Coming In Hot Box Set

by Gina Kincade

  Eric’s hands were shaking, his breath coming in short sharp pants. Mike reached out and put his hand on his shoulder. “You need to calm the fuck down. Andie needs you.”

  “Yes,” Eric said raggedly in agreement. His hand still shook as he opened Andie’s eyes to check her pupils but they stilled when he started CPR. “I need you to go to my car and get my med kit. She’s been given an overdose and stopped breathing. I need the Narcan stat!”

  Bending, Eric put his mouth on Andie’s, tossing his keys in Mike’s direction. He started breathing, pumping air into her chest as he snatched the keys.

  Mike rose to his feet and ran flat out to the parking lot, taking the stairs three at a time and jumping down the entire last flight. He pointed the car’s key fob at the black Lexus in back of the building, the nicest car in the lot.

  The bag was in the trunk. He was back in the apartment less than thirty seconds later, throwing the bag next to Eric.

  The doctor’s hands had stopped shaking. Indeed all emotion had been wiped off his face. He was clearly on autopilot now, the years of training kicking in.

  Eric had the Narcan injector assembled before Mike could blink. He squeezed Andie’s shoulder, plunging the needle on the thickest part of the muscle. After a beat, he resumed CPR while Mike started counting down in his head. But almost a minute passed and there was no response. Narcan usually worked right away.

  Please don’t let her die, Mike prayed, turning when more men appeared at the doors. It was the EMTs. They hurried over to Andie, indicating their intention to take over CPR, but he waved them away. “It’s okay. He’s a doctor.”

  They backed off and waited while Eric prep’d a second dose of Narcan. He injected the drug in Andie’s other shoulder. Mike held his breath, willing her to start breathing again.

  She didn’t move, but Eric didn’t stop his ministrations. Entranced, Mike watched him, the rhythmic pattern determined and textbook perfect.

  Behind him, the EMT’s shuffled. Worried one of them was going to suggest Eric stop and call a time of death, he shot them both his best death stare. One of them actually hid behind the other one…but Mike was starting to believe the worst himself.

  Andie wasn’t going to wake up.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eric was cold. His hands were ice as they pushed up and down on his wife’s chest. He didn’t let himself think or feel anything. He couldn’t or he would break down. If he did, he would definitely lose her.

  An excruciating minute passed before there was some sign. As he lifted his lips from hers Andie inhaled with a gasp. His may have been louder.

  Eric’s lungs burned as he inhaled in large gulps as if he had been the one who hadn’t been breathing. Tears stung at his eyes as Andie’s lids fluttered and finally opened.

  “Eric?” she whispered.

  That was when he let himself cry.

  ***

  Andie groaned and shuddered.

  “Ow,” she muttered, opening her eyes to bright sunlight.

  “Andie?” Eric came into view. He looked terrible. His eyes were red and puffy and his clothes were rumpled.

  “What happened to you?” she asked.

  He gave her a sad smile. “I’m okay. It’s what happened to you that I’m worried about.”

  What had happened to her? Frowning she struggled to remember, noticing for the first time she was in a hospital room.

  “How did I get here?”

  “Mike saw Amber and Todd on the security footage. It implicated her in the drug ring. Do you remember what happened after you went to Amber’s apartment?”

  “I was going to clean it…”

  She gasped suddenly. The images of a gun and those two frightening men with Amber came to mind. “It was her,” she said, numbness spreading through her chest and hands. “She told them to get rid of me.”

  “We know. They arrested the man who assaulted you. Mike took him down before the cops came. Your ex-boyfriend turned himself in to police and told them everything. The second man, the one who left him, is at large. So is Amber.”

  “Oh…Oh my God. She had me fooled the whole time. I thought she was just a struggling waitress like me. I can’t believe she was a dealer. Her place was super simple, and she didn’t drive a nice car or have expensive clothes.”

  “Yes, the police can’t find any evidence of added income. She hid her operation well.”

  Andie collapsed back onto her pillows. The room was spinning. Oh, God. She didn’t remember what had happened to her after Amber had left. It was all a blur, and she hurt everywhere.

  “You said I was assaulted,” she whispered near tears.

  Eric took her hand. “Your rape kit was negative. But the man we found with you forced your mouth open to take the drugs. There’s some bruising around your lips and there was residue from the spiked drink all over your shirt.”

  He leaned closer, pressing against her side as he squeezed her hand tighter. “I thought I lost you.”

  The tears she’d been holding back started falling. “I thought I lost me too. I was so scared.”

  “You don’t have to be ever again. I’m never letting you out of my sight. I’m not even going to let you go to the bathroom alone.”

  Andie hiccuped and snorted a little, aggressively wiping her tears away. “You know, right now, I’m okay with that.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Eric spread the gel over his patient’s extended stomach and waved the sonogram wand over it until he found the baby’s heartbeat.

  “Everything seems good,” he told Marie-Claire, walking her through all the vital statistics for a fetus at her stage of pregnancy.

  His explanation was detailed and reassuring—and completely for the benefit of Marie-Claire’s anxious husband, celebrity chef Remi Paquin. His actual patient was a rock, and surprisingly unflappable considering she was approaching the end of her first pregnancy. Next to him, Andie took notes on the vital statistics for Mrs. Paquin’s file.

  The chef worked at Calen McLachlan’s five-star restaurant in Paris, Meliae. He was a brilliant culinary artist and Eric was looking forward to eating at the restaurant later that night. But first he had to get the high-strung man back to work, and that wasn’t going to happen until Marie-Claire had been given a clean bill of health.

  Glad he was able to give one, he wrapped up the examination without betraying his impatience to get out of there. He had a big surprise for Andie and he was eager to see her face when he gave it to her.

