Lucas cleared his throat. “One more thing. I had to leave Frank Gillman’s green Ford Bronco behind when we left the place. Someone needs to recover it and get it back to him.” He paused and thought for a moment. “You might want to stick a watchdog on the old man. He won’t like it so try to be covert. If someone made the plates they could put two and two together and try to get to Gilly through him.”
“Well, damn, is there anything else?” Mickey’s sarcasm broke through some of his tension and he grinned. Then he sobered.
“Not that I can think of other than find out who wants her dead.”
The phone clicked off and Lucas knew Mickey was already acting on everything he had just told him. All he had to do was concentrate on Gilly and the asshole who wanted her dead. Did the guy really want her dead? The question crossed his mind as he double-checked the lock on the car then walked back and into the motel room. If he had wanted her dead, he could have easily blown off her head with the high-powered rifle. Instead, the bullet ripped through the area of her right shoulder. It would slow her down, incapacitate her for a little bit, but she would not die from that kind of wound. Then why shoot at her?
He went to sit on the second bed when the revelation hit and he paused before letting his butt hit the spread. Whoever shot at her was not shooting to kill. Whoever shot at her wanted her alive. Wanted her. “Well, they aren’t going to get her,” he vowed.
Propping himself up against the headboard, his fingers laced behind his head, Lucas sat and listened to Maureen’s breathing. He wondered if she dreamed and if so, what did she dream? Did her visions take her far away from reality or dump her in her own nightmare? He hoped for the former. As her soft snuffles eased his mind, his eyes drifted shut and he thought of a dream they once shared.
He had been out driving on a Saturday in search of the perfect gift for her birthday when something caught his eye. On the side of the road sat a sign that read ‘1966 Mustang for sale’. He made a U-turn and drove down a bumpy, dusty side road until he came to a worn Victorian house. He hesitated, but then when an old man came out the front door in a pair of overalls, Lucas hopped out of the car and met the man at the bottom of the stairs.
“Lucas Danger, sir.”
“Ralph. Not sir.” The older man dropped the rag he carried into his back pocket and shook Lucas’s offered hand. “What can I do for you?”
“I saw the sign for the Mustang.” He glanced around the large yard and did not see any car. “Did you already sell it?”
Ralph arched one skeptical, silver-tipped eyebrow. “You know anything about cars, son?” His gaze traveled to the black Jeep Lucas drove up in and back to him.
Lucas laughed. “Yes, sir.” He laughed again, liking the old man for being protective of his car. “I have a red, 1966 Mustang at home that I’ve almost completed refurbishing. All I have left is to replace the muffler.”
The grin that split the man’s face was wide and inviting. “So you’re not a candy-ass?”
Lucas chuckled and shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Ralph.”
“Ralph,” he repeated.
“Follow me.”
He followed Ralph to the far side of his property where an old, dilapidated outbuilding sat. Inside, the faded wood structure, he helped the older man roll back a very used tarp. When he saw the deep green paint, he knew he wanted her and that he wanted her for Gilly. The color matched her deep sea green eyes. “How much?”
“You haven’t even asked anything about the girl yet.”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s perfect,” he murmured, stroking the curves of her fenders.
Ralph’s chuckle drew his attention.
“What?”
“I think I like you.”
Lucas grinned then turned back to the car.
“She’s not for you is she? For a special lady?”
Again, Lucas peered over at the older man. Perceptive old bugger. “Yes, sir. Gilly will love her.” He knew she would. Every chance she got, she helped him do the work on his Mustang, including changing the oil pan. She looked beautiful in denim coveralls rolled up at the legs and arms wielding a wrench or rubber hammer. “She likes building things, preserving the old.”
“Hold on to that one. She sounds like a keeper.”
Lucas nodded. “She is.”
The following Saturday, on her birthday, Ralph delivered the car to Gilly’s, big red bow and all. When Maureen saw the car, she hooted and hollered, hair flying behind her in flames as she shot off the porch without giving him a second thought. She stood, wringing her hands, excitement bouncing off her as Ralph lowered the Mustang to the gravel drive.
