by Livia Quinn
“I can see you’re going to fit in perfectly with the other women in my life.”
“What—”
“I said that wrong. The only other women in my life are my family, Delilah.”
Delilah was quiet. “Luc—”
“No, Del. The tire slashing had to be the work of kids. There are no other women, lovers, ex-wives or girlfriends.”
“What about someone you worked with in one of your businesses or at the gym? Have any problems with any of the kids or their associates?”
“You’re on the wrong track. Why—”
“Luc someone knocked a thirty pound concrete planter off the roof. And I don’t think it was a coincidence that you were standing directly under it.”
Luc’s eyes went wide with surprise.
“You don’t remember.”
“No. That’s weird. I haven’t even thought about why I was here.” He frowned.
“Well, I guess the important thing is you still remember your name and your family and me, so it’s not any kind of extensive amnesia. I was kind of hoping you’d looked up and saw whoever pushed the planter off the roof. I guess that’s a bust.”
“Where were you?” He closed his eyes. She waited. When his eyes opened he said, “I was going to meet you for coffee.”
“And if I’d waited at the gym—”
“Hey, was there really anything you could have done?” Luc laid his hand on hers.
“We’ll never know will we?”
“Well, better me than you,” he said.
She sighed and leaned over to rub her cheek against his. “Do you always have to be such a hero?”
“I’ll be your hero anytime, babe.” She smiled against his skin. “So where were you?” he asked again.
“I was sitting across the street. I started to leave but something made me linger. I looked over my shoulder and saw something fall and hit you. When I saw you lying there…” her voice caught.
His good arm came up and he stroked her hair. “I’m okay, honey. What happened then?”
“You started coming around, I called 911 and Jed. Then I rode in the ambulance with you to the hospital. Tom was here. You know the rest.”
“You’ve been here ever since?”
She nodded.
“Ridge arranged for his orthopedic surgeon instead of what my VA insurance pays for.”
“He’s a good friend. I like him. So, you ready to get out of here?”
“I can’t tell you how ready.”
CHAPTER 20
A t noon, an aide showed up to get Luc’s signature, and then they were on their way, with Luc rolled out the front door in a wheel chair. Sitting outside was a Knights Production, Inc. limo. Ridge stepped out and shook Luc’s hand. “It’s good to see you upright, my man. Thought you might enjoy a soft ride home.” Ridge and Del got Luc installed onto the comfortable forward facing seat and Del promised to meet them at Luc’s townhouse after she made a stop at her apartment and the grocery store to get Luc’s wish list.
Luc had been too macho to let on that he was in pain around Ridge so when Delilah arrived the malcontent lion was back. He was propped up on his huge double recliner. A cold Diet Coke sat on the table near him, and the TV was tuned to ESPN though the sound was muted. “Got a headache?”
“Perpetually,” was his answer.
She shook out his medications and handed them to him. He didn’t quibble. “Why don’t you try to get some rest before we have to do the ice treatment again? If you feel better when you wake up, I’ll fix salad, or one of your other requests.”
“Mm-hm.” He put his head back against the navy leather and closed his eyes.
To keep from making any noise, Delilah decided to catch up on some of her paper work online. She got her laptop out of her bag and opened it, wondering if she’d be able to jump on Luc’s Wi-Fi. It turned out to be locked but looking under the router she discovered his password and logged on quickly.
In the next two hours, Delilah made surprising headway on the stack of paperwork, which had accumulated over the last week. Then she turned her attention to browsing the KPI site and their business in the area; actors, production staff, owners, their specialties. Sure enough, Ridge and Lana Calloway-Romano were listed in the corporate records as the owners of Knights.
Del nodded her head. Now she remembered. Lana Calloway had been the darling of the teen runway, winning Miss Louisiana when she was nineteen. The photographs of associated models were extensive, with some doing cover shots and working as actors in trailers, and others doing commercials. KPI was linked with several video producers as well.
