by Nika Rhone
Which wouldn’t have been so bad, if they’d affected him alone.
Lillian wrapped her arm tight around him as she burrowed deeper into his side, her breathing harsh. “I knew you were hurt in the line of duty, but I had no idea you could have been killed. God.”
Probably better not to point out that a freak accident like his was the least life-threatening thing a police officer had to face most days. Judging by the way she was already squeezing him, she might just snap one of his ribs.
“I hope they put him away for a really long time,” Lillian said after a few minutes. Rafe would have grinned at her bloodthirsty tone if the reality hadn’t been so grim.
“He’s dead.”
“What?” Lillian pulled back to look at him. “What happened?”
His worst nightmare.
“He crashed a stolen car.”
“But…you said he was arrested.”
“He was. His wife bailed him out the next day.” The bastard had been back on the streets before Rafe even made it out of surgery.
Lillian gaped at him. “His wife? The one he beat? And threatened to kill?”
“It happens all the time.” Rafe cupped her cheek. “I told you, sweetheart, don’t try to make sense of it. People sometimes do the stupidest things for the people they love.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Well, at least he can’t hurt her anymore.”
Rafe hesitated before answering. “She was in the car with him.”
Lillian’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide. Rafe’s guilt deepened.
“It’s my fault.”
“What is?”
“That she’s dead.”
“What? Rafe, you were in the hospital. How could it be your fault?”
“He was in that car because I didn’t take the shot when I should have.”
“He was in that car because his wife didn’t leave him behind bars where he belonged, and because he was a dirtbag criminal.”
Lillian touched his chest in that soothing circle-pat motion again. “Baby, it wasn’t your fault.”
If only absolution was that easy.
“It wasn’t just her. During the chase, he crashed into some cars at an intersection. Five other people were hurt.”
“Rafe—”
“If I’d done what I was supposed to, none of that would have happened.” A fact that ate him up every single time he thought about the innocent lives his bad decision had ruined.
“Rafe, stop.” Lillian swung her leg over his hips and straddled him, hands pressed to his shoulders as she stared into his face, her expression more serious than he’d ever seen. “Stop beating yourself up over something you can’t change. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
It was the same thing Internal Affairs had told him. That his partner told him. That his shrink kept telling him every time they went round and round about that damn day. Hearing Lillian say it didn’t budge the boulder of guilt off of his conscience one single inch. It was a mistake he was going to have to either learn to live with, or find some way to somehow make amends for, before it drove him insane.
But for tonight, for right this moment, he was done thinking about it. He had a warm, sexy woman he adored sitting on top of the part of him that was quickly gaining interest again, and he still had some catching up to do in the orgasm-giving department. He raised his hand to cup her breasts and rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. They instantly came erect.
Lillian sucked in a sharp breath and bit her lower lip. “You’re trying to change the subject so you don’t have to talk about—ahh, God.”
“Is it working?”
She let out a low moan as one of his hands found her clit and stroked it in time with the tugs on her nipple. When her gaze fixed on his again, her eyes were cloudy with desire. The smile she gave made his cock harden even more. She wiggled her ass against it. “I’d say it’s working just fine.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re looking deliciously relaxed this morning, kitten. I wonder why that is, hmm?”
Feeling deliciously relaxed, Lillian let a wide grin at Des’s suggestive tone be her answer. She stepped back to let him into the apartment. “Amazing what a good night’s sleep will do for you.”
“A good night of something, anyway.” Des leaned down to buss her cheek, careful not to crush the garment bag draped over his arm.
Since he was one hundred percent accurate, Lillian didn’t bother to reply. Instead, she danced around him as they walked to the living room. “Is that my dress? Lemme see! Lemme see!”
“Patience, love.”
“Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Rafe entered the room from the direction of the bedrooms. His dark hair was still damp from his shower, one rebellious piece curling over his forehead. Lillian had to fight not to reach out and brush it back into place.
“You’re right.” Des rolled his eyes. “Whatever was I thinking? Come on, then. Let’s do some show and tell in the bedroom.”
As he wrapped his arm around Lillian’s shoulder to follow behind Des, Rafe whispered to her, “It’s a damn good thing you told me he was gay, querida. He’s too nice a guy for me to hit for no reason.”
Lillian stifled a chuckle. As they entered the bedroom, she shot a quick look around to make sure they hadn’t left any pieces of clothing or stray condom wrappers lying in plain sight. When Des buzzed from the lobby to say he was there with the dress she was wearing to the showing that night, she’d only had a few frenzied minutes to straighten up.
Des hung the bag on the hook beside the closet. With a flourish, he opened the zipper and stepped to the side, hands extended. You could almost hear the “ta-da!”
“Oh, Des.” Lillian walked to the dress, awed. “This is gorgeous.”
Looking at Rafe, Des made a put-upon face. “She says that like it’s a surprise. Of course, it’s gorgeous, kitten. Would I ever put my name on anything else?”
