Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys

by Donna Fasano

  “No, don’t bother yourself. My people are on holiday in Las Vegas right now, so I’m alone at home for a short time, and there is no husband or boyfriend.”

  As soon as she said the words, she wished them back. Why the hell did she add on that last bit? Now he’ll get the wrong impression—possibly decide his victim couldn’t attract a man.

  “Okay! Good! Relax and pay attention. Be careful, it’s dangerously unstable up there, and any shift could upset the whole mess.” In her emotional state, Joe’s tone began sounding condescending.

  Is he for real? “No kidding!” Angelina couldn’t believe it. Joe Davidson was another bossy male control-freak, like the men she’d left Chile to avoid. At a time like this, after all her prayers, God chose to have a sense of humor.

  “Angelina...”

  Cutting him off, probably, another be careful, don’t move, don’t panic order, she took a deep breath, calmed her voice and added what to her signified the most important information of all. “Coralee Becker’s in the main office, close to the stairs. She has a head injury. Says it’s bleeding, and I know for a fact that she lost consciousness earlier.”

  Silence lingered on the other end, as if he was waiting for her to finish. So she continued. “I’m in a small office against the far south wall, and I’m trapped beside my desk but uninjured.” She’d finally run out of steam. He still remained silent. Was he paying attention?

  “Dr. Davidson?”

  “I’m here, Angelina. Is there something else you need?”

  Si! To get the hell out of here for starters! “Was the earthquake widespread? Do you know if any of the residential districts were affected?”

  “Not from the reports coming over the radio. The worst hit area is downtown and only certain ill-fated streets were involved. Look, your building contractor, Mr. Ray Armani, has arrived and he’ll figure out how he can get us safely into the first floor office to retrieve the blueprints. Utilizing those, and following his directions, will help us to find you much quicker.”

  In the background, Angelina could hear Ray earnestly talking. “Joe, Miss Serrano is an angel, and her people are special. Me, I’ll help, and we’ll get ‘em out.”

  Joe? For her it was Dr. Davidson. Unfortunately, the click from his phone shut down her snooping. She would have liked to hear Joe’s answer.

  The black void engulfed her once more as she hugged her cell phone to her chest. Through the exposed open windows and walls, she became even more aware of the screeching noises and loud voices over the abrasive grinding of operating machinery. The periodic crashes from other parts of the building were, to her, the most upsetting sounds.

  “Cora, mi amiga, they’re coming for us. Cora?” Oh no! Please be okay…

  The answering silence made her sink into meditation. Giving thanks for the great news about her other employees escaping injury; she forgave her guardian angels their insensitive joke in acquiring the mysterious, controlling Dr. Davidson as her savior. No doubt, putting up with her sprightly, affable Italian contractor would tax his patience.

  For months, she’d been working all her wiles on the crusty, old-school builder. Neither prodding, coaxing nor threatening had forced him to speed up the work on her building. In frustration, she’d glowered at him and he’d glared right back saying, “Angelina. If I do the work, I’ma gonna do it right. This beautiful old building—she deserves nothing but admiration and lotsa respect.”

  Having met her match in stubbornness, Angelina had finally acknowledged her plight and backed off. Resuming her normal, good-natured attitude, she’d switched her battle plans to support Ray instead of fighting, and they’d become good friends. Most mornings had her stopping at a fast-food restaurant to pick up Ray’s favorite double-double coffee with a side order of a cinnamon and raisin bagel, topped by strawberry cream cheese.

  She never doubted her building would be perfect. However, paying for it concerned her. And now, she didn’t know how she would accomplish that.

  “Angelina, what’s up? Why are you so quiet?” Coralee’s voice had sharpened with worry.

  “Thank God, you’re back, Coralee. You had me worried. I called and you never answered.”

  “I must have slipped out for a while. I’m back now. I heard you talking to someone and then muttering in Spanish.”

  “It seems we have a know-it-all on our hands. Not that it’ll matter if he gets us out of here, but why is it that every man I meet has to be so bossy?”

