“Did he hurt you?”
“Not really. He was too busy crowing.” She gazed at him, her dark golden eyes wide, her cheeks streaked with dirty tears. Her face was a portrait of horror revisited. “Oh, Nick, he was so sick.”
But she was okay, he thought. Thank you, God, she was okay. He pulled her to him again and hugged her, too tightly, but he couldn’t help himself. It was over, Nick thought, finally over, and he waited for that sweet sense of relief to hit him.
Instead, a different kind of adrenaline rush kicked in, swiftly and without warning. Without thinking, Nick grabbed Carly by the shoulders and shook her. “Why the hell did you run out on me like that?” he said forcefully. “Do you know how frantic I was? I imagined all kinds of things.”
She stared at him, shocked. “Why are you yelling at me?”
“Because I was scared to death, dammit!”
Carly’s eyes widened. Then her mouth tightened into a stubborn line. The look of fury that came over her face took him by surprise. She jerked up her shoulders, effectively removing herself from his grip.
“Well, tough!” she retorted, her voice rich with anger as she scrambled awkwardly to her feet. “You were terrified? I’m the one he drugged and transported three thousand miles to get even with some drug lord. I’m the one he used and set up. I’m the one he kidnapped and took to this godforsaken place...and tried to force more drugs down me...and tried to rape me. I’m the one who’s been through hell!” Even with her hands behind her back, she managed to stand tall and proud. Her eyes spit fire.
Nick was stunned speechless. Carly? This was Carly? This genuinely enraged woman spewing nails at him? If she hadn’t been handcuffed, she’d have come after him with her claws.
“So,” she went on heatedly, “I refuse to stand here while you yell at me because you were scared to death. Take your temper out on someone else, got it? I’m sick to death of you and all the men I’ve ever known trying to make me into someone they could control. I’m tired of being on trial with you. I’m tired of being scared and playing it safe and, oh—all of it!”
She turned on her heel and stumbled toward Dom’s car. Dom had been leaning against the hood, his shotgun propped next to him, watching the whole thing. As Carly came toward him, he clapped his hands slowly. “Go get him, tiger,” he said admiringly.
At first, Nick was knocked for a loop by Carly’s outburst, but then, damned if he didn’t feel, well, kind of proud of her.
In fact, damned if he didn’t feel a smile forming on his lips. He wanted to laugh. In fact, he couldn’t help it, he did laugh. Loudly.
That got her attention.
She whipped around and glared at him. “What is so funny?”
He walked toward her, his gut shaking with mirth, his hands held out before him in supplication. “Sorry,” he mumbled through lips tight with trying to keep more hilarity from exploding out of him. When he reached her, he opened his arms, inviting her in.
She ducked out from under his attempted embrace. “What? I look cute when I’m angry? Go to hell.”
That did it. Nick lost the battle for control and erupted in loud, prolonged laughter, making him hold on to his sides as he did. It was probably aftershock and relief, he realized, and it wasn’t the best reaction to have, but dammit, she did look cute, with her face all flushed, those huge eyes of hers indignant with temper.
“I suggest you put a lid on it, Nick,” Dom said. “Carly’s pretty steamed.”
He tried to stop, but couldn’t seem to. “Yeah, I know, but—”
Sirens interrupted his reply. In moments, several L.A.P.D. police cars came screeching along the road, red lights flashing. Their arrival acted like cold water on Nick’s laughter, and he stopped abruptly.
Carly looked from Nick to the police cars and then glared again at Nick. “Maybe one of them can get me out of these damned handcuffs.”
The next several hours went by in a blur, but Carly got through them. After the handcuffs were removed, she was checked out for wounds, pronounced fit and hustled off to a large building near downtown Los Angeles where she was interviewed, her story tape-recorded. Then came the questions, which she answered over and over again until she was on the point of babbling incoherently. Nick wasn’t allowed in the interview room; if she longed for his presence at all, she was only dimly aware of it.
