Sensuous Angel

by Heather Graham

  Luke turned sharply to his brother. “Yes…I think.”

  “What? Where?”

  “We’re on the street. We’re near. Straight ahead, Andrew, I’m certain.”

  Andrew allowed the engine to idle, then he began to creep along the street.

  “There!” Luke suddenly exclaimed.

  Andrew didn’t see anything special, just another tenement.

  “Where?”

  Luke offered him a grim smile. “Nothing psychic, Andrew. Just a garage.”

  Andrew’s heart thumped hard against his ribs. Beyond the tenement was some kind of an office building. With a garage. Where else would you hide a van?

  He picked up the car’s radio and called in their position. Luke was heading out of the car before he finished.

  Andrew quickly rehooked the receiver. “Luke!”

  Luke glanced back at him with annoyance. “I’m not a fool, Drew. I’ll watch my step.”

  “I know. I just want you to wait. I’m coming with you.”

  She had never known that rats could be such bold creatures. They were supposed to run at the slightest sound. Not these rats. They stared at her in the darkness, their small, beady eyes like little rays of evil premonition. Donna returned those glares hatefully and thumped both boots hard against the floor again. The rats at last skittered and scratched away.

  She tugged hard at the bonds about her wrists again, worrying at them with her fingers that were almost numb. So close to numb that once she had freed herself, it took her a moment to realize that she had done so.

  Then her first action was to swipe her hands vigorously over her face to cleanse it the best she could of the cloying spider web. Thank God! She was free! Free in the cellar, at least. How long had she been down there? Long enough to feel as if the dampness had drenched her, to feel so cold that she didn’t know if she could ever get warm again.

  She stood quietly, staring at the slim rays of light coming from the trapdoor. Was there another entrance? There had to be. If not, they would be coming for her. And she could see now. If she saw them….She didn’t want to continue with the thought. Nor did she dare think of her fate if Red Cap got his hands on her. She couldn’t think about rats or roaches. She had to crawl around and explore every inch of the cellar until she found something—a door, a window, a loose board. Anything.

  She started moving. Spider webs brushed her hair again. She almost bumped into a support beam. She knelt down, discovering that she avoided a lot of the spider webs that way.

  She kept crawling until she found a wall. It felt cold, but little colder than her own flesh. She moved on, running a hand along the wall. On and on. She recoiled in horror, stifling a scream as she touched something that moved. Swallowing deeply, she started to creep along again.

  At last she touched something different. Not cement, but wood. Please God! She prayed silently. Let it be a street-level window, boarded up. Loosely boarded up.

  She carefully located the boundaries of the wood. She had been right! There were several boards over a window. Ignoring the splinters that tore at her fingers, she began to tug at the boards. They were old, decaying, loose in her hands. She struggled for a firm grip on one and pulled for all that she was worth. It gave way, sending her flying back on her rear. And there was light beyond it. The murky gray light of night.

  Donna stumbled back to her knees, peering through the long hole she had made. She couldn’t possibly fit through it, but if she could tear off another board….Her fingers explored and gripped the wood again. Then she paused, her heart racing with terror. There were voices again from above. A few sentences so low that she couldn’t discern the words. And then another, crystal clear.

  “Bring her up now.”

  Desperately she tugged at the board, ripping and tearing in mad panic.

  The hatch door was thrown open. She heard it clunk and clatter as it was carelessly pushed aside. She turned her attention back to the board, pulling with all her strength as footsteps came down the rotting stairs. It was Red Cap. She knew it was he by his voice.

  “Why, looky here! Our guest is trying to leave!”

  He was a fairly young man, probably in his late twenties. But a long scar marred his cheek, and his eyes were as old and cruel as endless time.

  Donna screamed, giving the board one last tug. This time it gave, but as she had before, she teetered backward with the momentum. Red Cap was coming closer and closer. She scrambled desperately to her feet, grabbing the board for protection. He kept coming toward her. She opened her mouth, screaming again, as loudly as she could. Long, and shrill. And desperate.

  “Why, you little—”

  He was coming straight toward her, suddenly he stopped. Donna realized he was looking beyond her.

  A man was coming through the window. Andrew! It was Andrew! Oh, thank God!

  Red Cap muttered an expletive, trying to spin about. Andrew was too quick for him. A flying leap brought him to Red Cap; the two crashed to the floor.

  “Donna!”

  Still too shocked to know the bliss of rescue, Donna barely recognized the voice. She turned, very slowly, as if she were in a dream.

  “Luke!” His name tore in a wrenching anguish from her throat and she catapulted toward him. He engulfed her into arms that were strong and sure. Arms that were tender. Arms that convinced her she was really free at last.

  “Are you all right?” He asked her hoarsely.

  She nodded and was somewhat taken aback as he pushed her from him. But then she realized that Andrew was still scuffling with a man on the floor and that there was a commotion at the top of the stairs.

  Luke ignored Andrew and went for the stairs.

  And Donna was frightened again. For a brief second she had caught the glint of his eyes. She had never seen such fury or such ruthless purpose. But then he was gone. She heard oaths and grunts from above her, the sounds of a heavy weight falling and thumping against the floor.

