by Nikki Duncan
“That sounds dangerous.”
“For both of us.” He pulled her shirt collar aside and nipped her shoulder.
“I’m okay with some danger,” she whispered as she reached between them and unfastened his belt.
Kyle lifted her in his arms and plopped her butt on the counter, where the fondant pieces she’d worked so hard to smooth to perfection surrounded her. “You really are a siren.”
“You wouldn’t think that if you heard me sing.” She unsnapped and unzipped his jeans and shoved them down. “Tell me you have a condom.”
“In my pocket.” He bent down and grabbed the wallet and phone from his pockets. Tossing them on the counter. Returning his attention to her, he pushed her long skirt up over her knees. “Did you choose this skirt on purpose?”
“No.” She wiggled closer to the edge of the counter. “But I did go without panties on purpose.”
“You deserve a reward.” Kyle was sure he’d bitten off more than he could chew when it came to Gisella. She threatened his sanity and his ability to keep a professional distance. Hell, she blew his professionalism out of the galaxy, because he wanted nothing more than he wanted to be inside her.
Running his hands over her, not able to stop touching, he bent down between her thighs and kissed her.
She bucked against his mouth. He slid his tongue against her. She moaned. He pulled her in, sucking. She gripped the edge of the counter and screamed.
He couldn’t get enough of her, but he gripped her hips and a handful of fondant, trying to pull her closer. She reached out to her side and found his wallet. “Condom. I want you in me this time.”
In an obliging mood, because why in hell wouldn’t he be when she was so glorious, he took his wallet and pulled out the condom. He was covered and ready when she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in.
He tried to slow her down. After the tiniest of gasps, she moved against him.
She may be new to sex, but she was damn good at it. They moved together, in perfect sync, toward the cliff of completion. When they reached it, they tumbled over the ledge together.
He half collapsed, resting his head on her chest, and tried to come to terms with what had just happened. He’d recognized danger in Gisella from the beginning and avoided it as long as he could. Fate had a different plan he hadn’t been able to avoid.
“Can’t say I’ve imagined having sex here.”
He smiled. “I did.”
“I’ll never look at fondant or this counter the same.” She brushed a finger along his hairline and smiled the sweetest smile. It lit her face and eyes with sparkles. “You’re a surprising man.”
“You’re the surprising one, Gisella.” The biggest surprise was how effortlessly he’d tripped over the ledge for her. He couldn’t even claim to want a rescue.
Whatever else they’d have said was interrupted when his phone jingled with an incoming text. Gisella reached for it before he could, but rather than read his message she handed him the phone and turned her attention to touching him.
As distracting as she was, three words were all it took to slam Kyle back into work mode. We found them.
Chapter Six
Gisella timed her arrival at the office to hit the window when all the planners were there but no clients had arrived yet. Still, she couldn’t enter like it was any other casual morning. She’d been able to keep Jenny, Sheree and even Izzy from noticing the bruise, thanks to conveniently styled hair and makeup, but it looked a lot worse now. There would be nothing casual about the morning when her friends saw the bruise, which now covered her cheekbone and almost the entire side of her temple and forehead.
She took a deep breath to shore up her courage and pulled open the door to enter Tulle and Tulips.
Jenny, their receptionist, looked up with a smile. Her cheerful “good morning” died on her lips and became a gasping “Oh my God! That’s more than a small cut,” as she left her chair and move to Gisella’s side. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
“Get everyone out here and I’ll tell you. I’m only going over it once.”
Jenny nodded and turned to face the office doors which lined the outside edges of their space. “Everyone,” she yelled with a minor edge of panic in her voice. “Come here.”
“Very professional and calm, Jenny.”
Jenny had never raised her voice, so her summons was effective. The other planners rushed from their offices into the main room in a flurry of skirts, slacks, and billowing blouses. Immediately, and with a round of “what’s wrongs?”, their eyes landed on Gisella and she was swarmed.
Lori, Misty, Leigh, Darci, Tabatha, Shayna, Kayla, Tess, Aleshia, Izzy and Brittany surrounded her. A moment later all the other employees were entering. They gasped and exclaimed shock in more ways than she was prepared to handle. Gisella’s head spun with the questions.
“Were you in a wreck?”
“Were you mugged?”
“Who did this?”
“Oh God, your neck!”
Gisella swallowed and held her hand up to stop them. When they fell silent, her mind settled and she explained. “Some people broke into the house Friday night.”
“Those home invasions?”
“You were one of the victims?”
“I thought they caught them.”
She didn’t try to keep up with who asked what. It didn’t matter as long as they all got the same answers. “Yes I was, and yes they have.” Because of how tirelessly Kyle had worked on the case. “I was able to provide the police a sketch.”
“I’m having Jace install a new system for you,” Misty demanded.
“My system’s fine. I had taken some trash out. They must have gone in while the door was unlocked.”
“What were they after?”
“Anything small and of value, primarily my jewelry. It’s safe. The cops came. I’m fine.”
