Sweet Seduction Serenade

by Nicola Claire

  I groaned. "Nick!" He started chuckling and took a step back.

  "Bathroom's through there, angel," he pointed to a door off the side. "Get yourself cleaned up and meet me at control. Just knock on the door and Eric will let you in." Then he was gone, on silent and swift feet, out of the room.

  I took my time in the bathroom, just to get my head on straight again. Being near Nick was intoxicating, it clouded my mind like a bottle of Tequila on an empty stomach. I was drunk on this man, but I had serious things to face up to. Dad didn't look good on that monitor screen in ASI's control and Nick had said time was running out for him now. I'd known for a while that this was coming, but facing him today was not going to be any easier for that fact.

  How could he mean so much to me, when he'd been absent most of my life? I used to feel like a sucker for caring, when it was obvious he didn't share that sentiment at all. But lately I'd been wondering if I'd got it all wrong. Dad didn't show he cared. He was rough and gruff and didn't waste time on superfluous emotions, but I'd seen something different these past three months. At first it was easy to ignore, but just before I returned to Nashville it was getting harder and harder to deny.

  My Dad was who he was; unapologetically surly, harsh and abrupt. Coming from a trash background, he too had been subject to his upbringing. But there was something there I hadn't witnessed before. Something bitter-sweet and full of... not exactly care, but an emotion close to it. Love? At least the kind of love Ray Rowe was capable of.

  I found myself smiling at that thought. I didn't kid myself though, Dad would never come out and say he loved me to my face. I guess that's why I craved it so much from Nick. No matter what, no matter how far I had come to accepting my father for who is was, I still craved his love. His acknowledgement of it. And, unfortunately, I'd always crave that acknowledgement from Nick too.

  The only problem was, I wasn't entirely sure I'd ever get it. Nick wasn't my father, but there were parts of his character that were familiar. His gruff attitude at times, his dominance - and OK, Nick's dominance tended to be most noticeable in the bedroom and there was no way I was comparing that to my Dad - and the way he spoke. How many times had I heard my father swear? Pepper his dialogue with four letter words. Nick wasn't much better. And yet it was part of what I found appealing about Nick.

  Nick was all male. Oh God, was he all male. And didn't I just love that.

  Nothing says cowboy more than a rough, gruff, confident and compelling man.

  I took a deep breath in, finished re-braiding my hair and checked myself in the bathroom mirror. Time to face the music. And there'd be music, because I wasn't entirely sure I could say what needed to be said aloud. But I could sing it. My Fender was going with me to see my Dad. I only wished I had my Martin. Everything sounded better on a Martin.

  I knocked on the door to control and the camera did its whirring thing above me, I smiled and waved like a dork, and when the door clicked pushed it open and stepped inside. There were more people here than I had expected. A couple of obvious ASI guys - all black clothing, essential ASI paraphernalia on their thick leather belts - that I didn't recognise, but two I did. Eric, of course, at his monitors, doing what he does best. And Adam. My stalker.

  But no Nick.

  "Hi," I managed.

  "Hey, Eva babe," Eric said, without looking over his shoulder. "Nick said he'd be here in a tick, he's just sorting Katie and a new window for her car out."

  I frowned and felt my head tip down towards the ground. That would be the window of her car that my cousin Leo shot out on my other cousin, Levi's, instruction. I let a long breath of frustrated air out.

  "Hey, cowgirl," Adam said softly from just in front of me. My eyes flicked up to his deep blue ones. He smiled gently at me, but kept his distance. "You've got yourself a security detail for your trip to see your Dad."

  "Oh?" I said surprised. I'd thought it was just going to be Nick and me. I guess they were leaving nothing to chance.

  "Yeah, this is Brook Osborne and Koki Tanaka." He pointed at the two ASI guys I didn't yet know, they both smiled back from handsome faces. Brook had the most amazing salt and pepper hair, on a guy so young and handsome, it was striking. And Koki was of Japanese decent, with dark hair, caramel skin and piercing black eyes. Again striking. What was it with these ASI men? Both had broad shoulders and thick muscles and took up way more space in the room than should have been physically possible. I nodded toward them, but returned my attention to Adam's feet. "We'll be following you and Nick, but keeping a distance once you get there."

