Sudden Attraction

by Rebecca York

  George wavered as he spotted Gabriella. When he pointed the gun toward her, Luke pulled his good hand from under the covers. He was holding a knife, and he threw it toward George. He was aiming for the center of the guy’s back, but his hand wasn’t as steady as it could be, and he hit the side of his back.

  Luke cursed, but he’d obviously done some damage.

  George screamed and staggered back, hitting the chair and pitching backward onto the floor, the knife going in deeper. He also squeezed the trigger, but the bullet plowed into the wall.

  Although Luke had leaped out of bed, he wasn’t in tip-top shape. As he changed rapidly from horizontal to vertical, he had to fight a wave of dizziness at the sudden movement.

  The clerk was blubbering, staring wide-eyed at the totally unexpected action around him like a man who had wandered into a war zone. The guy with the knife in his shoulder was trying to figure out who to shoot.

  “No!” Luke shouted as Gabriella charged toward George. She kept coming and stamped on the hand with the gun—hard.

  George screamed again as her foot ground into his palm.

  The move had given Luke precious seconds.

  Still he had to steady himself before snatching a lamp from the table, yanking the cord free as he barreled toward the gunman. With force born of blinding rage, he brought down the makeshift club on the guy’s head. George made a strangled sound and went still.

  “What the hell?” the clerk shouted, staring around him as though unable to believe any of what had just happened.

  “Call the police,” Luke said. “This guy tried to kill us yesterday.”

  “But you told me…”

  “A story. Because we were hiding out from him.”

  “He was robbing my mom’s house,” Gabriella added. “We caught him in the act, and he attacked us. But we got away.”

  Luke was thinking it didn’t all make perfect sense as he pulled on the shoes he’d left beside the bed. Still shirtless, he stepped out the door.

  “Wait!” the clerk shouted. “You can’t leave.”

  “Watch us.”

  “You’ve got to talk to the cops.”

  “No.” He turned to Gabriella. “Get in the car and start the engine.”

  She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Your shirt.”

  “Later.”

  When she hesitated, he closed his hand around her arm, trying to convey his urgency with silent words. No time to try and explain. We have to get away.

  She gave him a little nod, then left the room and crossed to the vehicle.

  When she’d climbed behind the wheel, Luke focused on the clerk again. “You were right here and saw the whole thing. Tell them what happened. And I’d cover him with the gun, in case he wakes up. Tell the cops his name is George.”

  As Gabriella started to pull out, Luke reconsidered his strategy, just in case George became functional. “Wait.”

  He took the gun they’d acquired the day before, leaned out the window and shot two of the tires on George’s vehicle, then shot at the engine block. When he pulled the trigger again, the gun clicked, and he made a face.

  “Empty.”

  “But he’s not leaving anytime soon,” she answered as Luke leaned back against the seat.

  “Go.”

  “Where?”

  He hadn’t planned that far ahead. All he could say was, “Away. Don’t speed.”

  As she drove toward town, he heard a police siren and cursed.

  “What should I do?” Gabriella asked.

  “Keep going like you’re minding your own business.”

  She did, at a steady pace, and the cop car sped past them with lights flashing.

  “They don’t know it’s us.”

  “Right.”

  He leaned back and closed his eyes. When he felt the vehicle turn and slow, he sat up and looked around.

  They were on a narrow road shaded by cypress trees.

  Gabriella pulled onto the shoulder and cut the engine.

  “What?”

  She gestured toward his bare chest. “You should put on a shirt.”

  He laughed. “Yeah.”

  He climbed out, opened the back door and reached for the bag he was glad he hadn’t brought into the motel. He had one more long-sleeved shirt. He’d have to get some more.

  Standing on the road, he buttoned the front, then tucked in the tails, glad that the action only caused minor pain.

  When he climbed back into the car, he saw Gabriella was shaking. Saw her skin was pale and her features drawn.

  “Luke,” she said in a barely audible voice.

  A wealth of emotions welled up inside him.

  He reached for her, and she came into his arms. He felt her fear, her relief, her confusion. And everything else that came with the contact.

  “Why didn’t you get out of there?” Luke asked.

  “I couldn’t leave you. I didn’t know if you had the strength to throw the knife.” She gazed up at him. “But you were so steady. Weren’t you…scared?”

  “You have to block the fear and do what you have to.”

  She nodded, and he folded her close again.

  “We…we…talked in our minds—when he was going to shoot.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Always before it was when we were touching, but we weren’t touching then.”

  “It must have been the danger. It must have juiced up the…connection between us.”

  “I thought we could use…the talent. I didn’t know how.”

  His hands slid restlessly up and down her back, and hers moved over him in the same jerky rhythm.

  He closed his eyes, blocking out everything but the woman in his arms, feeling desire build between them again. And feeling the mental bond between them strengthen. He couldn’t explain it. He only knew it existed. And it was pulling them closer together every time they touched. It made him crave her.