  “What men? There aren’t any except Johnnie, and he doesn’t count. He acts more like your babysitter than I do. And the lucky bum got to miss today’s excitement. After all our prodding, him taking little Jeremy to see Mickey Mouse turned out to be a good thing. But–let’s get back to the subject of all the men in your life. What men? You’re always with women.”

  “Women are safe. They don’t make demands. And they don’t try and change me or make me bow to their wishes.”

  “Angelina, men aren’t all that bad. You just have to meet the right one.”

  “Tell me, Coralee, you’ve had how many boyfriends since I’ve known you? I’ve heard your incessant complaints, so go ahead and enlighten me—where are the right ones?”

  “Still looking, my friend, still looking. I’ve met some geeks and idiots, true. But I’ve also met a lot of really nice guys, Angelina. Just not the one! You know, the man I’d want to be the father of my babies.”

  “You and babies. You’re a mom waiting to happen. I’ve never known anyone who wants children as much as you.”

  “I do want kids. And I’m beginning to think test tubes shouldn’t be scoffed at. Who needs a man nowadays, anyway?” A chuckle followed and then Coralee asked. “Seriously, don’t you want a family?”

  “One day, maybe. Right now, I have too much to accomplish.”

  “Right! The… agenda. We’ll win, babe! See if - if we don’t.” Coralee sounded tired, as if her words were difficult to form.

  Angelina’s anxiety for her assistant pounded at her almost as much as the darkness and the cave-like surroundings. Her palpitations increased as agitation ignited once again. Taking shallow breaths helped her budding headache, however with impending disaster hovering, possibly waiting to strike; the solitude was eerie as hell. Where were they? Should she call Joe back? Would he think her weak? She shifted her cramped legs, and arched her tired back, trying in vain to find a comfortable position.

  “Angelina, you’re quiet? Don’t freak out,” Coralee whispered. Her voice had lost all trace of its usual vitality.

  “I’m holding on, Coralee. I was just sitting here remembering my childhood. The day my brothers left me trapped in a chest for hours when I was around four years old.” Her voice began fraying noticeably so she stopped.

  “Don’t think about that.” Angelina’s statement had woken up her friend. She sounded stronger. “Close your eyes. Imagine the beach on a hot, sunny day, you in your bikini and all the guys around you with their eyes bugging out.”

  Laughter was good medicine, and it worked on Angelina, just she suspected Coralee knew it would. “Right! Me in a bikini. I’ve never even worn a two-piece.”

  “You should. You have the sexiest body of anyone I know.”

  “You are one crazy lady. Do you know how often my so-called, sexy body has been my curse? I’ve thought a lot about my operation. It’s only since the breast reduction that I’ve enjoyed shopping and wearing nice clothes. Before, I hated me.”

  “And I’m too small. Always have been. So don’t think I’ll feel sorry for you. I wished I had more of a chest, so men would look at me like they do at you. Not that you ever pay attention.” Coralee added the last sentence under her breath.

  “Men! Bah! Who needs them?”

  She heard Coralee moan, and then cuss.

  Trying to lighten the mood, Angelina said. “Dr. Davidson sounds like an overachiever and his ultimate goal tonight is us. I have no doubt we’ll get out of here safely. No doubts whatsoever!” The noise
made by workmen now came from inside the building. “They’re getting closer, I can hear them.”

  The cheesy ringtone pealed again and jolted Angelina. She clutched the phone nervously and, in the act of swiping the screen, her cramped fingers refused to work and she dropped it instead.

  “Hello? HEL-LO? Miss? Angelina, are you there? What the hell!”

  Hearing the frustration in Joe’s voice shouting out in the dark helped her to locate the tricky, slippery object. The stupid thing was almost out of reach, and by the time she’d wiggled her fingers to coax it nearer, the fool’s voice on the other end was all but deafening.

  Using his own words back on him, Angelina crooned, “Calm down, Joe. Don’t panic. I merely dropped the phone.”

  First there was an electrified quiet, and then loudly, sarcastically, he answered, “Don’t lose the phone, girl. It’s our only means of communication at this point.”

  Oh! He was getting to her!

  “We’re working hard to get to you.”

  Trust me–you are!