  "Is this really necessary?" I felt I had to ask, even if I was sure of the answer already.

  "Yeah, Eva. It is." Just like Ben had said at the airport. I shook my head and let another breath of air out. "I know this hard, cowgirl, but we'll do everything we can to keep you and your Dad safe. 'K?"

  "'K," I whispered, just as the door clicked open and Nick walked in. He took one look at Adam standing so close, towering over my bent head, and one look at my down-turned frowning face and he was standing between us.

  "You guys head out to the cars, we'll be down in a minute." His voice was clipped, commanding. Accepting no argument. He didn't get one either. Brook and Koki headed straight for the door and Adam made a grunting sound, which could have been an agreement or a protest, it was hard to say. The door clicked shut behind them and Nick was in my space.

  "What happened?" he asked, jaw clenched. "Why was Adam so close?"

  I blinked at him, taking in the rigid stance, twitching blood vessel in his neck and frosty ice-blue gaze.

  "He was telling me about the security detail. It took me by surprise." I thought it best to put him out of his misery. But I had to admit to a small amount of pleasure at his reaction. Pathetic, but true.

  "Ah," Nick said, reaching up a hand and cupping the back of my neck. "You OK, angel?"

  I nodded. A blatant lie. He obviously could tell as he sighed, leaned forward and kissed my forehead softly.

  "Hang in there, babe," he whispered against my skin, then pulled back releasing me as he turned to one of the nearby tables scattered with electronic equipment. "This the taser?" he asked Eric.

  "Yeah, all charged, ready to go."

  "You wearing a belt, Eva?" Nick asked, turning back to me. "Or taking a handbag?"

  "Belt," I answered. I wasn't much of a handbag kind of girl.

  "OK, then. Lets get this threaded on there. Officially an ASI operative now," he added with a twitch of his lips and a wink.

  "Ooh, does that mean we get to haze her?" Eric asked, spinning around in his chair to watch Nick thread the taser in its holder onto my belt. He purposely brushed his fingers along the inside edge of my denim skirt. My heart fluttered unashamedly. "Or is that what you were doing in your office when the cameras jammed?"

  "You don't like your job much, do you, Shaw?" Nick asked, giving him a hard stare.

  "Just askin', boss," he said cheerily as he swung back towards the screens. "Jason's just arrived in the garage. He coming with you lot too?"

  "No, I want him to keep tabs on Katie," Nick replied.

  "He's gonna love that assignment," Eric muttered under his breath.

  "What?" Nick demanded, giving me a pat on the rear to indicate the belt and taser were all done.

  "Nothing," Eric sing-songed. I watched Nick narrow his eyes on Eric, but he didn't push any further, instead he turned to me and shifted his face into a smile.

  "Come on, angel. Lets go serenade your Dad."

  It didn't surprise me that he knew what I'd be doing. Nick had "got me" from the moment we first met. Right down to needing to go off and follow my dreams, all those years ago. I mentally shook my head at that epiphany. He'd been right back then, we had needed to do our separate things. We may have fallen for each other - well at least I fell head over heels for him that night - but we weren't ready to be together.

  I just hoped he felt the same as me; that we were meant to be together now.


  Then I tamped down on that emotion, knowing nothing was that easy in my life - especially with loser cousins who could still take it all away.

  The trip to the hospice didn't take too long, I'm unsure how far it was, but the enormity of what lay ahead seemed to eat into the miles, making the journey over before it had even begun. We pulled up outside the hospice, no sign of our shadow ASI men anywhere, but I was certain they weren't far away.

  "Keep your hand on your taser, ready to draw if needed," Nick instructed brusquely as he turned the ignition off. "Wait for me to open your door. If anything happens before I reach your side of the car, lock the doors and hit star one on the phone to get further directions from Eric." He didn't wait for my obvious arguments, just slipped out of his door and swiftly walked around my side of the SUV. His eyes alert, his gait purposeful, his whole demeanour: don't-fuck-with-me.

