrew.

“—can’t do that, Andrew, and you know it. The evidence would be inadmissible in court, and he’d go scot-free.”

Donna gave herself a little shake. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she had blocked out their conversation, and now she was desperately wondering what they were talking about.

“I know,” Andrew said, acknowledging his brother’s words. “And that’s just the point. The D.A. wants an ironclad case.”

“What are you talking about?” Donna asked.

Andrew laughed. “I was thinking about some illegal breaking and entry, but my brother reminded me that in the long run, it might mean disaster.” He stood up, reaching a hand out to Donna once again. “Donna, thank you.”

Donna mechanically stood and accepted his hand. “I should probably be thanking you,” she murmured. “But, Andrew, please—”

“I know, I know,” he told her with a grin. “Don’t let anything happen to Lorna. I won’t. And I’ll do my very best to get it all over with as soon as possible. I’ll keep in touch. And with any luck, you’ll be in touch with Lorna very soon.”

She managed a weak smile. He released her hand and turned to his brother. “Night, Luke.”

“Want to go through the front door?” Luke asked dryly.

“No, I don’t want anyone associating the two of us. And besides”—he grinned very attractively—“I’m used to coming and going through the window. I’d hate to lose my finesse, you know.”

He left—through the window.

And Donna was left alone with Luke, in a horrible tangle of emotions. She was still worried about Lorna. The situation was too serious for her to be anything else. And yet she felt good about her friend, better than she had in a long, long time. Andrew had given her that feeling, because if he was the one looking out for Lorna, then she just had to be okay.

“Are you all right?”

Donna realized that she had been staring out the window after Andrew. She turned to Luke. He was leaned against a corner of his desk, his arms casually crossed over his chest.

“Ah…yes, I guess so. I’m a little overwhelmed.” Overwhelmed, overawed, and overpowered, she added silently. She would never dream of fighting the both of them on any issue. The battle would be over before it began.

Luke shrugged, but his expression was pensive. “Come on,” he told her. “I’ll take you back to your hotel.”

“I’m sure I can get back—”

“But you know that I won’t let you go alone.”

Yes, she did, but she argued anyway. “Luke, I don’t understand what you’re worried about now. If this man Simson staged all the robberies to get away with murder, why would he keep going now—when he’s already managed his murder?”

He was very still. His lashes fell, shielding the green and gold fire of his eyes. “It isn’t really over yet,” he told her. “Not while Simson is still walking around.” He turned away from her and picked up the phone to call for a cab. Donna stood there numbly awaiting him. When he set the receiver down, his expression had changed again. Half amused. Half serious.

“What are you going to do?” he asked her.

“I—I don’t know,” she replied, floundering. “Wait, I guess.”

“You’re going to stay in New York.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. It seems rather pointless for me to stay here especially now that Andrew has promised to keep in touch and let me know when it’s safe to see Lorna.”

“Don’t you think you should stay awhile?”

“Why?” Did the question sound as breathless as she felt? And what was the answer that she wanted? He made her feel that she should run, as far and as fast as she could. But even as she decided that she should, she was longing to reach out and touch him. To allow her fingertips to study the strong planes and angles of his face and search out the mystery of his charisma. She wanted to feel the rough velvet of his palms against her cheek, the warmth and sensual magic of his mouth….

“Why?” He raised a brow. “We both know, don’t we? Us, Donna. You and I.”

“I—I’m afraid—”

“Of me?” He asked her tensely.

She shook her head. “No,” she murmured hoarsely. “Of the feeling.”

He came to her then and caught her face between his hands. His eyes with all their power and magnetism stared probingly into hers. “If I were doctor, lawyer, or Indian chief, would it be different?”

“Yes,” she whispered honestly.

“Give it a chance, Donna,” he entreated huskily.

She nodded and when she managed to speak, she was still whispering. “I still don’t really know anything about you, Luke.”

He smiled and asked her, “Do you ever listen to music?”