When the vehicle was released and the lift pulled back into place, Ralph walked around the truck and handed her the keys. “She’s all yours ma’am.”
She jumped with a squeal, wrapped her arms around a shocked Ralph’s shoulders and plastered a kiss on his flushed cheek. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.” Ralph aimed a finger in his direction and pointed at him. “Thank your man.”
The look she gave him pinned his feet to the ground where he stood even though it rumbled and shifted underneath. She was the one. The only one. Then she plastered herself to the front of him, kissing his face over and over. “I’m guessing you like your birthday present.”
Ralph chuckled and with Gilly still clinging to him, he managed to walk forward. “Gilly, this is Ralph.” She extricated herself from his chest, straightened her clothing and then turned to face him.
“Hi.”
After that, Lucas stood back and watched his woman listen intently to Ralph explain everything to her about the Mustang. When he bent to show her something, she followed suit and nodded her understanding. If she didn’t comprehend, she asked questions, and Ralph very politely clarified. Then she turned to him. “We’re going to build her together?”
He nodded and stepped to her. “You and me. With our own two hands.” The radiant smile she gave him was one of a woman in love and he returned the smile and the love. “You like it?”
“It is absolutely perfect. I had a secret dream of one day building one together from the beginning.” She had voiced his same dream, a shared dream. He tugged her into his embrace and kissed her. Thoroughly.
Her cry shattered his dream. In a heartbeat, he was at her bedside, stroking a comforting hand over her silky hair and across her satin cheek. “Shh,” he murmured hoping to soothe her and coax her back to sleep. “Shh.”
She settled for a second and then her body stiffened under his touch. Goose bumps rose on her skin and she clutched at the sheet. “No!”
He shook her good shoulder slightly to wake her from her nightmare. “Gilly,” he tried again. “Gilly, wake up.” Her eyelids fluttered then she turned her head and sleep-hazed green eyes peered up at him. “You were having a bad dream.”
She went to roll over, but the movement caused her to wince and suck in a sharp gasp. “Let me.” As he had done before, he supported her bad shoulder and eased her over onto her back. “Let me give you something for the pain before you go back to sleep.”
Leaving her brushing her hair out of her face, he stepped into the bathroom and filled a glass with tap water then returned to her side. After shaking out two tablets, he handed them to her and helped her sit up enough to drink the water and swallow the pills.
“Thank you.”
He set the glass down on the night table and turned to go back to the other bed. “Don’t leave.” The fingers that had clutched at the sheet in terror not five minutes ago now grasped his arm.
“You sure?”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Yes.”
Without second-guessing his motives, he stripped off his T-shirt, dropped the envelope from his back pocket onto the nightstand, and gently maneuvered himself onto the bed, shucking his boots off and letting them drop to the floor with a thud. She was injured so nothing would happen. Absolutely nothing, he thought with reg
ret. He stretched out beside Gilly, careful not to move too much for fear of jostling her and causing her pain.
“Comfy?” She asked, propping her head against his shoulder. Not hardly, but he was not about to voice that comment aloud.
“Want to tell me about your dream?” Her answer was a shake of her head. The movement caused him to go instantly hard as the image of her tracing kisses down his chest, her hair flowing over his skin like red silk flashed in his mind. On a groan he hoped did not reveal his current state, he shifted to lessen the strain against his jeans.
She yawned. “Goodnight.”
Lucas reached out and twisted the switch on the bedside lamp. The room went instantly black. The only light a sliver of moon that peeked through the curtain and across her exposed shoulders. As he shut his eyes and willed himself to sleep, he knew it was not going to happen. Nope, tonight was not a good night. Hurt or not. Asleep or not. Lucas wanted the spitfire of a woman. But it was not going to happen. Not tonight.
