SEALed With Love (DiCarlo Brides book 2) (The DiCarlo Brides)
Page 22
Sage sobbed in his arms, clinging and fighting for breath as the panic she’d managed to deal with until now finally took over completely.
Joel scooped her up, pressing her against his still-bare chest and carrying her around the front of the house, away from the flames as the firemen hooked a hose to their tanker truck.
“Women’s voices called out to them as her sisters ran through the snow to the emergency vehicles.
A deputy hurried from his car, carrying a blanket, and wrapped it around Joel and Sage. “What happened?”
“It was arson. He was after Sage.” Joel grasped the blanket with his fingers and wrapped it tighter around them both without dropping her. “He was going to shoot her, I had to—” He broke off and brushed a kiss across Sage’s head as her sobs strengthened.
EMTs arrived and escorted the two of them to the ambulance while the deputy took a look around back to check on Damon.
Jonquil, Rosemary and Lana all arrived out of breath and with eyes wide enough to catch bull frogs.
“What happened? Are you hurt? Did he shoot you?” Lana asked, grabbing Sage’s arm.
“She’s fine, really. Just cold and freaking out. Give us a minute in the ambulance to get the coat off and look for injuries.” His voice was hard with an edge of anxiety.
“I’m fine. Really,” Sage said between heavy, panicked breaths.
Sage held onto to Joel as he stepped into the ambulance, refusing to let go while they checked her blood pressure and asked her if she had any injuries. She shook her head, and tucked her face into Joel’s neck, smelling his unique scent, even under the growing stench of smoke that poured off of the house.
Later, when the shock had subsided a little, they had given a statement to the deputy and her half-sisters had led both of them back to the family house, Sage soaked in a hot tub of water, fragrant bubbles up to her chin, feeling numb inside but finally warm again. It wasn’t as good as Joel’s hot tub—which was probably a twist of melted plastic by now—but it would do. She felt totally wrung out from the stress of the night, and the long day they’d had in Denver didn’t help. She lifted her hand to look at her ring again. It glittered and shone under the bathroom lights, and she remembered the love and rightness in Joel’s eyes as he’d slid it onto her finger in the shop that afternoon.
She focused on those feelings, trying to blot out the horror of the fight and the fire. She’d thought it was all behind them before, or at least hoped it was, but it hadn’t been. Now she kept reminding herself that this was real and it wouldn’t happen again. Damon was dead and couldn’t hurt her anymore.
It seemed like forever since Joel had helped her get the blood off her back, then settled her in for a long soak in the tub. He’d made sure she was okay, then returned to his place to talk to the fire chief.
When she was looking all prune-ish, he finally entered the bathroom carrying a glass of juice and shut the door behind him. “How are you doing, baby?”
Sage tried to decide. She was still a little fuzzy and hadn’t been able to put all of the details in order in her mind. “I’ve been worse.” At least she was warm and clean, but she would have nightmares for a long time.
He sat on the edge of the tub and offered her the glass. “You did really well out there. You were amazing.”
She took the juice with a shake of her head. “No, I totally froze up. I didn’t even shoot him.” She sipped, thinking how much worse it would have been if she’d been forced to pull the trigger.
Joel smiled. “You seemed to find a good enough use for the gun.” He brushed the tangled curls back from her face.
“He would have killed me.” Tears flowed again and she fought to keep her voice even, hating that she was being such a baby. “If hadn’t been for you, I would be dead now.”
Joel shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “No, you saved yourself. If you hadn’t taken control, showed him you weren’t going to let him bully you, I never could have gotten that shot. You’re stronger than you think, Sage.”
She denied it, and he took the juice, setting it aside, then crouched beside the tub so they were on eye level. “You know I love you, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. Though for the life of me, I can’t figure out why you’d want a weak baby like me.” She scrubbed the tears back from her face.
“Because you’re smart and capable, beautiful, sweet, and you accept me for what I am.” He kissed her softly, lingering over it. “I came in here tonight half expecting you to kick me out.” When she looked at him in confusion, his lips quirked up, though not enough to form a smile. There was too much pain in his eyes for that. “I killed a man tonight, Sage. And he’s not the first. And if it came to protecting you, I’d do it again.”
She lifted her hand to touch his cheek, so in love with him she thought she would burst with it. “But you’re not a killer. You’re a protector. My protector.” Mine. The word rang in her head.
He kissed her again. “The house is going to need major renovations—we ought to consider razing it and starting over. And I hope you have some clothes in your closet here still, because though the fire didn’t reach the bedroom, everything’s got smoke and water damage.”
She slid her hand into his. “I’ll be fine. But what about you? You must have been freezing out there, half naked. And your clothes, is there anything left?”
“I’ll live. Vince said he’d scrounge something for me to wear tomorrow, and then I guess we head back to the store.” He grimaced.
“And you love shopping.” She traced the lines between his brows with her thumb, unable to help touching him.
“Maybe I’ll make you shop for me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his T-shirt on his chest. “You might not like the results.”
“I’m easy, just nothing floral, okay?”
“Deal.”