“I’m calling Vic’s friend, Kyle,” Darci said as she pulled her cell phone out.
“He already knows.” Gisella hoped to stop her friends from worrying or getting involved. She’d done pretty well at coping, but their anxiety fed her own. The longer this was drawn out the more she would shake and the more she would want to break down and cry or crawl home and hide.
She’d fought the feeling since Kyle had left for the latest scene. She hadn’t heard from him since, other than a text to confirm they had the right people and to see if she’d gotten any sleep. Of course the answer was no, but she’d lied. Maybe the truth would have gotten him to come over. Then again, that was part of why she’d lied.
“He’s primary on the case,” Gisella continued. “He took care of me.” Made me feel safe. She was not telling them the details of her time with Kyle.
“How badly were you hurt?”
“Why’s your neck bandaged?”
Gisella pointed to her face, telling herself to focus only on this attack and not the one from her childhood. She had to stay in front of the darkness or it would consume her. “I was hit and then I hit a table. When I refused to tell them where I hid my jewelry—” some of it had been her mom’s, “—they took a knife to my throat. I needed some butterfly stitches.”
“What?”
“You could have been killed!”
“I’m calling Kyle,” Darci said. “I want an update. This is not okay.”
“Darci, no. Please don’t. They found them.” Gisella doubted it was enough to stop Darci, but she could hope.
Hope was short lived. Darci waved a hand over her head as she strode toward her office. Her phone was already in her other hand. Kyle would get a call.
Lori, with her calm and cool approach to catastrophes, sent everyone back to work with assurances they’d be updated when there was information to share.
“Thank you,” Gisella said.
“You…” Lori halted Gisella’s thanks with a hard yet compassionate tone. She pointed toward her office and said nothing else until they were inside with the door closed.
Where Gisella’s space was small and sparse so the focus was on the cakes, Lori’s space was larger with an ornate desk, comfortable chairs and a dress podium with mirrors behind it.
“Consider yourself on vacation,” Lori commanded after Gisella had claimed one of the guest chairs.
“I have cakes to get done.”
“And an extremely competent staff capable of filling in.” Lori sat in the chair beside her rather than sitting behind the desk. “How many stitches?”
“Ten, but they’re only butterfly stitches. Little more than Band-Aids.”
Lori raised a brow, but otherwise ignored the minimization. “And your head? Any signs of a concussion?”
“A little bit of a headache, some trouble sleeping, but no cause for concern.” Gisella tilted her head and studied Lori. “How are you so much calmer than everyone else? Why do I feel like you know what I’m facing?”
“I haven’t always designed wedding dresses.”
“Your government work?”
Lori nodded. “I dealt with my share of injuries and near-death calls. I applaud you wanting to get back to work right away, but you need to take time to recover.”
“I’m fine.”
“Have you gotten more than six hours of sleep since it happened? Can you close your eyes without seeing them? Without feeling the knife at your throat?”
Gisella gulped. Tears pooled in her eyes.
“I didn’t think so,” Lori said quietly. “It’s not easy to brush aside terror.”
“I was ready to die,” Gisella whispered. “I knew it was coming and I was okay with it. Not saying I wanted it, but I was okay with it, because if I died I’d get to be with my parents again.”
Lori squeezed her hand and said nothing. She just waited, giving Gisella the chance to keep going.
“They were killed when I was little. In a home invasion. I used to wish I’d died with them.” She’d wished it every time a new bully chose her to pick on. She’d wished it when she’d been too fat and pimply to get a prom or homecoming date or any date.
“I didn’t know about your parents. Why don’t you talk about them?”
“I was hiding under a sink while they died. Talking about them means going back to the night it happened.”
“And Friday took you back there too. Is that part of why you’re not sleeping?”
“Two home invasions in the same house. The memories of then and now bleed together when I close my eyes. Except when…” She trailed off, not wanting to allow herself to rely on the strength she’d found with Kyle beside her.
“Except when what?” Lori prompted. “What helps you drive away the memories?”
“Kyle.” She spoke his name in a whisper, but it was a relief to talk to a friend about him, to give voice to what she couldn’t figure out for herself. “I don’t know why, but the moment he stepped into the kitchen I felt safe. The blood oozing from my neck, the disaster of my house, the terror of seeing the knife every time I closed my eyes for a second… It all faded when he stepped in the room. When he stooped beside me and touched me, talked to me, it all vanished.”
“Wow.”
“I feel safe with him. Safe in a way I’ve never known. And it scares the shit out of me to think about wanting to lean on him. Then it scares the shit out of me to think about him not being there. He spent the night Friday. Held me while I slept. It was the only sleep I’ve gotten.”
“That’s…heavy.”
“It’s disturbing.” Her emotional balance was returning the longer she talked to Lori. Gisella knew Lori’s past hadn’t always been easy, and she’d done some terrible things for what she’d been told were the right reasons, but she’d never considered how dark things had been.
“Do you want some advice from a friend who spent too long being afraid of the day the man she wanted wouldn’t be there?”
“Please.”