FIFTEEN
She rolled onto her side and a red-hot stab of pain sliced through her shoulder and down her back. Her face buried in the pillow, Gilly swore like a sailor. Using her other arm, she held her breath and struggled to push herself up to a sitting position. She let the air out of her lungs in a slow hiss and swiped at the hair that hung in her face.
Glancing over, she saw that Lucas still slept. She grimaced. He had to be uncomfortable with his head leaning half on the headboard and half on the pillow. His hair stuck out in various places and dark stubble dotted his cheeks and chin giving him that swashbuckler, sexy look. Gilly groaned inwardly and rolled her eyes. Enough with the sex thoughts. A shower, she needed a shower. A cold one.
Cupping the elbow of her bad shoulder, she stabilized it so it could not move and then using her feet, she scooted to the edge of the bed. By the time her feet hung over the side, she was tired and tears stung her eyes. You can do this, Gilly. You have to do this. People were dead, too many people, and Morpheus still needed rebuilding. No time to be a big baby. “Now get up,” she ordered herself under her breath.
She got to her feet. With each step of bare feet against thinly padded carpet, waves of pain rolled through her body and crashed at her shoulder. Reaching the bathroom, she quietly shut the door before switching on the light. Luckily, her shirt was already off so all she had to contend with were her bra and her pants. The bra turned out to be relatively easy to get out of thanks to the clasp being in the front. The jeans on the other hand, were a little more daunting to get off when she could only use one hand. She had to shove one side of the denim down at a time. Once she got past her hips, she shimmied them down to her ankles and kicked them aside. Good thing she didn’t need to pee in a hurry.
With a flick of the faucet, she waited for the water to heat before getting under the spray. “Ahh.” The shower felt good. Some of the other muscles that had tensed in defense of the shoulder wound started to relax. It took some doing but by the time she exited the shower, she had managed to wash and rinse her hair.
She had just pulled the curtain when the bathroom door swung open and bounced off the wall. Lucas stood there with his tousled hair and bare chest. “What do you think you’re doing?” He demanded in a gravelly voice.
Gilly lifted one brow. “Isn’t it kind of obvious?” She stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel hanging behind the toilet when her foot slipped and she lost her balance. Her arms automatically windmilled in an effort to gain her balance and she shrieked. Large hands grabbed her under the arms, halting her fall. “Damn!”
“You little idiot,” he growled against her ear before setting her on her feet. “Don’t move.” With one arm draped around her waist, Lucas grabbed a towel, and without invitation began drying her, cursing under his breath the entire time.
“Your morning bedside manner leaves a little to be desired, Lucas.”
He paused from drying her feet and stood. She imagined steam billowed out of his ears in small puffs as he glared down at her with narrowed eyes. A bull in a china shop ran through her mind. The mental image made her smile.
“What’s so funny?” She tried to sober but couldn’t. Particularly when the description fit him so perfectly.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Don’t hurt yourself, Lucas.”
He snarled. “Very funny. When you were at the house yesterday, why didn’t you know that I was upstairs? Why didn’t you intuit that it was me upstairs?”
Her eyes widened in shock at his question then she grinned. “Who says I didn’t?”
“You—” He glowered at her.
Gilly opened her mouth to answer then shut it and furrowed her brow in concentration. She had sensed him, just not soon enough. Not until she had tripped him down the stairs. Then all she wanted to do was to get away from him again. She did not want a keeper, nor did she want to put him in danger.
Besides, “You deserved it.” She shrugged and regretted the movement instantly as the throbbing around the bullet hole intensified.
“Shit!” Lucas scooped her up, carried her out of the bathroom, and deposited her on the closest bed. “Let’s get you dressed and then we’ll rig a sling.”
She nodded.
He wrapped her hair turban style in the towel then left her with her thoughts to gather her clothes. The answer hit her and she shouted it to the bathroom. “I sensed you, but not soon enough,” she told him honestly. “I don’t think I perceived you because of everything that happened. Finding Daniel dead in the freezer, and trying to locate the FLASH drive jumbled my emotions. That and we haven’t exactly been close…”
The rest of what she wanted to explain trailed off when Lucas returned with her clothes slung over one of his forearms and in his hand, the ring. Her throat went desert dry. The ring.