He lifted her chin and looked in her eyes. “Are you still going to marry me next weekend?”
“Just try to stop me. You’re mine, Joel Watts, and there’s no way I’m ever going to let you go.”
“You mean that?” Love shone in his eyes.
She touched his cheek, outlining the contours with a finger. This man was starved for love. She wouldn’t let him feel that way ever again. “Of course I do. I love you, you big goof.”
He swooped down and kissed her, making her forget her stringy hair and bruises and everything that had happened that night. With Joel by her side, she could do anything.
Secrets rule Lana’s life. Her father’s death brought some out into the open, but she has a few of her own: 1) she’s been married to Blake for nearly a year—and trying to get a divorce for most of that time. 2) A moment of emotional weakness and too much champagne ended with her in her husband’s arms—and now she’s pregnant.
Blake hasn’t thought of another woman since they first met, though she believes otherwise. When Lana’s hotel-magnate father offers him the job of regional manager—and an office in the hotel Lana would be managing, Blake jumps at it. Keeping her attention when it’s split between her sisters, the ins and outs of running a resort, and the ‘ghost’ who’s been haunting the building isn’t easy. Learning about the baby convinces him to redouble his efforts though—he isn’t going to give up without a fight, and when someone comes after Lana, the stakes are raised again.
Except follows:
What am I doing here? Lantana smiled blindly over the table at Jeremy, the cute photographer contracted for events at their resort. His best friend, Vince, sat beside him, with his fiancée—Lana’s sister Cami—snuggled at his side. The air was relaxed, the food good and the conversation friendly, but she couldn’t help kicking herself for agreeing to join them. It was late September, the hotel had only been open three weeks, and she needed some time alone.
“What have we here?” Blake Bahlmann’s voice cut through the noise and it was all Lana could do not to cringe. Now she was in for it.
/> “Hey, Blake, come join us,” Cami offered, gesturing to a chair.
Lana carefully avoided meeting his gaze, but she could tell from his stance, hands in the pockets of his jeans, that he was unhappy. She told herself he had no right to be—but it wasn’t really true. They were still married. Technically. This hadn’t been intended as a double date—Cami had invited all of the sisters to join them that night, but somehow the other four had begged off or changed their minds as the evening progressed. And one of Vince’s best friends had backed out, leaving a very awkward, totally unintended, pseudo-date situation. The fact that Jeremy seemed no more interested in her than she was in him was irrelevant.
“I’m afraid I can’t right now. I’m the on-call manager at the hotel tonight and only popped in to pick up my order,” Blake explained. “I’d like a quick chat with Lana, though.”
She swallowed and smiled in his direction, though she avoided meeting his gaze. “I’m sure it can wait until morning.”
He grabbed her hand, which had been sitting on the table top. “No, I’m afraid it can’t.”
She looked back at her companions and widened the smile, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. “We’ll only be a minute. Excuse me.” She rose and allowed him to pull her across the room to a quiet corner near the door.
When he rounded on her, his pale blue eyes were as cold as a Nordic winter. “You’re on a date?”
She wanted to tell him it was none of his business—she even opened her mouth to do so when good sense kicked in. “I know what it looks like, but you’re wrong. It was supposed to be a big group, but somehow it ended up being just the four of us. Nothing’s going on. Unlike some people I know, I consider marriage to be sacred. If you’d sign the divorce papers, I’d be able to move on.” Not that she was interested in getting involved with anyone again after the way he’d broken her heart and trampled on her fragile trust.
The muscle along his jaw ticked. “You know what I want.”
“Not going to happen.” No way was she giving him another chance. She wasn’t stupid enough to put her heart on the line a second time, even if her fingers itched to brush away the lock of hair that fell over his forehead. She could smell his musky cologne mixed with the spicy Italian scent of the pizzeria and again felt the pain of his betrayal.
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, dark brows rising. “Your call. But until it’s official, you’re not dating someone else.”
She wanted to rip out her hair. “It’s not a date. It’s a group of friends—”
“Who happen to form two couples,” he interrupted. “Spare me.”
“Hey, Pot, Kettle’s calling.” He had a lot of nerve to think he had any right to lay into her for a pizza with friends.
His lips thinned and his eyes grew dangerous before his shoulders loosened. “And that wasn’t what you thought it was, either.”
“Right. Sorry, but I got a better visual of your interlude than you think.” When the pain of seeing him with another woman tried to get past her protective walls, she forced all thoughts of that day away.
“I don’t know how you could have, since nothing happened.” He waited a few beats, and his tone softened a little, though the earnestness of his gaze filled his voice. “I would never cheat on you.”
“Funny how I’ve heard that before.” She held up her hands to stop his rebuttal. This was an old argument and she wasn’t having it tonight. “Forget it. Sorry I brought it up. I’ll be more careful next time Cami invites me to go out with them.”
He shook his head. “Not good enough.”
She drilled a finger into his chest. Fury roared through her. “You don’t get to dictate to me.” She was going to make some comment about how he wasn’t her boss, but caught herself in time, since he sort of was—at least at the hotel.