No, he wouldn’t. There wasn’t a piece of clothing he’d designed yet that hadn’t been amazing, or that she hadn’t coveted. But this. She touched the heavy silk, so dark a purple that it was almost black. It moved like quicksilver through her fingers. “You’ve totally outdone yourself.”
He took the compliment as his due. “Try it on, kitten. I want to make sure it doesn’t need any last-minute alterations.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She made a shooing motion at them both. “Out.”
Des raised an eyebrow, but to her relief didn’t argue. Rafe might have beaten back his jealous streak over Des’s comments because of his sexual orientation. That didn’t mean he’d be thrilled to know Des didn’t usually vacate the room while she was playing dress-up with his clothes.
The door had just thumped closed behind them when Lillian’s cell phone rang. Caught between wanting to curse and whimper, she cast a covetous glance at the dress before she snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Lillian? This is Nancy at Top Shelf Catering.”
“Nancy, hi. What can I do for you?”
“Well, not kill me, for starters.”
A cold ball of dread formed in Lillian’s stomach. “What do you mean?”
“I’m afraid I have a bit of a situation here.”
“What kind of a situation? When we confirmed yesterday, everything was fine.”
“Yesterday it was. Today…not so much.” Nancy blew out a loud, frustrated sigh. “About an hour ago, a half-dozen inspectors from the city health department showed up and told me there had been multiple complaints lodged against us alleging all kinds of code violations.”
“That’s insane! Your kitchens are cleaner than an operating room.” Lillian should know. She’d toured them herself before hiring Top Shelf to cater gallery events. The place had been so well scrubbed it all but sparkled.
“That’s what I told them,” Nancy replied, sounding aggrieved. “And showed them. But because of the number of complaints, and the fact that several of them claimed food poi
soning, they’re shutting me down until they inspect every square inch and every speck of food in the place.”
“Oh, my God, that’s horrible.” Then the full implication hit. “Oh. Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. I’m afraid I won’t be able to fulfill the contract for tonight’s catering at the gallery.”
Lillian sank onto the bed before her wobbly legs dumped her on her ass. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am so sorry, but it’s all out of my control at this point. They’ve already said we won’t be allowed to do any food prep until they’re done, and while they can’t tell me when that’s going to be, they did say it most likely wouldn’t be today.”
“But it might?” She grabbed onto that tiny sliver of hope.
Only to have Nancy snatch it away.
“Even if they finish early, I wouldn’t feel right about serving anything we have that they’ve gone through. There are too many people touching things for me to maintain any kind of quality control. I’m going to end up wasting out my entire perishables inventory and start from scratch. If I still have a business left when this is over.”
The bitterness in her voice reminded Lillian that this wasn’t just about her. This was a business and financial nightmare for Nancy. Even if no violations were found, the accusations alone could still destroy her company’s reputation.
“You know we’ll still be using you for our next function,” Lillian said.
“Considering how badly this mess just screwed you, you don’t know how much that means to me. I’m so sorry, Lillian.”
“That makes two of us. Good luck.”
“Thanks. You too.”
Unable to process the disaster that had just crashed over her, Lillian hung up and sat staring at the phone still clutched in her hands. The clock on the home screen seemed to mock her, clicking over from 11:22 to 11:23 marking another minute closer to the showing for which she now had no food. The knock at the door went ignored. How could this have happened?
“Lil, sweetie, if you’re in there fondling the goods while you keep us menfolk standing in the hall, that’s just bad form.” Des paused. “Kitten, is everything all right?”
The door opened a few seconds later. Rafe came to sit next to her on the bed. “Querida, what’s wrong?” His gaze landed on the phone in her hand. Eyes narrowing, he asked, “Who called? What happened?”
“The caterer. They cancelled.” She still couldn’t believe it.
Rafe muttered something under his breath in Spanish. “They can’t cancel. You have a contract.”
“And they have health inspectors closing them down while they investigate a bunch of complaints about food poisoning.” She gave a hollow laugh. “God, what are the odds? Today of all days.”
Yeah, what were the odds?
Teeth clenched against the scream that wanted to erupt, Lillian ground out, “Roman. It had to be him.” She shot to her feet. “I’m going to kill him!”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh, I know, all right.” She started for the door, intent on carrying out her threat.
In an act of supreme bravery in the face of her wrath, Des stepped in the way, blocking her path. “You might want to rethink any acts of homicide, love. Especially when you’ve got an officer of the law as a witness.”
Lillian glanced over her shoulder at Rafe. “You wouldn’t turn me in, would you?”
“Hell, I’ll help you bury the body if it’s true.”
Lillian gave Des a smug grin. “See?”
“But,” Rafe continued, “I think you’ve got a much more pressing concern at the moment. You need to figure out what you’re going to do about tonight.”
The reminder took the starch out of her fury. “Oh, God, tonight. What am I going to do?”
“I don’t suppose you could forgo food this one time?”
It was Des who answered. “The only thing worse than bad food at an event like this is no food. It leaves the masses hungry for whatever meat they can tear off your bones instead.”