“Ah…yes…” she murmured, trying to follow the abrupt change of conversation while lost in the mesmerization of his heated gaze and touch.

“There’s a song out now. I don’t know who wrote it, but Bette Midler sings it on one of her albums. I don’t recall the words exactly, but it’s rather fitting. Something like, ‘I may not know much, but I do know that I love you.’ And that might be all that anyone ever needs to know.”

“Love you”: He had used those words exactly. Beautiful words, encompassing her. And it was true. It was just there. The feeling. But was it enough?

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Then stay in New York awhile and find out.”

“But I’m still afraid of the feeling. Of being—”

He chuckled huskily. “Donna, we’ll go to the zoo, to the park, to the theater. I’ll keep my hands off you.” He shrugged dryly. “It will be like forty days of temptation, but I’ll manage.”

She found herself laughing nervously. “Fourteen days is all I can stay, Luke. I’ll have to go back to Massachusetts then, for a while at least. The fiscal year will be ending and they’ll need me.”

“That sounds fair,” he told her. Then, in a voice deep and low and that made her heart quiver, he said, “Come on. Let me get you out of here before I break my vow.”

In the cab it occurred to her that she could question him, if she chose. He had been the one to say that he loved her, that she could take the time to get to know him.

“Luke?” she asked quietly, aware of the taxi driver. “What happened to your wife?”

The back of the taxi was suddenly and conveniently cast into shadow, but she felt the tension seep into his body. And for a minute she was very frightened of him.

“She died,” he said harshly.

“Of what?” Donna persisted, refusing to lose her nerve.

Again he was silent for a long moment. “Cerebral hemorrhage,” he said brusquely, then added, “My turn. What happened to your marriage?”

She blinked, taken aback by the abrupt turnabout. “It was annulled,” she told him.

“Annulled?”

She couldn’t help but smile a little dryly, a little sadly, a little bitterly. “I told you my family is very, very Catholic. When I knew that it was over, it didn’t matter terribly to me how it ended but it did matter terribly to my family. So I filed for an annulment, and it was granted.”

“What went wrong with the marriage?”

Donna met his eyes levelly, aware that although he was cloaked in shadow, she was bathed in a streak of light from a neon sign. “I was very much in love with my husband. He is a charming man. Nice, bright, easy to live with.”

“Then?”

“He was too charming.” Donna laughed. “I believe that he loved me, it just wasn’t enough for him. One month into it, I found out that he was still keeping half of his clothing at another woman’s apartment. He told me he’d try to leave her but he couldn’t.” Donna grimaced. “It hurt terribly at first. I think I spent a solid week crying and trying to find friends who would assure me that he could change. Then he told me that he had broken off with her, that it was really me whom he loved. But the next week, he was out again until three
A.M
. I knew then that he would never really leave me; he liked the security of marriage. I could have him but be miserable all my life. He would always be back, but he would always be gone again. I didn’t want to spend my life like that—crying for sympathy, knowing inside that things would never be right. And so I left him.” She smiled again. “And I really do believe Mark did love me in his way, because he didn’t fight the annulment. He knew how much it meant to me.”

He didn’t say anything to her; he just squeezed her hand.

When they reached the Plaza, he kissed her chastely on the forehead, told her to lock her door, and walked away.

Donna lay awake half the night. She felt as if she were on fire, alive with electric currents of excitement that wouldn’t allow her to sleep.

She was sure that she was falling in love but there was something a little dark and a little scary about it. She sensed that he was hiding things from her, but the longing surpassed the fear.

She spent a lot of time reminding herself that she should still be worrying about Lorna. And she was worried. But Lorna had Andrew looking after her, and that somehow made things better. It relieved her of the responsibility in a way. She couldn’t do anything, except shiver with fear when she thought about the situation. And it was so easy to combat that shivering with warm and heated thoughts about Luke. Sexy thoughts. Very sexy. But it was all right to have them now….