He grabbed her hand and held on tight enough she couldn’t get it out of his grip, but not hard enough to hurt her. “If you go back in there and sit down, I’m telling everyone about us. I don’t know why we didn’t do it ages ago.”
Lana sucked a breath through clenched teeth. “Fine. Let me get my purse and make my excuses.” She yanked on her wrist, but he didn’t release it.
His face softened and his voice dropped several degrees, turning velvety. “I want another chance with you, Lana.”
Several emotions rolled through her: grief and longing topping the list. “I’m not my mom. I’m not going to look the other way.”
He released her wrist and held out both hands. “Look all you want. I have nothing to hide, baby.” His voice was low and had the silky Southern edge that always made her go soft when he used his favorite endearment.
Furious that he was starting to get to her, and that he would call her baby, she whirled around and returned to the table. By the time she got there, she’d managed to get her expression calmed to apologetic even though she was still steaming inside. “I’m sorry. Something’s come up back at the hotel. I’ll have to catch up with you guys another time.” She included all of them in her words, ending with Jeremy. “It was good to meet you again. I hope we get another chance to talk.”
“Same here. I hope you’re able to straighten things out quickly.” His smile was friendly, but not particularly concerned or upset. He was a nice enough guy, but even if there had been no Blake in her past or present, she and Jeremy never would have clicked.
“Thanks.” She flashed him one of her best smiles, then collecting her purse, said goodnight and headed back for the door.
Blake was still standing there—this time with his takeout container—tall, suave and infuriating.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” she snapped as soon as he’d followed her out the door.
He put a warm hand onto the small of her back. “Verisimilitude, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby.” Deciding he had a point, though, about making it look like a real work emergency, when she got onto the road, she headed for the hotel to check things out.
A quick walk through the public areas of the hotel proved all was well with the wedding clean up, the restaurant, bar and spa. She veered back through the entry and then went up to her office. There was always a pile of work to do, so she’d take an hour or so to clear some of it out before returning home for the night.
Blake sat in front of the television in his suite, letting the news fill the silence as he tried to focus on forecasts for the Portland resort. Instead he kept seeing Lana sitting at the table with her sister, Vince and Jeremy. Why had he reacted like that? Did he really think she would start chasing someone else? Jeremy knew Blake and Lana had something going on—though no one knew the particulars. Except Alex, but as Lana’s father’s executor, he seemed to know more about everyone than any of them would have liked.
Like the fact that Blake was married to Lana. He wished he hadn’t let her convince him to keep their elopement to themselves. It was only supposed to be for a few days—a week at the most—but after their breakup neither had mentioned it to their families. He didn’t think even Cami knew about them.
Which brought him right back to Lana again, and their defunct relationship. Did he really think she would listen to him if he acted like some Neanderthal?
He pushed away the laptop and stood, crossing the room for a drink of water. As the cool liquid slid down his throat, his cell phone rang. The light tempo announced it was his mother. Blake sighed, then swallowed the last of the water as he fished the phone from his pocket.
“Good evening, Mother. How are you tonight?”
“We’re going to a party at Luther’s—it’s going to be terrific. All the best people will be there. What are you doing dear?” She frequently reminded him of the social opportunities he was “giving up” by working in the Colorado Rockies.
He looked around his sterile suite and wished he had something planned. Something that would satisfy her and get her off his back. “Nothing much, just taking care of some work issues and enjoying dinner.” He glanced at the bare
ly touched pizza that sat across the room. He doubted anyone would reference his lack of interest in food since his argument with his wife as enjoying it.
“Eating alone again, darling? Really, you need to get out more. That little town is hardly conducive to your meeting the right kind of woman. Did I mention Charity says hello?”
The sound of his father’s voice rang in the background, telling his wife they were nearly there and to get off the phone.
“Well, I ought to go, Blake. We’ll arrange to visit soon, okay? Maybe you can show me what’s supposed to be so great about the place.”
He could imagine the pinched look her face had taken on with that comment—it was the way she always looked when she disapproved of Blake’s decisions. And since she disapproved often, he’d seen it a lot.
He slipped into placation mode. “If nothing else, I’m sure you’ll love the spa. It’s first rate.” He spoke with forced enthusiasm. He didn’t know if he could handle his parents at the hotel right now, not with everything else that was going on.
“You should get a treatment as well. You know it’ll make you feel more relaxed. Then maybe you can attract the kind of woman a man from our family deserves. Bye, bye, sweetheart.” She hung up without giving him a chance to reciprocate.
Blake tossed the phone onto a nearby overstuffed chair and fished a soda out of the fridge. He desperately wanted a shot of whiskey—or three—but being on call meant he shouldn’t indulge. If he drank one, he might not stop there. And if there was one thing he was raised to be, it was a professional.
His eyes drifted to the wall safe and he thought of what was in it, then forced himself to look away—it would only remind him of what he’d lost. He thought of the hurt and anger in Lana’s eyes after he pulled her away from dinner, and felt that familiar tug of guilt. Damn it, he’d overreacted.
He took another fortifying swig of his soda and set it on the counter before heading for her office. She might not be there anymore, but if she was, he better apologize.