  “There are two of them!” She wanted to scream the belated warning but her voice was little more than a croak.

  Apparently it didn’t matter. The night was suddenly alive with the screeching wail of sirens, and when her knees buckled, someone was there to hold her. Another man. In a blue uniform. It seemed she was to be helped by men in blue uniforms all night.

  Distantly, vaguely, she heard Andrew muttering out Red Cap’s rights. Then she was prodded out the window and felt the cold again. But it was a beautiful cold. It came from the fresh air.

  “Are you okay, Mrs. Trudeau?”

  She barely saw the officer’s face. She nodded at his words and discovered that she was sitting on a step, shivering. Then someone was shoving a cup of hot coffee in her hands.

  There was so much commotion! And all she could do was sit and shiver until a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders. And something more. A touch she would know anywhere, at any time. Strong, sure, infinitely tender.

  “You’re cold.”

  She looked up into a pair of unique hazel eyes, green and gold, earth and fire. The fury was gone from them now; only tenderness remained.

  “Luke?” she murmured anxiously. One of his eyes was circled with a puffy and darkening shadow.

  “I’m fine,” he said, sitting beside her and holding her close. He stared out into the night. “And Simson is…fine.”

  Donna shivered again. She wasn’t sure what she felt. Yes, she did know what she felt. If Luke would have killed Simson, he would have been justified maybe in the eyes of the law. But not in his own heart.

  He ruffled her hair gently. “He’ll be charged with kidnapping for tonight, and because of tonight, they’ll also be able to take him to court on the murder charges.”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “Tonight will make the charge much more plausible. It will substantiate all that Lorna can say on a witness stand.”

  “Oh,” Donna mumbled.

  “You’re still shivering,” he told her. “Are you that cold?
”

  She gazed into his eyes. “No, not when you’re here.”

  He smiled, but his expression remained taut. “They’re going to have to ask you a lot of questions tonight, Donna.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get home.”

  “I’m ready,” Donna replied.

  Dawn was breaking in streaks of muted crimson and pale gray when they at last returned to the house. Donna was so tired that she was giddy. Luke seemed remarkably awake and alert. And lighthearted. In fact, as he closed the door behind them, he broke into laughter.

  Donna stared at him, certain he had lost his mind.

  His eyes continued to glitter as he returned her stare. Then he reached out a hand to touch her hair, arching a brow high. “Donna, I just realized what a disaster you are.”

  She saw her own reflection in the long hallway mirror. She was a disaster. Her hair was so full of dirt that it looked as if it had gone gray overnight. But she saw Luke’s reflection too, and he definitely had a black eye.

  “You don’t look like such a deal yourself, you know,” she retorted.

  “I guess I don’t,” he said dryly. Then he gave her a grin that seemed doubly wicked because of the shiner. “I think we should take a shower.”

  “Luke! This has been the wildest, most terrifying, most horrendous night of my life! And you’re—”

  “Think of it this way, Donna,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her length full against his. “Things can only go uphill from here.”

  She felt like laughing. But if she started laughing….

  “You’re still supposed to be in the hospital,” she reminded him.

  “I’ve never felt better,” he told her, and there was a ring of sincerity to his words that she didn’t quite understand. But it was nice. Very nice.

  He started walking, forcing her backward along the hall. “We really do need a shower.”

  “Really.”

  She wanted him. All of him. Next to her, holding her. Making love to her. Her eyes must have told him so because suddenly he wasn’t leading her backward any more. He was lifting her into his arms and carrying her hurriedly down the hallway, to the door to their bedroom. She felt his heart beat, just as she felt her own. She saw the tension and the longing in his tautening features, in the gleam of fire in his eyes. A fire she had learned could warm her, no matter how cold she ever became.

  He set her down in the bathroom and began to studiously tug at her sweater. Then at his own. Then they were helping one another, and their clothes were in a tumbled heap on the floor. Then there was the blessed cleansing relief of the water shooting down on them.

  With the hard spray freeing her at last of the filth of the cellar, Donna turned about, encircling Luke’s waist. The water continued to cascade over them.

  “This should be wrong tonight,” she murmured against his. chest. “I mean, you should be in the hospital, exhausted—”

  “I love you, Donna. And loving you can never be wrong.” She felt a shudder ripple through his length. “Donna, I don’t remember ever being so frightened in my life. Or feeling so alone. So panicked, so helpless. And then…we found you.”

  She pressed her lips against the delicious dampness of his chest. “I was never so terrified myself. How did you find me, Luke?”

  She felt his shrug. He dipped, grabbing the soap. She felt it slide over her back, felt his fingers, massaging….

  “The taxi driver saw the van they took you in and a number of people noticed it on the street. It’s a funny green color, and Simson’s flunky was driving pretty badly. We found the district and then saw the garage. It was mostly logic.”

  “Oh,” Donna murmured. “I had thought….”

  The soap paused against her spine. He caught her chin, tilting it to his. “I knew,” he told her softly, “that something was wrong. But I don’t think that was unique to me, not in this circumstance. When people love one another—Donna, tonight was many things. A police department that was right on the ball and knew its stuff. People who cared to get involved and volunteered information. And—” He smiled suddenly. “I like to think that there was a little divine intervention there. I felt like I had lost more than you. And…” He hesitated, then drew her sleek wet head tight against his slick chest. “When I found you, Donna, I found everything.”

