01 Untouchable - Untouchable

by Lindsay Delagair

  He gave me a little smile, apparently noticing that I had drifted into a daydream. “Can you believe,” he began. “It was a week ago today that you hired me?”

  I smiled. That was one of those bitter-sweet memories. It was the day I went back to see someone that I knew was dangerous; the day I realized I was going to have a very short life span; the day that forever linked me to the person beside me. I simply squeezed his hand. Life was certainly turning out much different than I ever expected.

  His attorney called and said they had taken care of the emancipation order, and as soon as we let him know where we would be staying, they would fax a copy to us.

  His estimate had been correct. It was two in the morning when we reached the northern edge of Palm Beach county. I was back here under the worst possible circumstances, yet I couldn’t deny that there was an innate feeling in coming home. He turned off I-95 and headed toward the beaches.

  “Where are we going?” I asked. The idea of where we could stay for the night hadn’t occurred to me until now.

  “I reserved us a cottage on the beach before we left,” he said with a slow smile. “We’ll be about twenty minutes from the hospital, but I didn’t want us to be too close, just in case.”

  We pulled into the small motel and he went to the office to pick up the key. He returned and drove into the interior courtyard all the way to the back against the inlet. He grabbed our duffels and locked up the car. The sky was overcast and the stars and moon remained hidden leaving the path to the door dark.

  “I can’t see a thing,” I whispered, holding on to the back of his shirt.

  “Hang on, we’re almost in.” With that the door to the cottage gave way and we stepped into the void that smelled like beach sand, sunscreen and fresh linens. He found a small table lamp and turned it on. We were standing in the living room, but it was also combined with a dining and kitchen area. It was one of those shabby chic type of arrangements, but tastefully done.

  I walked toward the large, sliding glass doors to the rear of the unit and turned to a doorway on the left, found a light switch, and discovered a large bedroom—with one large bed. I sat down my duffel and went back to the other room and looked at the furniture. It was an intimate type of setting with a loveseat and two wing chairs with ottomans. He had dropped his bag and was in the kitchen putting the drinks we had purchased from our last fuel stop into the refrigerator.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked after studying my face.

  “I call the wing chairs,” I answered trying to sound enthused.

  He gave me an odd look. “It’s a two bedroom unit, Leese.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and gestured to the single doorway leading off from the main room.

  The eyebrows went up as he caught my unspoken meaning, “There are at least two beds then, right?” But he was already in motion toward the room to see for himself.

  He was only gone for a few seconds, but in that tiny space of time, I had turned one chair to face the other and was pushing them to close the gaps between the ottomans. It was slightly longer than the loveseat, yet (with bent knees) I would make it work. Besides, as tired as I was, I could sleep on the floor and it wouldn’t matter.

  “It was supposed to be a two bedroom unit.” He didn’t sound angry, just exhausted. “You take the bed I’ve got the—the chairs.”

  “No,” I replied firmly. “You drove the whole way here, you take the…” He had maneuvered around to the other side of the chairs and was climbing on top of my makeshift bed.

  “I’ll fix this in the morning,” he said, plopping himself awkwardly onto my arrangement; the ottomans trying to part beneath him.

  “Your butt will be on the floor the first time you wiggle. You’re too big for this.”

  He was closing his eyes and trying to look comfortable as he ignored me.

  I walked away, too exhausted to argue. I went back to the bedroom, reassessing the problem. The bed was a king. He had been able to sleep with me last night under far worse conditions, and I’d just leave my clothes on tonight. I heard the sound of moving furniture. I peeked from the doorway and noticed he had put an ottoman on one end of the loveseat and was trying to lay down with his legs draped over the small couch’s arm, resting his feet on the ottoman.

  “That looks really comfortable,” I said with unmasked sarcasm.

  He was lying on his back at this point. “Well at least, as you put it, my butt won’t be hitting the floor in a few minutes.”

  “No, now both your legs are going to fall asleep.

  “We only have four or five hours until dawn, I can take it.”

  “It’s really gallant of you to sacrifice yourself this way, but after last night…”

  His eyes popped open at the mention of our very long night.

  “I think we could share the bed—it’s plenty big enough—and I promise to stay dressed.”

  “You’re probably thinking I did this on purpose, aren’t you?” he stated, clearly just as uncomfortable on the loveseat as he had been in the chairs.

  I went over to him and knelt beside the loveseat, leaned over and slowly kissed his cheek. I let my hand brush gently across the red marks I had put on his neck in the darkness last night, and then I looked into those eyes. “Last night was on purpose…” I watched his lips part to rebut, but I put my fingers against them to let him know I wanted to finish what I had to say. “It wasn’t my fault or yours, but someone did it purposely to us. Everything happens for a reason. If you can be a gentleman when I’m undressed, then I think I can trust you to be one when I’ve got my clothes on. Come on to bed; we’ll fix this in the morning.” I got up and went back to the bedroom; he’d have to make the decision if he could handle another night with me.

  I turned on the bathroom light and turned off the bedroom light, crawled between the sheets and closed my eyes. It didn’t take long for my mind to start to drift, I was so tired and still feeling a few crappy leftover effects from my near overdose, but as I started to let my mind slip into the deep fog that was filling it, I felt the bed sink slightly.