“This fell out of your pocket.” With the ring held between two fingers and at arm’s length, he handed it to her.
Her gaze never left his. Gilly took the square diamond, clutched it in her palm, and dropped her hand to her lap.
“So he really did propose?” Dropping her chin to her chest, she nodded once.
“Did you say yes?”
Did his voice crack? She looked up and her gaze met his. His eyes looked almost sad in a hangdog kind of way. Hurt? No, she did not believe that for a minute. “Does it really matter?”
For a long moment, she stared at him, searching, waiting for an answer. Why should Lucas even care? He was the one who walked away from her.
“Because he was shot,” he stated.
She said nothing, only nodded affirmation.
Lucas bent down in front of her. “Stick your legs in.” Staring at the top of his head, she obeyed without thought.
That was it? End of questions? Oo! She wanted to hit him, make him hurt. She had been right. He really did not care. Damn him! Damn him and the Mustang he rode in on! “I can get dressed myself,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
“Nonsense.” He tugged the pants a little higher. “It will be easier and less painful if I help.”
She did not want his help! Neither, did she want to be naked and vulnerable in front of him so she bit her tongue and let him finish dressing her without another word. When he was done, he hauled out a long sleeved shirt from a small duffle, wrapped it around her arm and tied it at her neck.
He stood and wiped his hands in a satisfied with his own work gesture. “Not too shabby, even if I do say so myself.” He grinned and gave the knot at her neck a check. “That should hold.”
Like a kid pleased with himself, she thought, and returned his smile.
“You want some more Tylenol before I jump in the shower?”
She shook her head. Between the pills and the alcohol, she was still a little fuzzy and did not care for her delayed reactions. “No, thanks.”
She gasped. Without warning, Lucas lifted her up then set her next to the headboard and fluffed some pillows behind her. “You relax. I’ll be out in a jiffy.” He re
treated into the bathroom and shut the door.
“Ouch!” Gilly glanced down at her fist in search of the source of pain. The ring. Opening her fingers, the diamond lay in the center of her palm. Forgotten. She had forgotten about Jimmy’s ring. Again. What did that mean? The question reminded her of the envelope and the FLASH drive.
How could she forget about the FLASH drive after everything she went through to get it? She scanned the small room. There was no sign of the little device, on the bedside table sat the envelope, her name beckoning her to read it. With shaky fingers, she grasped the envelope and held it on her lap, staring at it.
She heard the shower and looked over at the door. The sound of the curtain pulled back carried out to her, followed by Lucas swearing. She chuckled and covered her mouth. “He probably bumped his leg climbing into the tub. Klutz.”
Sobering, Maureen returned her attention to the letter with a mixture of dread and longing. She slid her finger beneath the flap, opened the envelope, and slipped out the cream-colored paper. On a deep inhalation, she steeled herself and unfolded the document. Exhaling, she read.
Dear Maureen,
This letter shall serve as my last will and testament. Should anyone try to contest this will, you shall notice that it has been notarized and a copy of it is has been filed with my attorney of record. His information is on the last page of the document.
Now that the legalities have been addressed, back to Maureen. I, James Thomas Jackson, being of sound mind and body, bequeath to Maureen Gillman, my future wife, all of my worldly possessions.
Her eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “What?” She gasped. Hand to her chest, she attempted to slow the beating of her heart. Once it calmed, she lowered her hand and continued.
Now don’t have a heart attack, Gilly.
She smiled at the fact he knew how she would react.
When I decided to propose and bought the ring, I had my will changed. You are the best thing that ever happened to me and are the love of my life. Although I plan on living a long time and will probably have to change this will a dozen times in my life, I wanted to make certain that you were taken care of should I accidentally get hit by a bus or some other accident occur.
Never Tempt Danger Page 8