  But it wasn’t all good. He sensed that, sensed the edge of danger as her mind opened to his and his to hers. His head was pounding, and the only way to ignore the pain was to lower his mouth to hers.

  His lips moved against hers, the kisses turning hard and insistent as he told her how much he wanted her. Not just with his hands and mouth but in her mind.

  Oh, yes, she answered as she kissed him just as greedily. They could have died back there at the motel. But they had saved themselves.

  They clung together, celebrating their escape, celebrating what was to come. Yet the pain in his head was as insistent as his arousal.

  She wrenched her mouth away. “We have to stop.”

  “Why?”

  “This is a bad place to…try something new. We’re parked in a car on a one-lane road. In broad daylight. Somebody could come along.”

  “Details.”

  He eased away from her, and she stared at him. “Does your head hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mine, too. What does it mean?”

  “Maybe that the mental stuff builds up…pressure.”

  “And I think we can deal with it better…somewhere private.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, like a nice bedroom.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m thinking the best place to get lost is in the city.”

  “Okay.”

  “But not your apartment.”

  “You think…George is still going to be after us?” she asked as she started the car, then found a place to turn around.

  “I don’t know, but I think we have to work under the assumption that he is—until we get confirmation that he can’t get to us.”

  She dragged in a breath and let it out. “I’d like to assume we’re safe, but I think you’re right.”

  “His name really is George.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I called him that. He was astonished—and angry.”

  “Score one for us.”

  As they drove back toward New Orleans, he tried to think about their situation from all angle
s, and he didn’t like the conclusions he was forming.

  Finally, he said, “We can’t use credit cards. That’s going to be a problem at any big hotel chain.”

  “Why?”

  “He could trace your name. And he knows my alias, too.”

  “How?”

  “I guess he checked me out before he went after your mom.”

  She took her eyes from the road for a moment and studied him. “Where did you learn to think like a criminal?”

  “By writing about them.”

  He could see her trying to come up with a plan. If he reached for her, he might find out what was churning in her mind, but in his present condition, he thought it might be better to keep his hands to himself.

  “I know an apartment we can use,” she said.

  “Whose?”

  “Emily Philips, one of the restaurant staffers, is out of town. She won’t mind if we use her place.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “She’s thinking about moving to another city, and we talked about her maybe subletting it to me. If she moves, I’d be doing her a favor. She said I could stay there and see how I liked it.”

  “You’ve already got a place.”

  “This would be a step up.”

  “Okay.”

  She kept driving toward the city, into the edge of the French Quarter near the French Market, which was a few blocks from Emile’s restaurant.

  “How are we going to get in?”

  “Her key is on top of the door frame.”

  “Not very secure.”

  “I assume George isn’t there waiting for us.”

  “Yeah. Not unless he got away from the local cops and got his knife wound treated. Also, probably a concussion.”

  She winced. “I didn’t even know you had a knife before we figured out that escape plan at the motel.”

  “It makes a nice silent weapon.”

  “If you know how to use it.”

  “We’re leaving a trail of destruction behind us. Like that motel lamp.”

  “We’ll take care of that when we’re in the clear,” he answered.

  “If we ever are.”

  “Have faith. Right now our job is to get off the street. What if Emile saw you?”

  She laughed. “Maybe he’d go after me with one of the kitchen knives. He’s had plenty of practice cutting up chickens.”

  “You’re no chicken.”

  She drove around in back of the pastel green stucco building to the alley and parked in an empty slot. Then she led him to the back door of a small apartment building. Inside, they climbed to the second floor, where she went to one of the units and felt along the top of the door frame until she found a key. “See?”

  Inside, she started to call her friend’s name, but Luke put a restraining hand on her arm.

  “Wait here.”

  He walked through the rooms, gun in hand, checking closets and behind furniture. They were out of bullets, but the weapon would intimidate anyone he encountered.

  It was a large apartment with a living room/dining room combination open to the kitchen, a bathroom and a bedroom. The furnishings looked as if they could have been collected from various flea markets, but it was put together with charm. All in all, a pretty good place to hide out.

  And clearly George wasn’t waiting for them.

  GEORGE CAMDEN HAD HIS own problems at the moment. The good news was that he wasn’t in a jail cell. Instead, when he opened his eyes, he saw a bunch of hospital monitoring equipment.

  Nice of the cops to take him here. Where he could escape, as soon as he had enough strength. Because for the moment he was feeling like crap.

  That jerk Luke Buckley had gotten the drop on him by bringing a knife to a gunfight. George would have laughed at the old joke, except that the joke was on him.

  It had turned out to be the right move, a nasty surprise for George, but Buckley was also wounded. Which counted for something on their personal score sheet. Although obviously he hadn’t been in as bad shape as he’d been pretending at the beginning.

  His musings were interrupted when the door opened and a nurse came in, followed by a cop. George looked at the guy through slitted eyes, pretending he was still out of it while he got the lay of the land.