Rafe laughed, but stopped when neither of them joined in. “You’re serious.”
“As serious as a bad review.”
“This is a nightmare.” Lillian walked back to the bed and dropped onto the end of it. “Ammar is going to lose his mind if his showing is ruined. I had to all but promise him my firstborn to get him to sign with us.” She flopped back on the bed, groaning. “I am so fired.” And for once she wasn’t just being melodramatic. Felix would need to do something to appease the histrionic artist. It went without saying that she would be the scapegoat he sacrificed to save face for the gallery.
“What kind of food are we talking about here?” Rafe asked.
“Finger foods,” Des replied. “Appetizers. Think things you can poke with a toothpick. Why?”
Rafe gave him an exasperated look as he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Are you kidding? Have the two of you already forgotten what my parents do for a living?”
Lillian bolted upright. “Oh! Do you think—”
Rafe shushed her with his hand as he spoke in rapid Spanish into the phone. She didn’t have a clue what he was saying, but by the growing grin on Des’s face, it was something that might save her butt.
A hope that proved accurate when Rafe held out his phone to her a few minutes later. “Here. Talk to my mother about the details.”
Still in a bit of a daze, Lillian took the phone and spent the next ten minutes going over food choices, many of which she sampled the night before at the restaurant and knew firsthand were delicious. They talked quantity and cost, and by the time Lillian hung up, there was a full replacement plan of food and catering staff in place that would be arriving at the gallery at six o’clock sharp to start setting up. As she handed the phone back to Rafe, she almost couldn’t believe things had been fixed that easily. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Everything set?” Rafe asked.
Launching herself at him, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him until he grunted at the force.
“Thank you.”
“De nada, querida.”
Des held up his phone. “I hope I get a little of that sugar sent my way, since I just got Sheila to come up with a few of her sinfully delicious desserts to finish off the menu.”
Des’s former roommate and very good friend made the most incredible desserts in the universe. She’d landed a full-time gig as head pastry chef for Q’s and was quickly gaining the kind of reputation that was drawing people to the exclusive restaurant as much for her sweets as for the excellent food.
Lillian gaped. “How could she ever find the time? It’s already”—she looked at the clock and swallowed—“almost noon.”
“Leave that to Sheila, kitten. She wouldn’t promise if she couldn’t deliver.” He held out his arms expectantly. “Well?”
With a laugh, she gave him a rib-crushing hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” She looked at Rafe. “Both of you. This would have been a freaking disaster without your help.”
“I hate to debuzz your high,” Des said, “but if I were you, I’d check your other vendors to make sure there aren’t any more surprises in store.”
That sobered her in a heartbeat. “You’re right.”
“You think Roman had a hand in this too?” Rafe asked Des.
“I think somebody did. As for who…” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “That’s tomorrow’s mystery. Let’s just focus on getting through today first.”
An excellent point. Lillian headed for her tablet. “I’ll check with every other vendor right now.” And, if she found any more problems when she was done, God help whoever was screwing with her.
Rafe might have been kidding about burying the body, but she wasn’t.
****
“You totally owe me for screwing up my night off, hermano.” Cristiano Delgado shoved a plate of mojo shrimp in Rafe’s face.
Picking up one of the tangy delicacies and popping it in his mouth, Rafe s
truggled between responding with a smart-ass answer or an apology. Most of the catering crew had taken the last-minute job because they were available and wanted the extra money. Family, however, was expected to fill in whenever needed without complaint. Even Rafe was dragooned into putting on a waiter’s uniform from time to time. Although only in the direst of situations since he never managed to turn his inner cop all the way off. His mother had gotten more than one complaint about him making people uncomfortable.
“Lo siento. We had a situation, and—”
“I know. I heard. Mami was very clear that you’d called in a favor for your girlfriend. So…maybe it’s her that owes me.”
Rafe recognized that particular tone. His brother wanted something.
“Maybe you should ask me and not think about bothering Lillian while she’s busy.” Which she had been, from the second they hit the door late that afternoon. She’d always been a whirling dervish of energy. Seeing her in her element, though, gave Rafe a new appreciation of how important that kind of personality was to the extreme multi-tasking her job required. No matter how many people spoke at her at once, she handled it with competence, calm, and a smile.
Even so, Rafe knew under that composed surface was a crazy woman sweating every single detail to make sure the night went off without any more issues. She didn’t need his brother bothering her with something stupid on top of all that.
“I’m not sure you can give me what I want.”
“Try me.”
“Okay. Introduce me to the blonde.”
Rafe followed his brother’s gaze. “Bernice? Seriously?” The receptionist who’d checked out his ass the first time he visited the gallery hovered at Lillian’s shoulder as Lil spoke to several people about a pair of bold, geometric paintings on the wall. The purple stripe in her bleached hair had been toned down, but she still looked like she was ready to hit the clubs, her dress just a little too short, a little too low cut, a little too tight.
Yeah, he could see exactly why Cris zeroed in on her.
“I could,” he said with some reluctance, “but she’s a little bit, ah…”