She’d been through a horrific ordeal and knew it. But she was so deeply exhausted, nothing much registered. All she was able to concentrate on were the questions and the answers.
When she emerged from the final interview, Nick was there, waiting for her across the corridor, leaning against a wall. His face was creased in lines of fatigue and concern. When he saw her, he straightened and stared at her. In his eyes, she read wariness and concern, but even those emotions scarcely registered.
“They said I can go,” she told him. She could barely get the words out, barely keep her eyes open. She was so very tired, it felt as though she might even be sleepwalking. “I told them everything I know and they said I can go.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Home.”
His jaw tensed up. “Home to Hull? Or home with me?”
Interesting question, she thought with a brain that felt as fuzzy as a crocheted afghan. Back to Hull, she supposed. That was home. But not right now.
She swiped a lock of hair back off her face. Even that much movement wore her out. “I’m dead on my feet, Nick. I need a bath and then I need to sleep.”
He seemed relieved, probably because she hadn’t asked him to buy her a plane ticket Nodding, he took her arm.
They went back to his place where he ran a bath for her, carried her into the tub, bathed her gently, dressed her in a long, clean T-shirt and tucked her into bed. Most of his actions felt like part of a dream. By the time he murmured good-night, she was already asleep.
Her sleep was restless at first. Images swirled through her dreams-Eddie Monk’s glassy-eyed stare, Demeter’s bloody head. Guns, trees, cliffs, being closed in. Nina smirking, posing, laughing. Richard’s dead body. Handcuffs. Pictures of little girls in pink dresses.
She awoke several times in panic, but each time Nick was there; he held her, soothed her, whispered words of comfort in her ear. Toward morning, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Wednesday afternoon
Consciousness returned slowly, but it returned. With it came the rich odor of fresh coffee and the drone of a faraway airplane. Light gleamed brightly—too brightly-behind her closed eyes, so she kept them shut for a while longer. She wanted to take stock before greeting the day.
The nightmare was over. Carly was safe, the bad guy was dead. She was rested, clean. Healed...to some degree, at least. It seemed to her that this must be how survivors of a major disaster must feel after the danger had passed-relief and gratitude, and just a small niggling sense of worry that it might start up all over again.
But, no, she assured herself. Eddie Monk was dead. Never again would she have to feel endangered by him and his sick, warped obsession for her sister.
Others were dead also. A fresh wave of sadness for Nina and Richard washed over her. But it was a clean sadness, not all murked up with guilt or fear or self-doubt. She would, as soon as she got back home, arrange for some sort of memorial for both of them, although just what kind she wasn’t...
As soon as she got back home. The phrase repeated itself, then reverberated in her head. Was that what she wanted to do? Go back home to Hull? Was that her next move? And if so, why was she suddenly gripped with an unbearable sense of loss and desolation?
“Good morning.”
Her eyes popped open to a room filled with bright California sunlight. Nick stood over her, staring down at her, the planes of his face tense with watchfulness.
Nick, she thought, and the sense of loss evaporated as quickly as it had arisen. Nick.
Nick was where she wanted to be.
Stretching her arms out to the side, she yawned luxuri
ously. “What time is it?”
“Two.”
“In the afternoon?”
“Yes. There’s coffee on the table. Want to sit up?”
Without waiting for her reply, he fluffed up the pillows and helped her into a sitting position. Wordlessly, he handed her the coffee then remained standing, studying her with his deep green gaze.
She seemed okay, Nick thought, rested, clear-eyed. But she might still be angry at him. Or worse. There had been indifference in her eyes when she’d come out of the interrogation room yesterday. Had it cemented, so that she was about to bounce up, thank him for the bed and board and hop on a plane back to Massachusetts?
No. Not acceptable, this he knew. This was one woman who was not walking out on him. She was too damned important to him. If she wanted to walk, he wouldn’t let her. She might put up a fight, but she’d lose.