  One cop. Was there another in the hall?

  The nurse checked his vital signs, and he groaned when she turned him so she could change his bandage. It hurt like hell. He needed a smoke to calm his nerves, but he sure wasn’t going to get one here.

  His head felt fuzzy. Probably they’d given him something for the pain. Which was good for the time being, but he’d have to get off the meds before he made his escape.

  As he listened to the cop and the nurse talking, he realized he had an advantage. Nobody was absolutely sure what had happened back at the motel. Gabriella and Buckley might be in the wrong. They’d certainly registered under an assumed name, and their story had been hinkey.

  When the motel clerk had asked them to hang around, they’d fled, which made them look guilty of something.

  George hadn’t been carrying identification, so the cops didn’t know who he was at all. At least not yet. If they’d checked his fingerprints, the information hadn’t come back yet. But how much time did he have before they nailed him?

  When the nurse and the cop left, he tried to get comfortable. For the moment, the whole incident presented a nice little puzzle for the Podunk Police Department. His mind started scrambling. Maybe he could spin some kind of story that would get him out of here—as soon as he was well enough to travel.

  Of course, he didn’t know exactly where Gabriella and Buckley had gone, but he figured they didn’t have too many options. Houma was probably a good bet, unless they had enough cash to get out of the country.

  Chapter Nine

  In the bedroom, Luke turned around to find Gabriella standing behind him.

  “Put down the gun,” she said, her voice not quite steady.

  They had known each other only for days, but it might as well have been a lifetime. Getting inside each other’s minds had been a shortcut to intimacy. So had the danger swirling around them.

  They had been on the verge of making love before, but it had never been the right time. Now it was.

  When he reached for her, she came into his arms, sighing as her body pressed against his.

  A question circled in her mind. You’re sure you’re okay?

  “Yeah, better than okay. Now.”

  He knew she caught all the wealth of meaning below the surface of the words, knew she was tuned to him in a way he didn’t understand. But he also knew they had crossed some kind of barrier that had always separated them from the rest of humanity. A whole new world was open to them.

  Yet they were both nervous about taking the next step because they were leaping off into the unknown.

  Together, she reminded him, then spoke aloud, “This is better than that dismal motel room for the first time we make love.”

  He didn’t have to say anything to give her his agreement. She knew they were on the same wavelength.

  In the car, after they’d escaped from the motel, their kisses had been frantic. He didn’t want it to be that way now. He wanted this to be slow—perfect.

  “It will be,” she answered.

  He lowered his head. She raised hers, and their lips met. He wanted it to be gentle, and he managed to keep it that way, but below the movement of his lips against hers, he felt passion building.

  When they came up for air, they were both trembling.

  “You need to get off your feet,” she murmured.

  “We will.”

  They both walked toward the bed in the center of the room. She crossed to the far side, and together they turned down the covers.

  When she came back to him, he gave her a warm look. Again, he knew she followed his thoughts. He didn’t want to touch her. Not yet.

  Boldly she pulled her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra.

&nbs
p; He caught his breath as she tossed it away, revealing her gorgeous breasts.

  His mouth was so dry he could barely speak, but he managed to say, “You are so beautiful.”

  “I want to be. For you.”

  He pulled off his shirt, wincing when he had to move his arm.

  When she started to speak, he shook his head. “Nothing is going to stop us this time.”

  “When I was bandaging your arm, I didn’t tell you how much I love your chest. It’s so nice and broad. If I’m beautiful, so are you.”

  “You don’t mind chest hair?”

  “It’s part of the appeal for me. I’m going to enjoy the way it feels.”

  The comment made his mouth go even dryer. “Against your breasts?” he asked, his voice thick.

  “Yes. And my fingers,” she answered with a smile that made the blood pump hotly through his veins.

  They were both in a hurry, but neither one of them was going to rush. When she reached for the button at the top of her pants, he did, too. He undid his belt, lowered his zipper, watching her as she did the same, then pulled down her slacks and panties at the same time.

  He kept his gaze on her body as he slicked his pants down his legs, doing the same thing she had—getting rid of the rest of his clothing quickly.

  He watched her take in his body and the erection standing out with serious intent.

  She smiled. “You’re in good shape.”

  “Except for a little problem with my arm.”

  They were teasing each other, building up the level of heat without touching. But it was more than teasing.

  He grinned at her, then felt his expression turn serious as he reached for her.

  She came into his arms, the shock of naked skin to naked skin almost taking his breath away. With a gasp, she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him to hold on to her sanity.

  That was a strange way to put it, but he knew it was true.

  The pressure in his head was back. Only now it felt as if some animal with claws was inside his skull, trying to dig its way out.

  He shuddered at the image, and might have thrust her away from him, but he understood that if they lost their nerve and let go of each other now, it would be worse, much worse. The only way to cope was to see this through.