“Some women need a man to make her feel cherished. Some need a man to keep her on her toes and challenge her intellectually. Some women need a man who makes her feel sexy as hell. Some of us need a man who sees how our fears and traumas turn us into neurotic messes and wants only to guard us against any more darkness. If we’re lucky, he does all those other things for us in the process.
“If Kyle can chase away your demons, don’t push him away. Allow yourself to rely on someone, and if it doesn’t last, know it’s not because you’re lacking or undeserving.”
“Is that what kept you from accepting Trevor’s proposals for so long? You thought you didn’t deserve him?”
“Yeah. It didn’t matter how many times he swore he’d always be there for me, I was afraid to trust him completely. If you trust Kyle, and it sounds like you do, trust him with as much of yourself as you can allow.”
* * * * *
Kyle closed the door to the interrogation room behind him and rolled his neck. After more hours than he’d bothered to count, the female of the invasion team had finally given them everything they needed to close the case. Once she’d started talking she hadn’t stopped until she’d given them every detail of each invasion.
Listening to her retelling of Gisella’s boiled his blood. After they chose the houses, they followed the marks to establish habits and patterns and get a feel for what they should be able to score. The man, a twenty-six-year-old college dropout, posed as a missionary. Several of the homeowners had let him in on a previous occasion, giving him a perfect chance to case their home. When he’d returned, they had no reason not to open the door for him.
Gisella had been one of only a few who hadn’t worked so smoothly. They’d seen her coming and going, never by a set schedule since she sometimes worked from home. Sometimes she wore valuable jewels and other times she wore none. They’d found their way in, but she’d put up more of a fight than they’d expected.
If Kyle had his way the district attorney would push for attempted murder, considering how close to her jugular the slice had been. Nothing would be enough for making her relive the night of her parents’ deaths.
“Riley,” Burns called out when he entered the bullpen. “You’ve had five phone calls from a woman named Darci demanding you call her with an update on the case. She insists she isn’t going to be ignored.”
“You call her with an update.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and headed toward his desk. “I have someone else to call.”
Blake stepped into his path. Kyle stopped. “What?”
“Just wondering.” Blake shifted his glance from Kyle’s face to his crotch. His brow creased as if he was trying to figure something out.
Narrowing his eyes, Kyle refused to shift beneath the perusal. “What the hell?”
“Wondering if that ring around your cock is uncomfortable.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re sure quick to use that phone. You’ve been texting more than normal.”
“Leave it alone, Blake.” Hours of being across from the asshole responsible for slicing Gisella’s throat had him on edge. Hearing her voice would be the best way to calm him.
“Seriously, does it hurt? Is it a newfangled kind of wedding ring?” Violence trembled on the tips of Kyle’s fingers. Dripped from the ends of his nails. He employed every vestige of control in his possession to keep his hands to himself now. “A woman was victimized. Have some courtesy.”
When Blake opened his mouth again and said, “’Cause I’m thinking the only thing worse could be castration, especially if you’re not getting any,” Kyle told control to go fuck itself. His fingers balled into a fist and planted themselves at the tip of Blake’s nose.
Whether they were talking about the
same woman or not, it didn’t matter to Kyle. Blake was an asshole who needed to be put in his place. Everyone in the precinct knew it, but no one did anything about it.
Blood spurted. Blake stumbled back. Shouts and yells erupted.
Kyle stood, feet planted, fist trembling. “Anyone else?”
“You broke my nose.”
“Maybe it’ll remind you to show some respect for the victims of the assholes we haul in here, you callous prick.” Kyle looked around at the other cops. Most of them raised their hands to show their willingness to leave it alone. The others said nothing or shook their heads.
Somewhere inside was a sliver of regret for striking a fellow officer. He knew better. No one had ever nudged him over the edge. Until the mention of Gisella.
She’d faced enough assholes. She didn’t need to have them targeting her when she wasn’t even around to protect herself.
Kyle pivoted on the ball of his foot to leave and stumbled to a stop when he noticed Gisella standing in the doorway. Kyle’s dad stood at her side, and he was fully in captain mode.
“Shit.” Kyle dropped his head and shook it.
A jerk of Dad’s head was all it took to have Kyle taking the detour that ended in Dad’s office. Before he stepped into his office with Gisella and closed the door, Dad told Blake to stop bleeding all over his station.
“Feel better?” Dad asked.
“He had it coming.” Seeing Gisella held more satisfaction than punching Blake, but he was too ashamed of his outburst to face her.
“Mmm.” Dad motioned to Gisella. “Miss Sands wanted to make sure we caught the right people.”
She knew they had the right people, because he’d told her so. Whatever she was using the excuse to cover for, he’d humor her.
“We did. The woman gave me every detail from how they planned the jobs to what happen during each one.” Kyle took a chance and glanced at Gisella. The bruise made him want to wince, but he didn’t allow it. She was probably already tired of seeing that reaction.
“There’s no doubt?” she asked.
“None.” He sat beside her, studying her. “How’s the neck?”