  “Blind faith?”

  “Blind faith.”

  A little sigh escaped her. She would never know exactly how he had found her, but all that really mattered was that he had.

  “Donna?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

  “Uh-uh. I was just thinking. Luke, this means that Lorna can come out of hiding now too, doesn’t it?”

  He hesitated. “I think so, although I personally think she’ll need to be very careful until Simson actually goes to trial. But I think I can safely promise that you can see her very soon.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Probably,” he murmured, moving his hands again. Soap suds were erotically smoothed over her hips and buttocks.

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “My touch? Or that you’ll get to see Lorna?”

  “Both!” Donna laughed.

  “Mmm,” Luke murmured dryly, refusing to give up his quest. A shivering sensation took hold of her despite the heat of the water. Despite that of his body. Or because of his body. He was pressed so close to her—so close that she could feel his rising desire, insinuating…exciting against her bare flesh.

  The soap bar came between them. Along with the expert touch of his hands. She ached for that touch, and where she ached, it came. Her breasts were swathed with soap, caressed and cupped. Liquid quivers, as pulsating as the water, shot through her, centering low in her abdomen.

  “There are benefits to having a half-psychic husband,” he said.

  “There are?” Donna queried. She lifted her eyes to his. They were heavy-lidded, sultry, sensual, the dark lashes thick and murky with tiny dewdrops of water.

  “Hmmm. He knows…exactly where…”

  “Oh, yes….”

  “To touch….”

  “To love….”

  Luke shuddered as her fingers began to move against him. He caught her lips in a deep kiss, tasting the water that cascaded around them and the sweetness that was her breath. Her nails lightly raked over his back, his buttocks. Her touch, wickedly sensual, found the evidence of his need.

  “You’re a little psychic yourself, love,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Not psychic—”

  “Ahh, Donna….”

  “Just…in love….”

  “In the shower?”

  “Mmmmmmmm….”

  “Mmmmmmmm….”

  The water continued to fall, a fast and furious crescendo as warm and luxuriously heated as the power and sweet passion of their love. It was the longest shower Donna had ever taken. And the most wonderful. When she had at last toweled herself dry, she slept more sweetly than she ever dreamed, more at peace, more serene and secure, in the arms of her husband and lover.

  She awoke late, but she heard voices coming from the study. Yawning, she slipped into a robe and walked down the hall to the study.

  Luke was talking to a man she didn’t recognize at first; then she wondered how she possibly couldn’t have recognized him. He was a handsome man. As tall as Luke, with hair as dark as Luke’s rich jet. With eyes as green as an emerald sea. Clean shaven, dressed in an attractive suit.

  “Andrew!” she exclaimed.

  “Donna,” he said apologetically. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t be disturbing you this morning. But—”

  “Andrew,” Donna murmured, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek before slipping into her husband’s arms. She smiled at him brightly. “After last night, Andrew Trudeau, you can crawl through my window any time you like.”

  He laughed. “I’m
glad you said that. You never know….” He lifted his hands with a grimace. “Actually, I’d glad you’re awake. Tricia should be by to drop Lorna off at any minute.”

  “Wonderful!” Donna answered. As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

  Luke gave her a little prod in the back. “I think that’s for you.”

  She flashed him a smile and raced down the hall to the front door, throwing it open. A tall, lithe blonde stood there, smiling radiantly.

  “Lorna!” Donna exclaimed. “Oh, Lorna, I’ve been so worried—”

  “Donna! When I heard what had happened—”

  They both broke off, hugging one another, laughing, hugging again. “Come on into the study!” Donna urged, pulling Lorna along. “Luke and—” She broke off as she entered the study. Luke was still there, smiling as he greeted Lorna affectionately, but there was no sign of Andrew. Donna raised a brow to Luke. He inclined his head briefly to the window. Apparently, her brother-in-law had left in customary fashion. Because of Lorna?

  She didn’t have long to wonder. There was so much to catch up on, so much to say, so much to hear.

  Luke stayed awhile, then discreetly left them. Hours passed, but when Lorna rose to leave, Donna was dismayed.

  “I’ve got a flight out to Boston tonight,” Lorna explained. “They still wanted me to stay—they’re worried about Simson pulling something before the trial. But I’ve got to get home, if only for a while.”

  “Be careful, Lorna,” Donna pleaded.

  Lorna promised to take the utmost care, but she was still anxious to get home.

  Luke reappeared to say good-bye. He stood behind Donna, his arms wrapped around her, as Lorna was driven away.

  Donna waved until she was waving at nothing. Then she turned around to face Luke, her smile a little sad.

  “I’d thought…I don’t know why exactly, but I’d thought there was something going on between. Andrew and Lorna.”

  Luke smoothed her hair from her forehead, shrugging. “If it wasn’t meant to be, Donna, it wasn’t.”

  “He crawled back out of the window rather than see her, Luke.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe they’re both acting like fools.”