  I sighed, flicked the cover off the taser in its holster and leapt out of the vehicle when he opened my door. I half expected something to happen. Nick was so uptight, left hand clenched around the handle of my guitar case, leaving his right resting on the hilt of his gun at his belt. He nodded to me to proceed him inside the gate and up to the door. No hands free to take one of mine. He was so tense, taking this so seriously, that there was no way my cousins weren't about to attack.

  My heart was beating ridiculously fast inside my chest, sweat had begun to track its way down between my shoulder blades and a film of it graced the top of my lip. I licked them nervously, wanting to look around the street as Nick was, but knowing it was futile. I needed all my concentration to make it up the path and through the open door without tripping. I was shaking all over by the time we made it into the security vestibule and mentally cursing Levi Russell and his siblings from here to Timbuktu. I was sure all of this would give me an ulcer. And it was doing nothing for the wrinkles becoming permanent fixtures on my forehead. I was ageing beyond my years all because of my relatives, and didn't that just suck?

  Nick shut the door behind us and pressed a buzzer on an intercom beside the closed door across the way. A disembodied voice sounded through the speaker.

  "Name, person you're visiting and ID up to the camera lens please."

  "Nicholas Anscombe; Anscombe, Securities and Investigations with Evangeline Rowe for Raymond Rowe," he rattled off succinctly and held up his ID to the camera for them to identify.

  "ID for Evangeline Rowe," the voice instructed.

  I fished my passport out of my back pocket and held it open up to the screen. A few seconds passed, then the door clicked open and we made our way inside.

  Nick quietly said to no one in particular, "We're through."

  I looked at him sideways and he reached up and tapped his ear, where a device rested that I hadn't noticed before. He was clearly communicating with Eric at ASI control.

  "How come I didn't get one of those?" I asked, trying to lighten the moment a bit.

  Nick smiled at me, then the smile immediately vanished and he shook his head.

  "Eric says he'd gladly fit you with one when we get back. Of course, my standard reply to that is over my dead body."

  "But I'd like a spy gadgetry thingymajiggy," I added with an innocent wide-eyed look.

  "Then I'll fit you with it," Nick ground out, leading the way across the empty space to a reception desk.

  "Hello, Mr Anscombe," a large male nurse said in friendly greeting. The voice matching the speaker one, but seeming so much more alive now in person.

  "Hi, Gerry," Nick replied just as familiarly. "How's he doing today?"

  My stomach flipped and Nick automatically reached over to clasp my hand, no longer needing to be ready to make a quick draw now we were safely inside the secured facility.

  Gerry's eyes flicked to mine, full of sympathy. "Not so good, I'm afraid. You should prepare for the worst. Some time today or tomorrow, we suspect."

  Oh my God. So soon? How was that possible and why didn't I rush here as soon as we landed?

  "Eva," Nick said, suddenly in my face. "Breathe, angel. We're in time." His hands cupped my face, the Fender forgotten on the floor at our feet. "Breathe," he instructed again and I took a deep breath in feeling my lungs inflate painfully. Tears threatened my eyes, burning and stinging with their hot assault. And I hadn't even seen him yet. "Ready?" Nick asked softly. I shook my head. "You can do this, cowgirl. Take your guitar and go sing to your Dad."

  "Aren't you coming?" I asked, suddenly scared to be doing this at all, let alone on my own.

  "Of course, angel. Where you go, I go." He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, hovering there for a second, then whispering so only I could hear, "But you need to this, you need to be the one to take those first steps."

  I nodded jerkily and pulled back, my eyes blinking rapidly to clear them of the teary blur. I reached down and picked my guitar case up, took a deep breath in and asked, "Which way?"

  "Down the hall, fourth door on the right," Gerry instructed softly from behind the desk, having no doubt witnessed Nick's and my entire exchange. I was sure he'd seen worse meltdowns, so I brushed my embarrassment aside and headed towards my Dad.

  He looked far worse than I could ever have imagined. Grey, not just pale. Sunken eye sockets, prominent cheek bones, and paper thin, wrinkled flesh. His breathing was laboured. I could see the outline of his ribs through the low 'V' of his pyjama top. Each indrawn breath creating deep grooves between the bones. Sleep crusted slightly under his dark eyelashes, and his hair - so grey now - looked like it needed a wash. An I.V. tube came out of his arm and oxygen prongs were sticking up his nose.