As he felt his hands fisting at his side, Nick realized he was working himself into battle readiness and Carly was barely, awake. Calm down, he told himself. Take it slow.
Easier said than done. He’d been watching her all morning while she slept, wondering what he’d say to her, wondering how she’d take whatever he did say to her. By now he felt ready to jump out of his skin.
Carly emitted a long, loud sigh. “You know what, Nick? I feel spoiled. All you’ve done is take care of me.”
“You needed taking care of.”
She nodded her agreement. “Yes, I did.” She sipped her coffee, set it down on the night table, then smiled sleepy thanks at him.
He was brimming over with emotion. “I love you.”
It came out, just like that. He’d meant to lead up to it, dress it up, make it smoother, more confident-sounding, less desperate. But he’d blown it.
Carly’s reaction to his pronouncement was to go very still. Then she raised an eyebrow. “Well, now, isn’t that interest—”
Nick plowed ahead, determined to shoot down any arguments she might come up with before she even thought of them. “Look, I know it’s too soon-three days, right? I know it doesn’t happen this way, that forever feeling, so quickly, but—” he shrugged “—there it is. I... think we should get married.”
The smile left her face as her mouth dropped open. “Uh, Nick? Hold it just a minute—”
No way. He was too wound up, so he paced next to the bed. “Yeah, I’m going too fast, I know it. I’m willing to wait. We can—” he raked restless fingers through his hair “—I don’t know, go out on dates if you’d like. Although that feels a little backward, given the way we started. But, hey, I’m willing.”
“Nick, slow down—”
“Let me finish this. If I don’t get it out, I don’t know what will happen. Look, I know you hate cops, so you wouldn’t want to marry one, but I’m not going to be a cop.” He reached the foot of the bed, gripped the brass footboard tightly. “I’ve made my decision, Carly. I’m going to teach. Regular hours, no more danger, no more midnight raids, no more all-night stakeouts.”
“But you love your work. You love being a cop.” She seemed indignant for him, and it gave him hope.
“And I was a good one. But my body is telling me what my mind won’t let me hear. Between my hip and my knee—” He frowned, disgusted with himself. “I sound like some kind of cripple.”
“Trust me.” She bit her bottom lip, as though trying to hold back laughter. “You’re not a cripple.”
Her amusement barely registered because Nick was on a roll, desperate to get all of it out, to answer any and all objections she might have. “Anyhow—” He resumed pacing. “I like teaching, I’m good at it. And you know what? That adrenaline rush I used to get from the chase, from going after the bad guys? Now it’s more about the puzzle, about figuring it out in my head. And I think I can get the same rush from teaching, working with kids, you know?”
He looked over at her and she nodded. He went on. “I like that. Talking to the kid, Miguel, it was good for me. Made me see. Anyhow, there comes a time when you have to move on. And that’s now. I move on, I teach. I leave the old life and I make a new one—” he swallowed and looked right at her “—with you, I hope. And that’s it.”
Carly hardly knew what to say, what to do. Nick was acting in a way she hadn’t seen before. Talking and pacing and talking some more. It was as though—could it be?—he felt insecure. About her.
Her hand flew to her chest. She was moved, unbearably moved. “You take my breath away,” she said softly.
“Good.”
He came around to sit down next to her on the bed. His hands gripped her arms, tight. His eyes burned with green fire. “When that son of a bitch took you, when I thought you might be dead, I wanted to die.” The intensity of his voice matched his expression. “I knew then that I would sacrifice my life if it meant you lived. And that’s gotta be love. Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m in love, Carly, probably for the first time in my life.”
Suddenly, he released his grip on her and she fell back against the pillows. He raked his fingers through his hair, then muttered a curse. “I’ve never made a speech this long. Ever.”
Carly felt her eyes fill with tears; her heart filled, too, with love and compassion. The man was a wreck. Nick Holmes, strong, tough, man-of-few-words Nick was a complete and total, dithering wreck. And all because of her.