Luc slept the sleep of the drugged at first then it was interrupted by some grunts and he’d have been embarrassed to know—moans. She woke him twice to re-dose him then when her sleep came down on her as well, she grabbed a pillow from the office and settled in for the rest of the early morning hours at the other end of the recliner, watching him sleep until she nodded off.
*
Luc’s eyes weren’t open but awareness was seeping through the muddled medication induced fog and the returning pain in his head and shoulder. Time for a redo. He reached over to the coffee table with his right hand to grab the bottle Delilah had left in easy reach.
“Just one, Luc.” She’d asked him several times if he heard her. He probably owed her an apology for his indelicate answer.
She’d left for work after that. So what was that sound? Alarm clock? She wouldn’t have been that mean. One of his sisters might have. He looked around—no horde.
The buzzer sounded again. Insistent, no, continual. Somebody was leaning on his door bell. “Go away.” He pulled the pillow over his head but the increased throbbing was joined by someone pounding at the front door. “Shit.”
“All right. I’m coming.” His voice didn’t sound very loud but he really didn’t care if whoever it was left so he didn’t repeat it. He looked down to make sure he wasn’t naked and sleepwalked to the door, unlocking it and intending to ease it open and tell whoever was there to take a hike, but the door hit him in his bad shoulder, and Mercy pushed past him into his foyer, closing the door behind her and glaring at him.
He hissed through his teeth as he leaned against the wall trying to get the stars and red haze of pain to a manageable level. He closed his eyes and wished her away but when he opened them again, she was still standing there, looking mad, dressed in tight jeans and a low cut red tank, holding what looked like a deep dish of dessert in one hand. “What do you want, Mercy?”
“That’s a fine way to talk to a concerned friend who spent the evening baking you her blue-ribbon dewberry cobbler. I heard about what happened and wanted to see if you were okay.”
She walked through the living room taking in his bedding and the paraphernalia on his recliner, satisfying her curiosity.
“Thanks for the cobbler. As you can see I’m fine. I’m trying to rest so if you’ll put the cobbler on the counter over there in the kitchen, I’ll tend to it later.”
“Luc,” she drawled. “You can’t expect me to leave you here alone. Why you were gasping in pain when I got here—”
“Only because you slammed the door into my shoulder. Now, I hate to be ruder than you, but please, go. I have to get ready for my doctor’s appointment,” he lied.
“Who’s going to take you? You certainly can’t drive in that condition.”
Luc leaned his head back against the wall and bit his tongue. His first inclination was to just answer, but he didn’t want her knowing anything about his business or his friends, especially not Delilah.
“Ridge should be here in about ten minutes. And I need to be ready so, thanks for the cobbler and I’ll see you…when I see you. Monday, most likely.”
Mercy was immobile, her brain circling, calculating some way of circumventing the constraints of his time so she could force the issue, but in the end she gave up. She moved to hug him and he sidestepped toward the door, opening it. “I’ll call if I need anything,�
� he said holding the door wide so she wouldn’t misunderstand.
Nose in the air she walked through the entrance and turned toward the street. He closed the door, locked it and went in search of some water to take a painkiller. She was nothing if not persistent. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t find out Ridge wasn’t on his way. His appointment wasn’t until mid-afternoon and by then he’d be able to drive himself.
He popped two pills in his mouth, stretched out on the recliner and dreamed of a Mercy-headed witch cooking over a cauldron; spooning up a serving of cobbler only to roll out several small dead bodies covered in purple sticky goo. When he awoke an hour later, he decided he could deal with the pain better than he could nightmares of Mercy Love. He rolled off the recliner and made his way to the kitchen tossing the “blue-ribbon nightmare” into the trash.
CHAPTER 21
Ridge didn’t make him a liar. Two hours before his appointment, Ridge drove up in his personal vehicle. “Hey, bud. Thought you might like a lift to the doctor’s office.”
“Delilah called you didn’t she?” asked Luc.