  And he didn't stir when we walked in.

  I hesitated on the threshold of the room, then took a shuddering breath in, steadied my nerves and set the guitar case down at the end of the bed. I found a wash cloth in the attached bathroom and I wet it with warm water, then proceeded to gently wash the sleep from his eyes as I whispered my hello and told my Dad I was there.

  I said soft words that meant nothing at all, just meaningless sounds strung together, while I cleaned him as best I could. I half expected him to open those rheumy eyes and demand the chamber pot or something equally as crass, but he just kept on with that laboured breathing as though I wasn't even there.

  "We're too late," I said pulling back and feeling bereft. I'd finished washing his face and neck clean, and had brushed his hair flat too. "He doesn't know I'm here."

  "He'll hear you, angel."

  "You can't be sure," I argued.

  "You can't be sure he won't either," Nick offered softly.

  I stood there for several moments, my hand in Dad's limp one. He didn't squeeze his fingers tight. He didn't murmur in his unconscious state.

  He was dying.

  A sob escaped my lips and Nick's arms wrapped around me from behind, his face nestling into the curve of my neck and shoulder.

  "Sing, angel," he prompted ever so softly at the side of my neck.

  So, I did. I grabbed my guitar out of its case, I tuned the pegheads and then I looked up at my father, the man who hadn't been there for me growing up, but still meant so very much in the end. And the only song that I could think of, that could possibly convey everything I felt and thought, was The Dance, another Garth Brooks hit.

  I could have sung something that declared my love, that said the actual words. But somehow I thought my Dad would appreciate this song. Full of a love that existed through the pain it created, not just the simplicity of a few words, but the complexity of real life. Harsh, yet forgiving, at times agony, yet bitter-sweet.

  "How could I have known, you'd ever say good-bye. And now I'm glad I didn't know, the way it all would end, the way it all would go. Our lives are better left to chance. I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance."

  My tears joined the words, my voice cracked with the pain, as the song reached inside my very soul and wrung every ounce of emotion I experienced out of me. But I'd done it. I'd told him how I felt. No regrets. No look
ing back. He knew, even if he couldn't give me an answer in return.

  Half an hour later he died...

  ...As though he'd been waiting for me to come and sing.

  Chapter 27

  And Nick Held Me Tight And Didn't Let Go

  When we returned to ASI, after taking a couple of hours organising Dad's final preparations with the hospice people, Carmel was at the reception desk. There was no impassive gaze or arched eyebrows today. She greeted us both warmly, her features soft as they rested on my face. I knew she was aware my Dad had died. I knew the softening of this tough woman was only due to sympathy for a daughter who'd just watched her parent die. I was sure by tomorrow she'd be back to her normal gruff self.

  When we made it through the key-code locked door and down to the lunch-room-come-recreational-room for the ASI guys, we were greeted by - I was sure - half the ASI personnel. Following behind us into large and comfortable space were our security detail; Adam, Brook and Koki. Katie and Jason were already there. So was Eric - I assumed someone else was monitoring the control room. And stomping in right behind us was Carmel. Maybe they thought I'd need numbers around me, I wasn't so sure. All I felt like doing was curling up on the sofa in the corner and bawling my eyes out until they bled.

  "That was a beautiful song, darling," Katie said coming forward and wrapping a hand around my wrist with care. "I'm so sorry," she added and looked like she might cry herself. I blinked several times and nodded, realising everyone here had heard me sing to my father.

  I felt a teensy bit angry at that. It had been a heartfelt moment, something so very personal and private, yet these people I barely knew had all borne witness to my pain. I realised my hands were clenched in fists as each one of those present gave me their condolences. It was obvious they all meant it. Some of them had been involved with recovering my father from Jessie's clutches and placing him in the hospice. Some of them would have spoken to him, could actually lay claim to knowing him a little. They weren't hollow words of compassion, but they fuelled the anger inside for some strange reason. My nails dug into the flesh of my palms.