  “Good night, Annalisa.” Were the last words I heard before falling off into nothingness.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I had given no thought to drawing the drapery over the sliding glass doors or the bedroom windows in the wee hours last night and now the sun was rising over the Atlantic and, judging from the brightness, seemed to be sitting inches away from the back of the cottage. I rolled over to turn away from the blinding light and met his gaze as he lay less than a foot away.

  “Hi,” I said, trying to stay still enough not to disturb the remnants of sleep still inside my brain. He didn’t answer; he just brushed his palm across my cheek, letting his index finger trail my jaw line as he withdrew his hand. He rolled out of bed and went to the window and blocked out the offending light. The room wasn’t dark of course, but it was mercifully darker than it had been seconds earlier. He came back to bed, yawning and stretching as he landed amongst the cool sheets.

  “What time is it?” I questioned, since I couldn’t see the clock on his side of the bed.

  “Seven.”

  “I’ve gotta get ready to go see Mom,” I mumbled, sitting up in the bed. I felt a strong hand on my shoulder pulling me back down to the mattress.

  “I checked the visiting hours when I was on the computer making our reservations. You can’t see her before three p.m.”

  I shivered and pulled the comforter back over myself. The ceiling fan was blowing at top speed and evidently the air conditioner had been on a low setting when we went to sleep. Without all the sunshine heating the room, it was beginning to cool once again. I inched my body backward to steal a little of the warmth that I knew was behind me.

  He guessed my intentions and his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer to himself.

  Now I was warm and comfortable, the problem was that there was no way I could be drowsy with that firm body softly pressed against my own. My arm lay ac
ross his arm and I let my fingers lace between his. I could tell by his breathing that he also wasn’t going back to sleep in this position.

  “This cottage is okay,” I whispered, wondering if he heard me. “I don’t think we need to get a different one.”

  He withdrew his arm from my waist and moved my hair, exposing my neck. Then his mouth found its way to the bared area, tenderly nuzzling and kissing at my skin.

  I should have known better, but it felt absolutely wonderful as it sent tingles and tremors through me. Unthinkingly, I arched my neck to give him easier access. That was a serious error in judgment.

  His arm pulled and held me hard against his body as his breath immediately became quick and shallow. His warm nuzzle became hot, full kisses using his teeth to bite gently into my exposed skin. Suddenly everything became a full blown ‘I just forgot where the brakes are’ kind of passionate.

  “Whoa! Sorry,” I said as I struggled away from him. I rolled off on to the floor with a light thud and then scrambled up on my feet.

  He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes still wild from what he was thinking, “Do you enjoy teasing me or is it that you really don’t have a clue what you do to me?”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t’ mean to… I just like being close to you.” I was trying to regain my composure.

  He fell back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “I like being close to you, too. I can’t understand why you and I—I’d like to be the one…”

  “Aaah!” I vented, the frustration level rising inside me. “Don’t you think I would like to say yes to you? Don’t you realize that you are the person I want to give myself to?” The stupid tears were rising and I hated the fact that I couldn’t argue with him without being overcome emotionally. “But this can’t be right between us, not this way; it’d just be like you proved your brother’s point.”

  I marched toward the bathroom and closed the door. I grabbed the hair brush and straightened out my tangled hair. “Is that the honest truth,” I asked through the closed door, “What he said? Once a guy gets what he wants then he loses interest?” I didn’t hear any reply. I brushed my teeth and gargled, wishing I had brought my duffel into the bathroom so I could change clothes. I washed my teary face, trying to not look upset. When I opened the bathroom door, he was still lying in bed, but this time propped on his other elbow facing toward the bathroom.

  “Come here.” He patted the side of the bed. My expression must have told him I wasn’t completely ready to trust him again. “Please, come here.”

  He no longer had the wild look in his eyes; he simply looked concerned about what I was thinking. I sat down gingerly on the edge, but he was reaching for me, drawing me toward him. I tensed, not sure what to expect.

  “Please, I’m not going to hurt you, Leese.” That was not the best choice of words and we both knew it. He shook his head at the blunder. “I’m not going to try to force you to do something, but I want you close to me—I want to ask you something.”

  I relaxed as those powerful arms pulled me against his chest. He pressed his lips to my hair and whispered, “Is that what you’re afraid of? If something happens between us, then I won’t care anymore?”

  My throat was tingling, trying to form a lump, “I used to think that love meant something—if you gave your heart to someone, then it was forever—but…” The lump had formed and I knew the only way to continue the conversation would be to let my tears fall. I turned and looked into his eyes, his face so close. I reached my fingers up to touch his cheek. “I’m having trouble believing it means anything to a man,” I said, as I looked away.

  “Leese, that’s the difference between needs and love. Everyone has needs. When I kissed your neck, you had a physical reaction. You showed me a need to feel more, to want more. I’ve never known anything else besides the need. David knows that. He’s in the same trap that I was in before I met you. He can satisfy his needs, but he’s never been in love. He knows respect, Dad taught him that, but not love.” He made sure that I turned back to look at him as he spoke. “If I hadn’t felt something different for you, David’s plan would have worked perfectly. But, as much as I had the need that night, I knew I could never do something like that to you unless I knew you wanted me to, not just a drug talking.

