The Throwbacks
Page 29
“Then let’s make it a night neither of us will ever forget.” He spoke quietly, but confidently, as if he never meant anything more.
Noodles barked. They moved apart a fraction at the same time, not exactly jumping. The nerve-tingling sensation she felt suddenly changed over to excitement in a flash of anticipation.
“Your place or mine?” he said.
“Why don’t I make Noodles comfortable in my room, and then I’ll come over to yours?” She breathed deep to stop the dizzying knowledge that she was to have him at last.
He was reluctant to let her go, to have her leave his breathing space even for a moment. He told himself it was not because he thought she’d change her mind. He gave up any further pretense at being noble—at least for this night.
In spite of the heady feelings he had now, he was confident that his noble spirit would return in the morning. He let her go while one hand lingered on her arm and trailed down to the tips of her fingers as she walked away.
He waited for her to scoop up her pup and close the door behind her with a sultry look over her shoulder at him. Now he couldn’t decide if he should try and calm his thunderous heart or go with the excitement of the night and not slow down. One thing was for sure, he thought as he strode into his room, leaving the door ajar, he was going to make the most of every second of this night. To hell with sleeping and any other consideration save making sweet wild passionate love to Grace. Until the very second they parted.
Later on as she lay next to him, he tightened his arms around her and she finally kicked off her heels. They stared at each other with one of those deep, soul-searching stares.
“I’m so in love with you.” She said the words on a sigh.
“I could feel it.”
“I could feel it too—I mean your love—I could feel your love,” she managed to say. She watched the twitch in his mouth that meant he was amused.
“Good. Then all my efforts were not wasted,” he said.
She couldn’t help the giggle from escaping. It was a contented giggle. He gave her a feathery kiss on her lips and closed his eyes. Grace snuggled into the circle of his arms, more content than she could ever remember being in her entire life, and she fell asleep.
Chapter 21
DAVID had forgotten all about going to Boston police headquarters to give their statements until the shrill sound of the phone woke him. He sat up, or tried to, but was hampered. He took a long look at Grace as she slept on his arm. He grew warm. Her face had that peacefully gorgeous and innocent look in sleep. He wondered how she could sleep through the phone ringing. He reached for it and grabbed the clunky earpiece from the receiver.
“Inspect…David Young here.” It was the first time in the last two years that he’d lapsed into the old role. He took it as a good sign, a sign of restored confidence. He gazed again at the heart-stoppingly beautiful woman stirring on his pillow and understood it was all because of her.
“I covered for you last night—but you better get your ass down here within thirty minutes or we’re both fried. The press conference is in an hour,” Dan said, and hung up the phone. David took one last moment to pause and breathe deeply, taking in the musky air surrounding them. It smelled of Grace and of their mingled scents borne of a night of lovemaking. The intoxicating smells took hold, and he acknowledged that it was his one last time to enjoy even that deep breath.
Grace opened her eyes and looked angelic in her momentary euphoria. If he’d expected a return to feeling noble, then he was greatly disappointed now. He felt more of the devil incarnate about to bludgeon the perfect happiness from the beautiful face of the woman he loved.
He was in love with her. That explained everything.
“Good morning, love.” She reached her hand up to caress his face.
“That was Dan. They’re expecting us momentarily at HQ to give those statements we were supposed to give last night.” He said the words kindly and gently.
She popped up with an admirable quickness. “Oh! That’s right.” Then she smiled that angelic smile. “I’d forgotten all about it. Naturally. Who could blame me? I was too enthralled—making love with the love of my life.” She reached to put her arms around him, and a pain stabbed at his heart. So this was what it was like. What all those poets railed and ranted about in all their sonnets. This was the heart ravaged by love lost. All those years he thought he’d known all about it. He’d thought he was tough. But he never really had an inkling until this moment.
He pulled back, disengaging her arms and cleared his throat to say the mean, cowardly words he had to say. That’s what he knew he was now—a coward, and not noble in the least. Though it would be worse to wait for the inevitable demise of their relationship later, he was too much of a coward to give them a chance at having something worthwhile between now and then.
He thought these thoughts while looking at her adoring dewy young face, and knew what he had to do. She was too young to know what she’d be giving up. The urgency to get it done suddenly overwhelmed him. He forced his words out in a crusty voice.
“Grace, we had a night that I’ll treasure always.” Then he turned away from her unsure face before it turned pain-stricken. He swept back his covers and rose from the bed. He strode to the bathroom, naked, with his back to her.
But he heard her fall back into her pillows and the muffled sob that she couldn’t stop from rising. He closed the door with an unhurried but solid click and stood. He refused to look in the mirror. It may be a long time before he looked in a mirror. He made a note to have all the mirrors removed from his townhouse.
It would be hell shaving every morning, but it would be a well-deserved hell.
David closing the door on her felt like being tossed into hell for eternity. The only thing that wrenched her from the hellish depths of her physical pain was the horror of facing him like this. Her bravery of last night, to consign herself to only one night with David before parting, was now gone. She couldn’t have predicted how much more deeply in love she would become overnight, no matter how glorious she’d imagined that night to be.