She could only shake her head in wonder. “It’s so strange. Most of the time—just yesterday, in fact—if you’d said this to me, I’d have said, me? How could I arouse so much emotion? Why would you want to marry me? I’m not interesting or sexy or even very brave.”
“Bull. You’re interesting and sexy and very very brave.” His jaw clenched with determination. “Do you love me?” he barked.
“Yes.”
His face filled with a mixture of happiness and relief, he reached for her. “Carly, I—”
She held up her hand for him to wait. “But I’m still a little terrified of your temper.”
He seemed surprised. “Really? You let loose pretty good yourself yesterday.”
She thought about that, then smiled, pleased with herself. “I did, didn’t I?”
It had been a sudden flare-up that had seemed to come out of nowhere, burned brightly for a short while, then extinguished itself. And it had felt absolutely wonderful.
“I guess I’d just been through so much, I suppose I snapped.” She remembered the next part, though, and felt irritated with him all over again. “Then you laughed at me,” she said accusingly.
Leaning one hand on the pillow next to her head, he tried to bite back a smile. Apparently, the memory made him want to laugh all over again. Already she sensed the change in him—now that he knew she returned his feelings, he was no longer ripped by insecurity. And she no longer felt as powerful.
Carly smiled, at herself now, at the direction of her thoughts. As if she could ever have power over Nick. As if he would let her. As if she would even want to.
She chuckled. Nick’s face lost all remaining traces of tension and he joined her. She held out her arms and he lay down next to her on the bed and they laughed together, cleansing, healing laughter. Afterward, they lay there in silence for a time. So much had been said, Carly thought. So much decided.
Nick emitted a satisfied sigh and rolled over onto his side so he faced her. “I know I have this temper, Carly,” he said. “I can work on it as much as possible, but it’s there. It’s how I blow off steam. But nothing happens after that. I don’t hit people, or lock little girls up in jails overnight. It’s just my way of getting rid of tension. If you wait around for about ten seconds, it’s gone.”
She played with the edge of the blanket. “I think I finally understand that.”
“Actually, I think we might get into some pretty interesting fights. Not all the time, but married people do fight, then they have a great time making up.” He smiled suggestively, then his gaze wandered lovingly over her face. There was so much tenderness in his eyes, she felt her heart shudder with emotion.
“Uh-uh,” he denied. “I’m going on instruments here.”
“You’re doing great.”
“Thank you.” He kissed her then, a sweet, loving kiss. When he pulled away, she gazed at him through tear-filled eyes.
“You are like someone I dreamed up,” she said.
“Is that good?”
“Very.”
“Well, I don’t know that I’ve ever dreamed about someone like you, but if I didn’t, I’m a fool. I’ve watched you change, Carly. The little scared rabbit who came into the kitchen wearing my robe and asking the name of the ocean outside my window-I don’t see anything left of that Carly.”
“She’s still there, trust me.”
“But you can never go back, not all the way. Not really.”
Carly wondered if what Nick said was right, because it felt right. She felt...liberated. She’d gone through some pretty rough times these past few days, then she’d stood up for herself, and nothing awful had happened. In standing up for herself, she’d escaped from a madman. In standing up for herself, something pretty special had happened. Nick.
It was her turn to explore his face. He had the sexiest green eyes, she thought. A mouth that knew all there was to know about pleasing a woman. She loved the way she could tell his mood from his jaw, its tension or lack of it. She’d known him such a short time, but gazing at him now, it felt as though they’d known each other forever. He was her soul mate and she was his. A feeling of total and complete well-being poured through her bloodstream like warm milk.
This was the man she loved, she knew it with a certainty that left no unanswered questions. It felt wonderful to love Nick. Totally wonderful.
Stroking his cheek with the back of her hand, she gave her own version of a suggestive smile. “Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “I’m done. Except for this. I love you. Tell me you love me.”
Her heart brimmed with more emotion than she knew what to do with. “Oh, Nick, how could I help loving you?”
While She Was Sleeping Page 24
