Maxine

by SUE FINEMAN

The beach road had been repaired while they were gone, so Gerry dropped Nick and Cara off at the road above Nick’s house. She picked up her suitcase, but Nick took it from her hand. His house was a two-flight walk down wooden stairs. “Not with your sore shoulder. I’ll take it.”

  She started down the steps. “Do you carry groceries down this way?”

  “Or drive down the beach at low tide.”

  They walked on down the steps and into the house. Nick set both suitcases inside the door. “Sit down, Cara. We have to talk.”

  She didn’t sit. “Talk about what?”

  “We need to find you another place to stay, someplace safe.”

  She took a step back, her eyes filled with hurt. “You don’t want me in your house?”

  Nick turned away from the hurt in her voice and in her eyes. If he looked at her now, he’d grab her and kiss her senseless.

  “I don’t understand, Nick. Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?”

  Nick whipped around, his gaze locked on Cara’s. She looked so damned sweet it hurt his eyes to look at her. Without thinking, his words tumbled out. “Have you ever been fucked? I mean really fucked, down and dirty.” She didn’t speak, but her head moved slowly back and forth. He took a step closer and she sucked in a quick breath. “Have you ever screamed and moaned and cried and begged because you wanted it so much?”

  Cara’s chest pumped back and forth, her breaths coming ragged and quick. He leaned in, their noses almost touching. “Because if you stay here with me, I’m gonna take you into that bed and fuck you until you scream for mercy. I’ll kiss and rub and lick and suck and turn you inside out.”

  The little whimper that came from her lips nearly pushed him over the edge. He reached under her shirt and brushed his hand across her nipples. Her gasp told him what it did to her. He should stop now, but he couldn’t. He’d never wanted a woman like he wanted Cara. His body ached with wanting her.

  “Nick,” she whispered.

  “Do you want to stay with me?”

  She didn’t speak.

  “Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered, as his lips brushed hers. “Tell me you want me.” He kissed her lightly. “Tell me.” He kissed her again, this time deeply and passionately. She opened her mouth to him and whimpered again as his hand cupped her breast and his thumb found her nipple, taut and ready. He put her hand on the front of his pants, over his throbbing erection, but it almost undid him. “Tell me, honey.”

  “I want to stay with you. Please, Nick. Let me stay.”

  He slipped his hands inside her clothes to cup her bare behind and pull her against him as his mouth ravaged hers. He pushed her shirt up. She wasn’t wearing a bra. “Oh, God, you’re beautiful.” He dropped to his knees and licked, then sucked those beautiful pale rose nipples as she moaned and ran her fingers through his hair.

  When he stood to kiss her again, she unfastened his pants and reached inside. Her eyes widened as her hand moved over the length of him. He had the rest of their clothes off in an instant, then he gazed into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  She reached down to touch him again. “Yes,” she whispered. “Make love to me, Nick.”

  In his bed, his mouth quickly found hers again, then moved to her breasts, as his hand moved lower. He ran his fingers lightly around that hot, wet opening, teasing and stroking as he drew her nipple into his mouth. She writhed and moaned, then gasped as he slipped his fingers inside her hot, silky dampness and rubbed, exciting her as if she’d never been touched this way before. She tightened around his fingers, but he pulled them out. Not yet.

  “No, Nick, don’t stop.”

  “Honey, I’m just getting started.”

  She moaned when his tongue followed his fingers. This time he let her spasms take her over the edge. She was so responsive, he knew he could bring her to another, deeper climax, one she’d never forget.

  “Taste yourself,” he whispered, as his fingers moved back inside her and his mouth, musky with the smell and taste of her sex, moved over hers.

  She turned her face away, but he turned it back to his. “Kiss me, dammit. Kiss me. Taste yourself.”

  He pushed her legs apart and her knees up, and plunged deep inside her. He held still a few seconds, then pulled out.

  Her mouth opened under his as she cried out. “Oh, God. Oh, Nick.” Her body shuddered when he plunged in and pulled out again. She cried out again, grasping him, pulling at him. “Please,” she begged. “Oh, please.”