  “You don’t know how many times that night while you were lying there begging me to be physical with you that I told myself it was okay, because you were saying yes. But every time the thought crossed my mind, I realized I’d never be able to face you the next morning.” Very slowly and deliberately he lowered his face across my breast and placed his ear to listen to my racing heart. It wasn’t sexual, but it was sensual. As fast as it had been beating, it felt as if it had taken flight with him so close. I cradled his head in my arms, wishing this moment would not end.

  “He’s wrong, Leese. If anything had happened between us, it wouldn’t have made this easier. Even without anything happening physically, it just keeps getting harder every single second. I’m in totally new territory and what I know is that I keep expecting the only other step that I do understand.”

  “I want to take that next step because I love you, but it can’t be this way. Call me a Christian freak, but I’ve got to have forever.”

  He rose up, his face became very serious, “I’d never call you that. I love how much faith you have in God, but we don’t have forever and by the time today is over, we may not even have tonight.”

  A pang of fear coursed through me.

  His voice dropped low and hoarse, “When you go out the door today, the whole world is going to know where you are. You will be on every news broadcast from here to Canada. I don’t know if I can manage to get you back here without a news crew following us—and they’ll lead the rogue right to our door.”

  We lay together for a long while, just being still and holding each other. I looked at the clock and it was nine-fifteen. I rose up and went to the sliding doors, looking out on the private white sand beach on the calm inlet. My stomach rumbled. “Do they serve any kind of breakfast?”

  He was already up and coming through the bedroom door. “Yeah, donuts and coffee, I think. I’ll go up to the office and bring something back.”

  I unlatched the door and slid it over letting the balmy salted breeze come into the room. “They have hammocks under the palms. I’ll wait for you outside.

  He went out the front door; I stepped out the back. There was a nice double-size hammock close to the water and I went down to try it out. Sitting there I turned over what would happen today when I got to the hospital. I was sure Robert would be there at some point and, if he were, what would I say to him? Was it possible that he and I could sit down and work out this mess? Perhaps I could offer him whatever money he needed to clear his debts and get out of our family and leave us alone. I could tell him that I knew about the hit and maybe I could convince him to call it off or I would produce evidence to put him in jail. Of course, I wouldn’t tell him that what I had didn’t amount to quite enough, but… The possibility of having him call off the hit, should free Evan from his obligations. Maybe we might have a chance, a real chance together.

  “I hope you like cherry.” His voice startled me. He was carrying two cups of coffee with a Danish balanced on top of each. I took one from his hand and smiled.

  “Sure, I’m so hungry, I think you could have dropped it in the dirt and I’d still eat it.”

  He laughed, “No, I didn’t drop it, but I could if you…”

  I smacked his shoulder with my free hand as he joined me on the hammock. After our tiny breakfast, I went inside for a shower and to get ready for my debut back into public life. All my clothes had been crammed into the duffle, so I had to spend time ironing. He called his attorney and the document was faxed to the motel office. I folded it up and placed it in my purse.

  The only thing left to do was to wait until I could see my mother. At 11:30, his personal cell went off. It was his father. He stepped out the back of the
unit, closing the sliding door behind him. He motioned me to stay inside as he discovered what information his father could offer. I watched him through the glass as he paced along the beach. I could see nothing positive in his facial expression. He seemed to grow darker, angrier, and more agitated as he talked. I watched as he finally plopped down on the sand, his knees drawn up and parted, his head hanging forward, his hand cradling his temple. I watched him close the phone, but I had a feeling it wasn’t a good idea to approach him.

  I would have to be patient and wait for him to come to me. I watched the clock tick by. After five minutes he returned, but he didn’t say anything. He went out the front door and returned moments later carrying his gun cases.

  I followed him to the bedroom as he opened them on the bed. He looked at me and handed me my holster. “Put it on,” he ordered.

  I took it from his hand, “Are you going to tell me what he said?” I asked it gently, but he still gave me a hard look. He picked up my baby Glock and dropped the magazine into the handle. He actually scared me when he chambered the first round; he had told me I wasn’t allowed to carry it chambered. He clicked on the safety and handed it to me. I hesitated.

  “Take it,” he snapped.

  I put it in the holster and fastened the strap around the butt to secure it. I slipped my arms through the straps and clipped it to the waist of my skirt. I found my hoodie and put it on, zipping it half way.

  He put on his dual holster, chambered a bullet into each gun and secured them in place. He had brought a jacket, which was going to be very uncomfortable since the temperature today was predicted to be in the low eighties. He chambered bullets in both his rifles, closed the case and slid it under the bed.

  I reached out my hand to rest it on his arm as he stood up, “Please tell me what he said. I can tell it’s not good, but I’d still like to know.”

  He still looked so angry, but I could tell he was trying to keep it under control. “Let’s go sit in the living room.” As soon as we sat down, he began, “It’s not one rogue,”