“She’s just looking out for you. And I checked. Dr. Spencer said you really shouldn’t be driving until you at least get over the concussion. But he does want to check to see if the swelling has gone down. How are you feeling?”
“Ready to get back to work.”
Ridge laughed. “No doubt. I haven’t got many jobs for a beat up Highlander, but maybe I can find something for a war ravaged wounded hero type.” He rubbed his jaw. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. Let me think on it ’til tomorrow. What time’s your appointment?”
“One-thirty. Want something to drink? There’s a canned Coke in the frig.”
Ridge nodded and walked into the kitchen. Luc heard the refrigerator open and then Ridge said, “Who brought cobbler?”
“Don’t touch—er, sorry. I’d offer you some but I, uh, don’t think the cook—”
Ridge leaned out the opening to the kitchen, eyeing Luc. “You don’t think the cook what?” his eyebrows adding to the inquiry.
“I wouldn’t eat anything she cooks, that’s all. I just accepted it to be polite.”
Ridge shrugged and walked back into the room. “Well, if you’re ready to go and feel up to it, I’ll buy you lunch, your choice, before we head over to Dr. Spencer’s.”
“Maxwell’s?” Luc’s mouth watered.
“Sounds great.”
*
Luc stretched his legs out under the table and sighed, “Nothin’ like the perfect steak to make a man feel like he’s gonna live.”
Ridge’s eyes narrowed. “I think you’ve just owned up to how badly you felt this morning. So how are you really?”
“I’m fine. I actually do feel better now than I did yesterday and this morning. Of course, I still have some meds in me, but the headache is finally quieting to a dull throb and as long as I don’t bump the shoulder on anything, I feel almost normal.”
Ridge said, “I’m seriously thinking about doing a shoot with you all banged up.” Luc leaned forward and Ridge held up his hands, “Whoa, not this week. I’m sure you’ll be colored up good next week and feel more like posing.” He grinned.
He sat back as the waiter took their plates. “Luc—not to cause trouble between you and Delilah, but she mentioned a problem…”
Luc grimaced, this time, not from pain. After spending fourteen years in the Navy he reckoned he was capable of handling just about any situation. He’d also grown up in a house full of, as Delilah had put it, formidable women; had learned to appreciate the female species, his clan anyway, for knowing what they wanted and overcoming whatever odds to achieve it. Just look at his mother. But he was beginning to realize not all women were cut from the same cloth. Not even close.
“Do you know anything about my family?”
“I’m ashamed to say I don’t, Luc. Why, is something wrong with one of them?”
“No, no. I was just going to give you a little background. You’d think I was embarrassed about it and I’m not, but it seems a bit unusual to a lot of people after they get to know me. I’m the youngest of six children.”
“I had no idea. But big families aren’t that rare.”
“And…I’m the only boy.”
“Wow.”
“Not only that, but I was raised by my dad and sisters.”
“Is your mom gone?”
“Oh, she was gone, all right.” Luc chuckled. “She was career Navy until I was two. Then she retired and came home to raise me, not that I was a problem or anything. Dad already had his hands full when my oldest sister got married, and the other one got pregnant…so she figured it was time.”
Eyes filled with humor looked back at Luc. “Raised by a bunch of she-wolves.”
“You know, you’re not far off. Besides what Del said, they are also bossy, intelligent, beautiful, and give the phrase pack-mentality a whole new tenor. But they are not vicious, jealous, deceitful, overbearing, or lecherous.”
The man across from Luc waited patiently for him to put his problem into words.
“All that to say, that’s the kind of women I’m used to.”
“So the problem is…”
“Mercy Love.” Luc watched as Ridge steepled his fingertips, his face inscrutable. “I was going to say something last week. The thing is, Ridge, if I had a problem with you or another man, I’d know what to do. I’d handle it. This feels… a little like a boy whining to his daddy—”
“Don’t.” Ridge threw his napkin on the tablecloth and sighed. “I’ll learn one of these days to listen to my wife. She told me not to hire Mercy. But she came with great references and you have to admit she can tune her look to fill a lot of genres—Regency, viking, temptress, country, warrior—well, that last was a stretch.”