  “If you get scared, call through to Emergency and they’ll link us up. Otherwise, try to stay calm and we’ll be there before you know it. We now have the floor plans and we’re clearing our way to you. We’ll have to shore up a lot of the weak places, and the stairs might take a while to clear out, but the first two floors aren’t that badly damaged. Seems the top floor where you are took the worst of it.”

  Cooling down, she answered in the same finicky, blunt tone as he used. “I understand. We’ll be here waiting.”

  “Yeah! I kinda figured so. Stay calm. It shouldn’t be too long.” Then he hung up.

  In a bit of a nasty copycat whisper, she mimicked, “Stay calm, don’t panic.” Got it!

  Guilt set in quickly. What was wrong with her? Her attitude stank, and it wasn’t like her at all. She really did feel thankful knowing Dr. Joe was coming for them. He was her connection to reality and safety—even if he bugged the hell out of her.

  Chapter 5

  Another hour of anxiety and discomfort passed, leaving Angelina dazed, dozy and thirsty. The noises of the workmen below were like a magical salve to her panic; that and the fact that the aftershocks were waning to short rumbles with no real force.

  Finally, her phone rang again. This time, prepared, she answered without any mishaps.

  “It’s me, Angel. How are things on your end? Did you feel the last couple of aftershocks?”

  This gringo had a lot of nerve making free with her family’s pet name for her, the one she hated. She’d never met the man. On the other hand, he was her rescuer, and upsetting him at this time probably wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Yes, but they were relatively light ones, and changed nothing in here. I’ve not heard anything from Coralee for a while. I’m very worried. I keep calling, but she hasn’t answered. Please hurry, Joe. I am afraid she’s hurt worse than she let on.” If he could call her by her first name, she could repay the compliment.

  “We’re almost to her now. It won’t be long, you can bet on it. Hang in there, sweetheart. Be with you soon. Bye!”

  Sweetheart? Was there no end to his audacity? The deep timbre of his voice zinged along her nerve endings, tantalizing them. Intrigued, she began to look forward to their meeting.

  Sometime later, Angelina woke from a doze to the distinct sounds of the workers in action, filtering through the murkiness. She glowed as she heard Coralee chatting with her rescuers. Hearing their laughter brought immediate relief. It would be just a matter of time before they’d come for her.

  Fluttery palpitations exploded in her chest. She wriggled her hands and took deep breaths. The anxieties she’d suffered throughout the ordeal had taken their toll. Bravery be dammed, she could relax now.

  A longed-for voice came to her from the darkness, “It’s okay, Angel. We’re almost with you,” Joe reassured her.

  Shaking out of a momentary stupor, she cleared her throat, and in a raspy voice answered, “Good,” and a few seconds later, “thank you.”

  Another aftershock gave one last good shake as if to warn of the still powerful possibilities. It gentled at the exact moment Angelina looked up into a brilliant, riveting light. Like a doe caught in approaching headlights, the glow all but blinded her. The light moved closer, and then was raised so it stopped shining in her face.

  “Hello, Angel.” A man smiled, white teeth gleaming in the dimness.

  Joe, her savior in rescue gear, had the most wonderful piercing green eyes she’d ever seen beyond those of her grandmother’s rangy, slumming tomcat.

  Chapter 6

  The unexpected brightness stung Angelina’s eyes, and she reached up to cover her face protectively. Without meaning to invade her privacy, Joe got an eyeful. Gorgeous naked legs, curled into her body like those of a small resting forest animal, were dotted here and there with bloody lacerations.

  And her hair...whoa! She had masses of black curls cascading over her slumped shoulders, her drawn-up knees, and dusting the floor.

  He saw her trancelike expression as she slowly lowered her shaking hands. Watch my heart! Eyes simply shouldn’t be that intensely grey—no—blue, a mixture that tantalized and held an unconscious invitation that read: take me to bed. Their slanted affect—pure sexy South American—had his heart accelerating like an engine revved up at the start of a high-speed race.

  He took his gloves off and laid them aside, and then reached out a gentle hand in her direction. “Hi, Angel. It’s me, Joe.”