She pushed herself from the bed and gritted her teeth. She eyed the door where he’d disappeared, then the door where she would leave, as if measuring her escape. Now that was all she sought to do, as if escaping his physical presence might help erase the pain he’d caused. But that wasn’t exactly fair. She knew she couldn’t blame it all on him. He’d given her the chance to walk away last night and several times before that, after all.
But she’d never been capable of walking away from him from the minute she first saw him across the room. She’d been destined to throw herself at him and beg for his love and only hope. He’d given his love, after all. She knew he loved her with gut-twisting certainty and no solace whatsoever.
Now she half stumbled, half ran out of his bedroom, naked. She ran through the suite to her room, where Noodles waited for her. Her heart gave a leap at the thought that her beloved pup was all she really had, but she admonished herself for it. She had a family—people who loved her—and they would help her.
She patted her Noodles, promising to take her from this place as she threw clothes into her bags, sorting out her most business-like gray empire dress that wasn’t too snug and throwing it over her head. She brushed her teeth, washed her face and only made a quick attempt to comb her hair. She put Noodles in her large shoulder sack and wheeled her suitcase to the door. When she got there, she heard David’s bathroom door open and a charge of adrenaline went through her. She flew into the hall and pulled the suite door closed behind her hard. She ran down the hall to the elevator as if a monster were chasing her. She hadn’t felt this terror since she was a child. Once she was in the elevator, she leaned against the wall and breathed in and out, dizzy and nauseous.
David was no monster. She was running from her own folly. The self-knowledge calmed her and slowed her racing heart, but it did nothing to ease the sickening emptiness in her soul.
It wasn’t un
til Grace sat behind the wheel of her car and pulled into traffic, ready to turn her wheel in the direction of her studio apartment, that she remembered she no longer lived there. Mabel had invited her to stay with her. She needed to go there now to shower and collect herself, and feed Noodles and leave her for the day.
They expected her at police headquarters now to give a statement, and after that she needed to go to her office. But at the end of the day, she had no home of her own to go to. She felt the terrifyingly familiar pang that she felt the day she’d left the orphanage when it closed. Pixie and her family had taken her in then. She sighed.
She would go to Mabel’s. The thought was not as comforting as it should have been. She was no kid any more. Then she felt a fresh panic. Mabel was David’s real aunt and only her adopted one. What if David forced his aunt to choose sides? Who would she choose?
The stoplight turned green and she had to decide which way to go: to her office or to Mabel’s. She swung the car right and headed to Mabel’s townhouse, purposely raising her chin and daring life to throw her another punch. As she approached Mabel’s street, her cell phone rang and she answered it.
“David called me—I hope you’re on your way over here right now,” Mabel said with worry in her voice.
“I’ll be pulling up out front in a minute. I’m desperate for hot coffee and a hot shower.” And the comfort of a dear friend, she thought. She hoped she’d kept the real desperation from her voice. Her chin was still up when she walked through the door, hugging Noodles tightly and lugging her suitcase, which was now her portable home.
Marsha let her in and took Noodles from her arms, giving her a sweet, knowing smile. Grace decided she was better off not talking about anything right now. She would need to keep her composure at least until after she gave her statement. She hurried through her shower and threw on some clothes rather carelessly—a pair of straight charcoal slacks and a raspberry cashmere sweater with a portrait collar and a bow. While she’d been showering, Dan called her and left a message that he’d appreciate it if she could arrive before the news conference.
Looking at her watch, she realized she had zero time and dashed out the door with a jacket, deciding to run on foot in spite of her low-heeled boots. Disheveled, she arrived at the station as the news conference was scheduled to start.
When Grace found that the chief wasn’t in his office, she followed the crowd to the conference room, where countless cameras, photographers and newsmen and women were crowded and buzzing with phones.
Grace sneaked into the back of the room and stood among some uniformed men. There were a number of people on the small stage standing behind the podium laden with a dozen microphones. Dan, David, Rick, Theresa and Nick were among them. She recognized the governor, Peter John Douglas, and his wife, standing behind Rick and Theresa. There were several others, including the FBI ASAC and a few assorted law enforcement types, who walked in from a door at the back of the stage.
Grace took a seat in one of the several empty chairs in a back row. The mayor was the last one to take the stage. Then there was a hush.
She guessed it was the mayor’s show—his public relations guy introduced him and he took his place at the podium. The crowd clapped, and Grace saw Theresa’s face beaming with excitement as her father introduced her and Rick.
As the room continued to fill, a man with blurry thick glasses, a bad gray toupee and moustache sat next to her. “Who wears a gray toupee?” she asked herself incredulously, trying not to stare.
And then she answered her own question: a man in disguise.
“Oscar!” she whispered, now staring openly.
He squeezed her arm and shushed her. “Mabel’s Marsha told me where to find you—and about your homeless state—so I thought I’d drop in and see you for myself. What happened?”