They both laughed.
Ridge’s lips pursed. “What did she do?”
Luc told him about her unwanted advances during the shoot and when Del visited the studio, but didn’t mention when she’d come by his house or that she’d brought cobbler. That wasn’t his boss’ problem. She wouldn’t get by him again.
“I’ll have a talk with her.”
“I don’t know…” Luc was still hesitant.
“Look, we may be shooting sexy scenes for romance novels but sexual harassment is against our policy. It gets in the way of production, and it’s illegal. When you return to work, she’ll be a whole different woman, or she’ll be gone.”
Luc wasn’t going to hold his breath on Mercy taking criticism, but he was relieved nonetheless. “Thanks, Ridge.”
“Luc, I hope I’m as much your friend as your boss. I told Del the other night, and now I’ll tell you. You need anything, just ask.”
Luc said, “I’ve been meaning to thank you for arranging for Dr. Spencer.”
“No problem. He’s the best. Right after we got married Buffy broke her leg in four places skiing. Doc fixed her up good as new, even made some house calls. I owe him. Speaking of which, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.”
*
Five minutes after Ridge dropped him off, his door buzzed. He trudged over but this time didn’t open it, just asked grumpily, “Who is it?”
“Somebody’s not having a good afternoon.”
He swung the door open. “Hi there, officer. Still want to come in?”
Del smiled. “Having a rough day?” She swiped her hand down the left side of his jaw and stole a slow kiss.
“It’s had its ups and downs, this being one of the ups. Have you talked to Ridge, because you two seem to be efficiently swapping out baby-sitting and chauffeuring? He leaves, you show up and vice-versa.”
“I’m all wide-eyed innocence,” she said. “Now tell me about your day.”
“As if you didn’t know,” he said, heading for the recliner and leaning back with a sigh. “Doc Spencer may know his stuff but by the time he’s finished with me, I’m wishing he was a dentist with laughing gas. I start feeling better and then I s
ee him, and…I’m sorry. I’m whining. It’s just I was feeling good at lunchtime.”
“Ready for a dose of medicine?” she asked reaching for the bottle of painkillers.
Luc shook his head. “I think I’ll try it without tonight. I had a doozie of a nightmare this morning after taking tw—”
“Luc, didn’t I tell you not to take more than one?”
“I know. You were right.” He massaged the area beneath his shoulder.
“What if I stay tonight and keep the buggers away?” She poured one pill into her palm and handed it to him.
He sighed, “I believe that might be the ticket, sh—they wouldn’t think of messing with my cop.” Luc moved over to the left side of the recliner so Del could cuddle up next to him. It felt good to have her there, his right arm wrapped around her, her fragrant hair against his cheek. He said, “What would you like to watch? I can’t reach the remote but get anything you want.”
“How about I tune it to Pandora and we can flip through some of our favorite music?” she said.
“Sounds good.”
Delilah brought up the Internet radio program and looked through some of Luc’s channels. There was everything from Adele to Usher, with Bolo, Pop, and Latin squeezed amongst the ginormous list. “Wow, is there any music you don’t like?”
“Yes. Big band. I hope it’s not your favorite.”
“Not really. But then I don’t see much of my favorite here either.”
“And that would be…”
“Beethoven.”
“Beethoven and roses. I should have guessed.” He kissed the top of her head. “Well, call up something.”
After fifteen minutes of Beethoven, Luc was asleep. His phone vibrated on the coffee table and she looked at the caller ID. Mom. She walked into his office and tapped “accept”.
“Luc Larue,” she said quietly.
“Hello. This is Victoria Larue. Is this Del?”
Del smiled and said softly, “Yes, Mrs. Larue. Luc is sleeping. Do you want me to wake him?”
“I’m awake,” said the sleepy voice from the other room. She walked back to the recliner and handed him the phone.