  “I’m no Angel! Please, it’s Angelina,” she whispered huskily from a throat that had gone too long without liquid. “I knew you’d come, Joe. Is Coralee safe?”

  Her firm belief that he’d rescue her softened his hard core, and warmth penetrated his normally brisk tones. “She’s doing just fine, Angelina. My partner, Lee, is taking good care of her.”

  Unwrapping a thermal blanket as best he could in the small space, he tried to cover her. Then taking the initiative, he lifted her limp hand and sneakily took her pulse. He held it long enough to assure himself of her state. Then shook it slightly, feeling her quiver from the effect of his touch. He opened and passed her a bottle of water. She greedily drank, coughed and drank more.

  “Not too much all at once, honey.” Meanwhile, he eyeballed the situation around her. The clearing was a pretty tight squeeze, but he figured they could take their time. It was a big plus that she had such a tiny frame.

  “Okay? Ready? Let’s get you out of here.”

  He knew the workers had cleared behind the filing cabinet which had her pinned down. It made his job easier for sure.

  “I’m going to lift this furniture away from you so we can get the back of your skirt loose. When I say ready, you pull it out from under.” Because her movements were so pitifully awkward, he had to help her gather the material and soon she was free.

  “I don’t think I can move,” Angelina told him candidly. She collected her hair with one shaking hand to push it back over her shoulders, and lifted her bottle of water to finish it. “My legs have been in this position for so long, they’re numb.”

  With immense care he sufficiently cleared the area in front of her in order to straighten her legs. Agitated, she shoved her skirt down to cover herself.

  He did a quick survey of her other vital signs, and decided she was suffering mostly from dehydration and exhaustion. She’d perked up after finishing the water and that was a good sign.

  “Angelina?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to massage your legs so you’ll be able to move easier. The pathway we’ve opened isn’t large enough for me to carry you out, so you’ll have to crawl some of the way.”

  “Yes, I understand.” Her hesitant tone made him aware she was rattled. She acted as if no man had ever touched her body before. “Relax Angelina, I’m a doctor,” he said to calm her agitation.

  With the utmost care, he uncurled her legs in order to rub them soothingly with his warm, hypnotic hands. His s
mooth palms circled tenderly as he gently kneaded first her feet, then her ankles, up her calves, and over her knees to her thighs.

  “I can’t believe how painful the tingles are,” she said, her husky, sensual accent, leaving him with tingles of his own in an area that he knew had no business in alerting him.

  Man! Her beautiful little body enthralled him. Naturally tanned, her skin felt smooth, and her well-toned muscles were apparent as she tensed repeatedly. Wanting to keep his hands on her body and explore all of her secrets, he had to force himself to let her go.

  “How’s that? Feeling better?”

  “Yes. I think can move now, Joe. I just want to get out of here.” There was a fine sheen of dampness on her forehead and her gaze flickered everywhere, never focusing on him at all. With jerky movements, she gathered all her hair over her left shoulder and braided it into one thickness. She tossed it towards her back and out of the way.

  He’d noticed how shaky her hands were. “You’re not panicking, are you? Everything is going to be fine. I’ll back out and guide you. There’ll be enough light to see the way. Just stay with me, and we’ll be okay.”

  “I’m good, Joe.” She nodded at his suspicious, intense look. “Honest!”

  Within minutes, she was cautiously following his lead, crawling and slithering along the tiny passage. He relaxed a bit, thinking she was beginning to move easier. She marveled out loud at the hideous mess around her, highlighted by the light on his hardhat, and from distant floodlights.

  In fact, she could see what he couldn’t.

  “Stop right where you are, Joe,” Angelina ordered, her voice cracking from dryness and anxiety. “Don’t move.”

  “Don’t panic, Angelina, everything’s fine now.” Joe said soothingly, not realizing how much he was talking down to her.

  “No! You don’t understand. Stop!”

  But he didn’t listen. The surrounding wreckage, braced by one lone timber which had shifted slightly in the last aftershock, exploded over his back. In the last second of realization, he instinctively drew her under him protectively and threw himself over her body.