“A lot’s happened in the last…eleven days.” She looked down at her hands as one of the FBI guys spoke in a monotone about the details of the case, most of which she was familiar with.
“That’s all it’s been?” He shook his head. “We were together six months,” he said.
“Together, yes…but not completely together,” she said, because for some reason she needed to make that distinction to herself. There’d been no one else like David.
“I know we were never physically—” he started to say. Grace looked up at his face and saw that it had turned thunderous. “You don’t mean that you and he…?” He said it in a dead whisper.
In spite of the fact that she knew it would make Oscar livid, she nodded to confirm his suspicion. Yes, they had made love. And their one glorious night was worth more than a lifetime of good times with Oscar—or anyone else, for that matter.
“He’s a dead man,” Oscar said with alarming finality. He started to rise.
She grabbed his arm with a protective panic and a surge of strength.
“No!” She hadn’t meant to say it so loud. She looked up at the stage, where the FBI guy had stopped speaking.
“I see we have one more distinguished participant in the resolution of the case here in the audience.” The man, she now realized, had been introduced as the SAC. The ASAC and the younger FBI agent stood with him and Dan and David. David’s face was implacable. The crowd murmured as she sat frozen, with Oscar sitting still as if he’d turned to a lump of petrified wood next to her.
“Please stand—Grace, is it?” The ASAC leaned in and whispered something to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Ms. Grace Rogers, who was instrumental in assisting the police and others in developing leads in the case and who participated in the actual rescue of our kidnap victim, Theresa Torini.”
“She’s my new best friend!” Theresa shouted out over the applause as Grace stood with her knees bent, self-consciously trying to angle herself to shield Oscar from view of most of the room.
She nodded and smiled as she looked around the room, waved at Theresa, and then sank back down before she dared to turn to Oscar. He now looked like a block of frozen nitrogen with the cloud of steamy and incredulous anger emanating from him in waves. She didn’t know if it was aimed at her for drawing attention to him in a room full of law enforcement agents, or if it was aimed at David because he had theoretically betrayed Oscar’s trust by theoretically taking advantage of her.
She figured it would be easier to face Oscar than David right now, so she lifted her head to look at him. “Don’t worry,” she leaned in and whispered, “they’ll never know it’s you.”
“I’m not worried about getting ID’d. But David is damn lucky he’s surrounded by a bunch of feds and cops right now,” he whispered back harshly.
She hoped it was bluster and knew they couldn’t possibly have this discussion here. But she had to say something.
“It was all my idea, Oscar. He was a saint and I wanted him—even though I knew it was for only one night,” she said. That was all she could say. All there was to it really. She watched his face for a sign of softening while the crowd applauded Dan’s introduction. Oscar paid no attention to the stage and looked at her for a moment, studying her before he replied.
“Even if I believe you, which I’m not sure I do since I know the lengths you would go to protect the reprobate, it doesn’t let him off the hook for taking advantage of your young soul. He’s an old soul like me and he should know better.”
But she could tell much of the anger had gone out of him. She gave him a small smile and reached over to squeeze his hand. She stared at her lap and listened to Dan speak.
Dan introduced Nick Racer as alive and well and gave him credit for his part in solving the crime. “Nick will be returning to New York City—where he will no longer be working undercover—but that’s just as well.”
They both looked up at the stage because Dan was about to introduce David. The crowd took on a hush. It was time she faced him.
Their eyes met, and instead of the implacable look she expected, she saw pain. And then he looked away from her and smiled at his audience as
Dan sang his praises.
“…with an ingenious strategy and eye for detail—not to mention a fearlessness only a chief of Scotland Yard’s Flying Squad would possess, ninety-nine percent of the credit for resolving this kidnapping, homicide and smuggling operation goes to David Young. Proudly, he now belongs to the Boston Police Department as the Chief of the Scotland Yard Exchange Program.” Dan gave the podium to David.
“Of course, my best friend since boyhood was bound to give me the credit, but as with any successful endeavor, it was the team. You’ve already heard of one unsung hero, but there’s another whose help has been invaluable, and he knows who he is. I won’t bore you with the details of the rescue,” he said tongue in cheek, with the expected shouts from the crowd, and so he told the story in fascinating detail. The room was pin-drop silent as they listened to him, and Grace, unfortunately, couldn’t tear her eyes away.
Oscar pinched her arm and she snapped her head around. He was watching her watch David, and his frown told her what he thought. He took her arm to stand her up, and they sidestepped their way to the end of the row, both hunched over to try to remain inconspicuous. When they made it to the back door and out into the hall, she practically ran for the elevator, dragging Oscar behind her.
“Thank you for rescuing me from my maudlin self.”
“Where to now?”
“My office,” she said without a second thought. She was determined to stay calm and think ahead. To re-think her future without David, and without the picket-fenced yard surrounding her playing children if need be.
“Not a good place. Not right now. I don’t want to leave you like this, and I know you won’t come away with me. I’m scheduled to fly out shortly. And needless to say, I can’t be late.”
They got on the elevator just as the people emerged from the conference room in a burst of noise. Their doors closed and she heaved a breath.