  He gave her what she wanted, what he’d wanted for weeks, settling into a rhythm, pounding into her until he felt her body come to a wild, deep climax. Only then did he let himself go.

  She was crying, sobbing.

  “Oh, shit. Did I hurt you?”

  “Hold me,” she cried. “Please hold me.”

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Cry all you want.”

  She nuzzled into his neck as he rubbed her back and behind, holding her naked body so close she was almost a part of his own body. She felt so damn good in his arms, he wanted this to last forever. Her tears stopped, but her arms were still wrapped tightly around him, as if she were afraid to let go.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since the day I found you,” he said softly.

  “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

  “Did your husband ever make you feel that good.”

  “No.”

  “Another man?”

  “I’ve never been with another man.”

  He laughed softly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” For this moment, she was his woman, his lover, his to hold and love as if they belonged together forever. She was a princess and he was a man who worked with his hands, but at that moment, they were just a man and a woman who loved each other. He pulled her tighter, unwilling and unable, for now, to let her go.

  It took Cara several minutes to realize the implications of what she’d just done. She’d had the most incredible sex imaginable with a man she loved deeply. She’d given herself to Nick, body and soul.

  Nick nuzzled into her neck, his lips and tongue doing wonderful things to her neck and ear. “Ready to start over?” he whispered.

  “Don’t you believe in condoms?”

  He chuckled. “It’s too late to worry about that now, baby.”

  She felt him thicken and grow again and her body responded immediately. That ache down deep inside her, that need she didn’t know she had until she met Nick, made her want him again. And again. And again. But she needed a shower. “I need to clean up, and the bed is a mess now.”

  “We’ll shower together, then mess up the other bed.”

  They stood under the warm water in Nick’s little bathroom, gently washing each other, kissing and caressing. It was an intimate, sensual experience Cara never dreamed of doing with Lance. She ran her fingers through the thick mat of curly black hair on Nick’s chest, exploring his strong, sexy body, caressing the man she loved. She reached lower and smiled. “I’ll never doubt anything you say about Italians again.”

  His rich, warm laughter sounded like music to her. She loved this man so much.

  After their shower, they dried each other and Nick took her to the narrow single bed in his small bedroom. This time he was gentle and sweet, loving her with a tenderness that made her love him even more. She wanted to tell him she loved him, because she did, but she had no right to tell him anything until she was legally free. Their time would come. As soon as Gerry ended her marriage, she and Nick would plan a future together, because living without him was unthinkable. She wanted to make love to him every day for the rest of her life, fall asleep snuggled against his strong, solid body, and wake up every morning in his arms.

  Nick pulled her on top of him and covered them both with the blanket. She hooked her left leg around him, possessing him, holding onto the one person who loved her. And she knew he did love her. He hadn’t said the words, but she knew. She snuggled in and closed her eyes.

  Cara was nearly asleep when Ni
ck rubbed her bare behind. “Are you sure you want to stay here with me, Cara?”

  She nuzzled into his neck and nipped his ear. “I want to be wherever you are.”

  “Your husband is still looking for you, and I have to go out and find a job. I don’t want him to find you here alone. Why didn’t you stay at your house, where your security people could guard you?”

  She’d assumed he’d want her to be with him, to stay with him until she got her divorce. He said he had to work, but she thought... she hadn’t thought about his life at all. She came back to Gig Harbor with Nick because she needed his friendship and support. And his love. “I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t realize I’d become a burden to you.”

  “No, honey, you could never be a burden. If you want to stay in Gig Harbor, we’ll find you a safe place to hang out.”

  While he started the laundry, Cara cleaned up and dressed, grabbed her suitcase, and started down the beach, tears streaming down her face. As much as she loved Nick and wanted to be with him, she didn’t belong here. Her presence complicated his life.

  <>

  Lance found the address where Cara’s computer had been delivered. The car she’d bought in Tacoma was parked at the top of the hill above the house, or what was left of the house. Was she inside when it collapsed like that? Too bad it didn’t kill her.