She didn’t see him on Monday, but on Tuesday they went to the zoo. Tuesday night to the theater. Wednesday they took a helicopter ride around Manhattan.

On Friday, she met the three other priests who were assigned to St. Philip’s—Fathers Frank, Jaime, and Paddy—when Luke invited them over for coffee. She learned that his house really wasn’t the rectory—there was another building by the church that was the
real
rectory—but that Luke used his house for church purposes so frequently that it was called “Luke’s rectory.” Donna was intrigued by his associate fathers. The first two were young men in their twenties; both married and, like Luke, very personable. The third man—Father Paddy—was a delightful older man, enjoying duty at St. Philip’s because the “youngsters,” as he called the others, kept his workload low. All three men were wonderful to Donna.

Luke spoke freely to her, but she still kept that uneasy suspicion that she was seeing only the tip of the iceberg. Over lunch on Saturday she asked him to explain about his house, and it seemed that he chewed a piece of a sandwich for a long, long time before answering her.

“What we call the ‘real’ rectory is comprised of offices, storerooms, and the like. Paddy lives there. He has a little studio with a kitchenette fixed up. The rest of us all have our own homes—I was able to buy one near the church. I guess I have to admit to you, though, that my door, though locked, is always open. Does that bother you?”

Donna shook her head. “No, I like it,” she whispered. She had come upon him that morning when his “open-door” policy had been in effect. She heard him talking to a young man who had apparently run away from home. There had been no patronizing, no answer so simple as “pray for guidance, son.” Luke had bluntly outlined the world for the boy. It was fine to be young, but not stupid. To err was human, but “to continue to wreck his own life was idiocy,” Luke had said.

Then there were softer words, words she didn’t catch. But when she had seen Luke, she had been thrilled by him all over again because she had felt such a pride in him. He didn’t have to try, he didn’t have to practice any techniques. He was just himself, and he brought people flocking to him. And for the first time, she had seen how very right it was for him to be a priest.

But now she was suddenly more interested in his house. “How does a priest afford such a place?”

He hesitated only briefly, then shrugged, laughing. “My family is disgustingly wealthy.”

But then he changed the subject again, away from himself.

“Why don’t you ever let me ask you questions?” she asked him with dismay.

“Because asking questions won’t tell you what you need to know,” he told her briefly.

On Sunday night, he just appeared at her door, smiling. “I’ve got something for you,” he told her.

“What?”

He handed her an envelope. Her heart began to thump wildly when she saw her name written in Lorna’s beautiful, flourishing script.

“Oh, Luke, thank you!” She cried out, impulsively hugging him. She ripped open the note and read quickly.

Donna,

I should have known you would come! Bless you, you are a love for caring, and I’m so very grateful to have you for a friend.

But I feel terrible for being so stupid too! I could have put you in danger. Well, I get bored something awful now and then, but I’m really fine—and anxious to see you soon.

All my love,

Lorna

“Oh, Luke!” Donna threw herself into his arms again, forgetting that he had promised not to touch her. Then everything that happened was natural. He was kissing her deeply, like a man who thirsted for knowledge and was determined to have it. She was able to touch him as she longed to, running her fingers over his face, entwining them in his hair, running them over the rippling muscles of his back and shoulders.

Her body seemed to change as he held her, to soften, to mold to his. The fire of his eyes was inside her, burning low, engulfing her. She knew a need for him so fierce that her mind seemed to crystallize, to fly away with his windswept touch. She tasted his teeth with her tongue, sought hungrily to have all his mouth, his lips, his scent and his taste.

“Donna…”

She heard her name whispered against her lips, a silken breath against her throat. Then she was moaning his, a sound that caught in her throat, becoming a whimper.

At some point they reached the bed. He was lying beside her, and his lips were fused to hers again, igniting that explosive fire. Her body changed again. It was vibrant, quivering as he touched her breast. Cupping it, skimming the nipple to a hard peak of arousal and drawing again moans that were muffled cries of his name from her lips. It was enough and she knew she loved him….