Thrill Me to Death
Page 27
“I promise,” he said slowly, “never to leave you again.”
“Thank you, Max,” she said mistily.
He dealt again, and won again.
This time he pushed the cards to the floor and folded her in his arms.
“I promise to spend the rest of my life playing cards with you. And while I’m at it, I promise to honor,” he kissed her forehead. “Cherish,” he kissed her nose. “And love you.” He kissed her mouth so softly that she barely felt his lips. “Till death do us part.”
The plane banked, but it might as well have been the world slipping sideways on its axis as Cori’s heart shifted.
He smiled. “And by the look on your poker face, you like that idea.”
She laughed, tunneling her hands into his hair for another kiss. “I like the idea.”
Max laid back against the armrest, pulling her on top of him.
She kissed him again, tasting the sweetness that was Max, the familiar lips of the man she loved.
“So,” he said, pulling her against him. “Is that a yes?”
“I thought we were playing promises, not answers.” Closing her eyes, she reached down to the floor and grabbed a card. “Oh, look what I got. An ace.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Now you get to make a promise and get a favor.”
“Lucky me. All right…” She looked into his eyes. “Max Roper, I promise to love, honor, and cherish you till death do us part.”
Their kiss was long, slow, and easy, as if they had forever. When it ended, she laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of the heart of gold buried in his chest of steel.
“Don’t forget your favor,” he reminded her.
She smiled. “That’s easy. My favor is that I get to sleep right here for the rest of my life,” she whispered, patting his chest. “I love this spot. I love this heart. I love this man.”
“I love you, too, kid.” At the strange tightness in his voice, she looked up. He tried to smile, but that just forced out a tear from his eye.
“Aw, Max.” She kissed the teardrop, then his lips. “You’re just so emotional.”
Epilogue
L ucy hung up her office phone and inhaled a whiff of something amazing floating up from the kitchen. Johnny Christiano was working magic again. She stood, still smiling from Max’s news. She’d never heard him sound so…animated.
Eager to share the announcement with the little gathering downstairs, she followed the aroma of basil and the sound of laughter that accompanied it. Only a few of the Bullet Catchers were free to attend her little Christmas soiree, but those who had were definitely having fun.
“The West Coast office just checked in,” she told them as she entered the living room, her gaze automatically seeking out Dan Gallagher next to the Christmas tree.
His green eyes sparkled. So, he already knew.
“How’s Mad Max?” Chase asked, standing as she entered the room.
“Not mad at anyone,” she said, taking the glass of champagne Raquel handed her. She smiled at her assistant. Just hours earlier, they’d finished her annual review and Raquel’s eagerness to take her skills into the field had been the only point of heated discussion. The party, it seemed, had put Raquel back into a good mood. And something else would soon, too.
“He’s doing a great job running the operations from Healdsburg,” Chase said. “Stroke of genius to station him permanently in California, Luce.”
It was that or lose him. She raised her glass. “Thank you, Chase.”
“Strokes of genius are Lucy’s specialty,” Dan said, approaching the group, his gaze warming her. “Are we toasting the news?”
“We are,” Lucy agreed, still holding her glass. “The sonogram says it’s a boy and they are going to name him Maximillian Phillip Roper…the fourth.”
That elicited another round of laughter, cheers and an “awww” from Raquel.
Johnny trotted in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of simmering shellfish. “We call this vongole oreganate, which is baked clams to the rest of you.” He placed the tray on the table and wiped his hands on his white apron. “Now, what am I missing?”
“Baby Roper is a boy,” Raquel told him. “Max Junior.”
Johnny grinned. “I knew they wouldn’t name him Alex.”
Dan chuckled. “That’s a safe bet.”
“What’s the deal with that, Lucy?” Raquel asked, taking a clam. “I’ve heard so many different theories, but neither one of them will talk. Why do Alex and Max hate each other?”
“Has to be a woman,” Johnny insisted. “Nothin’ else could get under their skin like that.”
“They’re both married now,” Raquel mused. “If it were a woman, they’d let it go.”
“Then it’s work.” Chase looked at Lucy. “Has either one ever lost a principal?”
Lucy shook her head. “No Bullet Catcher has ever lost a principal.”
“I’m tellin’ you,” Johnny said, popping a clam. “Gotta be a chick.”
“A sports bet?” Chase said. “Max is a diehard Steelers fan.”
“A family thing,” Raquel suggested. “You know how Alex is about his Cuban clan.”
“A woman,” Johnny repeated. “Has to be.”
Raquel turned to Dan, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet. “Do you know?”
He lifted one shoulder. “All I know is they had their first assignment together, not far from here in Westminster, and it didn’t go well.”
“Come on, Luce,” Johnny prodded. “You know, don’t you?”
“Juicy Miss Lucy knows everything,” Dan said, sipping his drink and winking at her over the rim of his glass.
“Not everything.” For instance, she didn’t know what Dan Gallagher was thinking…most of the time. And, God, that intrigued her. “But I do know what happened between Alex and Max.”
The group erupted with more questions and she quieted them with a smile and one hand. “It was a woman.”
“Told ya.” Johnny nudged Raquel. “Go study history. From Adam on, they’re the downfall of every great man.”
Raquel rolled her eyes and looked at her boss. “Come on, Luce. Spill.”
Lucy took a sip of her champagne and let the sweetness of the moment wash over her. This little group, her Bullet Catchers, were her family now. She absently touched the thin streak of white in her hair, a reminder that she once had another family. But this group was her grounding now. And she’d do anything for any of them.
Including keep secrets.
“What was her name?” Chase asked.
“I can’t tell you exactly what happened…or I’d have to kill you all.”
Dan chuckled. “I know her name was Reagan.”
“Really?” Raquel’s eyes lit up. “Who was she?”
“She was a world-class beauty,” Lucy said. “She had long, golden hair and eyes the color of that sky. She moved like poetry and, quite literally, stopped traffic. And, God in heaven, she knew it.”
“They always do,” Johnny muttered.
“Was she a principal?” Raquel prodded.
Lucy nodded. “They both were assigned to her, because she was very high profile and needed round-the-clock protection. Suffice it to say, Max Roper approached the assignment with detachment and logic, and Alex Romero displayed his usual passion and emotion.” She shrugged. “They clashed.”
“How?”
“They were both madly in love with her,” Lucy said. “But she trotted off with another man.”
“No!” Raquel said.
“And,” Lucy added, “she took Best of Show that year.”
They stared at her.
“A dog?” Johnny choked.
She almost didn’t hear the soft beep of her house phone over their roar of laughter. She picked up the receiver, recognizing the number. Grigori Nyekovic, former KGB and current multimillionaire. A brilliant double agent and longtime friend.
“Raquel,” Lucy said, holding the phone to her. “Could yo
u handle this, please?”
As Raquel left the room, Lucy looked at Dan. “She has no idea what’s about to hit her,” she said under her breath.
“Ms. Machiavelli, up to her old tricks again,” he said, coming closer.
She tucked that strand of hair behind her ear. This is what she lived for, these days. The orchestration of challenges. The vicarious thrills. The pleasure of managing the lives of the men and women who beat the world’s bad guys.
“Watch your back,” she warned in a friendly whisper, locking on his Irish eyes. “It’ll happen to you when you least expect it.”
He shot her his most endearing crooked smile. “I can’t wait, Juice.”
“Neither can I, Danny boy. Neither can I.”
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