  He walked down the road, checking out mailboxes. They all had street numbers and names. The last one said Donatelli and Lance knew he’d hit the jackpot.

  <>

  Cara walked out to the dock and tossed her suitcase onto the boat. Nick came running out, yelling, “Where in the hell are you going?”

  She swiped the back of her hand across her face, wiping tears off her cheeks. She couldn’t leave him yet. “I’ll stay on the boat for a few days and then go home.”

  He unlocked the door and took her suitcase inside the main cabin. She stood on the other side of the room, hugging her arms. “How long until you build my house?”

  “It’ll take months to build, Cara. You don’t have the land or the permits or the design or anything.” He stepped closer. “Honey, it isn’t that I don’t want you with me. It’s that you need someone with you all the time until someone catches Lance, and if I don’t go back to work...” He sat down and pulled her down beside him. “I’m just a working guy, Cara. I know you don’t have to worry about money, but I do. I don’t have enough left to make the mortgage payment. I gotta find a job, and I don’t want to come home one day and find you gone because your husband found you and took you to that sanitarium.”

  Cara stood and reached for a tissue to wipe her face. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, a flash of light, like the sun reflecting off something. She turned to look and gasped. “Nick, look.” A man was snooping around his house, looking in the windows.

  “Aw, shit! I left the door unlocked.”

  She looked around. “Where are those binoculars?”

  He handed them to her. She fiddled with the adjustments until the man came into focus. “Oh, my God.”

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Lance, and he has a gun.” She dropped the binoculars on the chair, grabbed her purse, and pulled out her cell phone.

  Seconds later, Nick had the lines cut and the boat pushed away from the dock. As it drifted a few feet into the sound, he turned on the blowers and started the engines. Nick pushed Cara’s head down as he backed the boat away from the dock.

  The sound of the engines echoed off the still water. It was so loud, Lance would know right where to find them. Could they get away in time?

  Cara heard a ping, then another. “Is he shooting at us?”

  “Sounds like it.”

  She started to stand to look, but Nick yelled, “Get the hell down and stay down.”

  She heard another ping. The window shattered and Nick yowled. Blood stained his shirt and the hand he pressed to his chest, oozing through his fingers.

  “Oh, my God.” Panic clutched at Cara’s head and chest. The sight of blood made her sick to her stomach, but she couldn’t let Nick die.

  Nick pushed the engine lever to idle and slumped against the wheel. Cara told the 911 operator what happened. “He’s losing blood fast.”

  The operator asked if she could take the boat to another dock.

  “I don’t know how to drive the damn thing,” Cara yelled. “Send someone for us. Hurry. Please hurry.”

  As Nick slid to the floor, Cara dropped the phone and did what she knew had to be done. “Please don’t die,” she whispered, and then yelled, “Damn it, Nick. Don’t you dare die on me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Seeing his wife with another man infuriated Lance. Donatelli must be using Cara to get money, but he wouldn’t get away with it. Lance took aim and fired off one shot, then another and another, until he emptied the gun. One shot went through the window and the boat stopped moving out into the sound. He hit someone, probably Donatelli, since Cara’s head ducked below the window before he started shooting.

  Anxious to cover his tracks, he ran into Donatelli’s house and threw his gun down. He pushed the barbecue grill inside and started it with the propane on full blast. The smoke alarm went off. One punch sent the battery to the floor, silencing the ear-splitting screech.

  Using a wick of wadded newspapers, he lit the furniture in the living room and the pillows in the bedrooms. Ripping off his latex gloves, he tossed them on the fire and ran out the door and up the stairs. By the time he reached the road, flames licked the walls and burned through the roof. “That’ll teach you to steal my meal ticket, Donatelli,” he said to the wind.

  Hearing sirens in the distance, he stripped off his clothes and threw them under the collapsed house Cara had lived in. No one in their right mind would go in there to search. He dressed in the clean clothes he’d left on the backseat of his car and drove away. If the cops picked him up, and they would if they discovered he was in Gig Harbor, they wouldn’t find gunshot residue or propane on his hands or clothes.

  He didn’t kill Cara, as he’d intended, but there would be another time, another chance to do what must be done. He would not allow her to cut him off from the money that was rightfully his. The woman in San Diego had tried to do that and no one would ever see her face again.

  Nobody screwed with him and got away with it.

  Nobody.

  <>

  Alone and desperate, Cara fought down the panic. Nick’s life was in her hands. She pressed on his chest to stop the blood from pouring out. “Please don’t die,” she whispered over and over as the minutes passed and her fingers and hands, then her arms and shoulders, ached from the constant pressure, but no matter how much she hurt, she couldn’t let go. If she did, Nick would bleed to death.

  The boat with the paramedics finally arrived and they took over. Cara stood by in shock, barely aware of anyone or anything except the activity around Nick. He was still breathing, still alive. The pain in her shoulder reminded her that she was still alive, too.

  Footsteps sounded on the ladder as someone climbed on top and raced the boat to Tacoma, where an ambulance, sirens blaring, took them both to Tacoma General Hospital.

  Men and women dressed in green or white rushed Nick away, and Cara stood in the emergency room, numb with shock and covered in Nick’s blood.

  Someone shouted, “Somebody find her something clean to wear. Get her in the shower or something. Blood spooks her out, for God’s sake. Take care of her.” She didn’t realize it was Tony until someone took her arm and led her to a tiled room. Cara looked at herself for the first time since the shooting. Blood, thick and sticky and crusty, coated her hands. Her clothes were ruined, her shirt glued to her breasts with Nick’s blood.

  A mournful wail filled the room and Cara realized it came from her. A nurse dressed in protective clothing and gloves helped peel off the bloody clothes. “It’s all right. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “Where did they take Nick?”

  “T
o surgery.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Yes, he is, and one of the best trauma surgeons in the city is working on him right now. If anybody can save him, it’s Dr. Johnson.”

  Cara stood under the warm water, sobbing. Blood-streaked water swirled around her feet and down the drain. Nick’s blood. Did he have enough left inside him?

  “Please don’t die,” she whispered. “Please don’t die.”

  After her shower, Cara put on the baggy green scrubs and slipper socks they’d given her to wear. The nurse put all her bloody things in a plastic bag, including her ruined shoes, but Cara couldn’t look at it. “Throw it away,” she told the nurse. “All of it.” The only thing she kept was Nick’s friendship ring, which she’d never taken off.

  Someone took her to the surgery waiting room and she saw a familiar face. Tony rushed to Cara and wrapped her in a big hug. “You okay?”

  “No.” He rubbed her back and held her close to comfort her, when she should be comforting him. He and Nick were like brothers. “I’m so sorry, Tony.”

  “Hey, Nicky is a tough guy. If anybody can come through this in one piece, it’s Nick.”

  She pulled back and wiped her eyes. “How did you know?”

  “Angelo and I saw the smoke. The police told us what happened. Angelo has the same type blood, so he’s giving some right now. Al and Ma are on their way.”

  Cara was almost afraid to ask. “What smoke?”

  “Nick’s house. Somebody burned down Nick’s house.”

  “Oh, no,” she groaned. Why did Lance have to do that, too? “My husband did this. Did they get him?”

  “They got a big manhunt going, dogs and everything. They’ll find him.”

  Aunt Sophia rushed in with Al. She swallowed Cara in a big, tearful hug, and Cara cried again.

  Tony hollered, “Hey, take my brother down to give blood. Hurry, they need it in surgery. Right now. It’s for Nick Donatelli.”

  The nurse gave Tony a withering look and sent Al down the hall to give blood.

  Aunt Sophia fussed over Cara, mothering her as no one had in years, and Cara soaked it up. No wonder Nick loved her so much. Tony went to get something to drink while the two women walked down the hall to the chapel. Cara had been raised Catholic, but aside from her mother’s funeral, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to church. Aunt Sophia whipped out her rosary beads and went right to work. Still numb with shock and worry, all Cara could think to say was, “Please don’t let him die. Please, God, don’t let Nick die.”