  Months had passed since her attack. They had left Vegas immediately after getting the all clear from the cops. Her ex was serving jail time, a reduced sentence in exchange for his cooperation with the investigation.

  As far as Eric was concerned, Todd had gotten off too lightly for abandoning Andie to those thugs when she needed him the most. He would have fought tooth and nail to get her away from those assholes.

  She was everything to him.

  The second man had disappeared without a trace, but they found Amber a few weeks later. Her body turned up in California, in a hotel in the heart of Silicon Valley. She had been killed in exactly the same way she’d intended Andie to die—via overdose.

  Despite his protests, the cops in California had ruled the death a suicide. There would be no further investigation from that quarter.

  Fortunately for him, Calen had Mike and his staff still investigating. Mike believed any threat to Andie had died with Amber. It was cold comfort, but it was all he had. Meanwhile, he and Andie had both started counseling, teleconferencing with a therapist they shared since they traveled so much.

  Andie had teased him for his insistence on going through the counseling together in addition to individual sessions, but he’d meant what he told her at the hospital. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. And she didn’t mind—not yet. In fact, the few times Andie had been away from him, the relief on her face when she saw him again spoke volumes.

  He was determined to make sure Andie n
ever felt unsafe again. Eric thought he had succeeded to a large degree, but the time had come to move forward. Which was why they were here in Paris. The check-up for Mrs. Paquin was a convenient excuse for their trip here, but the real reason was a belated honeymoon.

  He and Andie were going to spend two whole weeks relaxing and sightseeing—without a single medical appointment scheduled till next month.

  “Thank you again for humoring my husband,” Marie Claire said in a low voice after her husband had hustled to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.

  “It’s no problem,” Andie told her with a beaming smile. “I can’t wait to eat his food later!”

  “Are you two a couple?” Marie-Claire asked glancing from one to the other.

  “Yes,” Eric confirmed, smiling at Andie with a heat in his eyes that made her blush. “We’re married,” he said with pride, turning back to his patient reluctantly.

  “Oh, I remember those early days being married,” Marie-Claire said with a laugh as she watched their interplay. “I will let you two get out of here so you can enjoy Paris.”

  “We intend to,” Andie said, almost vibrating with excitement. She hadn’t been able to sleep on the plane ride over the Atlantic, but that didn’t seem to detract from her energy level.

  Which is good for me. He wasn’t going to need to factor in a nap before making mad passionate love to his bride.

  After giving the neurotic father-to-be his most convincing everything-is-fine speech, he gave the man a card with his temporary replacement’s number. He suspected the relief doctor wouldn’t thank him later. The chef would probably be on the phone before he and Andie got out of the building.

  “Congratulations again!” Andie called behind her as they left the Paquin home.

  “You make a great PA,” he told her as they made their way outside.

  Patients loved her. Andie was sweet, charming, and efficient. Her natural warmth put them at ease. They could tell she genuinely cared about their welfare.

  “Well thanks, Doc,” she said with a giggle. “But I think you might be a little biased. Are we really going to his restaurant tonight?”

  “Yes. I hope he is too.”

  “Oh, I think it’s sweet he’s so concerned—although I hope you’re not that way when the time comes for us,” she added with a nudge.

  “I’m going to be fine. I have a system all worked out.”

  “Of course, you do,” she said. “You plan everything, or so I’ve learned since we got married.” Andie stopped next to him while he texted the car service and gave him a considering look. “It’s hard to believe you were ever a gambler.”

  He snorted. “Why do you think I ended up losing my shirt? You can’t plan your way out of a losing hand.”

  “Well, I’m glad you got your shirt back…although I do prefer you without it if I’m being totally honest and literal,” she said with a wink. “Can we go see the Eiffel Tower before we check into the hotel?”

  He paused at the main doors. “What if I told you we could see it from our room?”

  She gasped and grabbed his arm. “Seriously?”

  Eric smiled at her eagerness. “It’s a short car ride away. Very short. I would suggest we walk, but we can’t with all this gear,” he said, indicating their cases.

  The car eventually arrived. It maneuvered through the heavy Parisian traffic at a snail’s pace, but soon the trip was over. Andie’s eyes widened when she saw their location.

  “Is this the Caislean Paris? Isn’t it impossible to get a room here?”

  “It is,” he confirmed. “Which is why it’s useful to know the owner. Patrick is especially proud of this place. It’s their first hotel to earn six stars, but probably not their last.”

  He ushered her out of the cab and inside the tall granite building. The spartan exterior blended seamlessly with the lobby interior both rich and elegant without being garish or overdone. Andie whirled in a circle, taking it all in.

  “I didn’t know it was possible to get six stars,” she said, her eyes devouring every gleaming surface and decoration.

  “I didn’t either until Trick told me,” he replied, handing their cases over to the porter.

  They checked in and went up to their suite without further delay. He unlocked the door and Andie was about to step inside when he stopped her, scooping her into his arms unexpectedly.

  Andie squealed and laughed and he carried her past the threshold, setting her on her feet just inside the foyer. The grand suite of the Caislean Paris had four rooms—a sitting room, office, dining room, and bedroom. There was also a private deck with an infinity pool and hot tub.

  His beautiful bride was stunned into silence. “No way!” she said after a moment, dropping her purse and running from room to room.

  It was incredible. He probably owed Patrick a kidney for a suite like this.

  “Is Trick going to demand our firstborn for this hook-up?” Andie asked, reading his mind after she had dashed in and out of every room twice.

  “Well, I think he’s working on his own right around now,” he said, thinking back to his last conversation with the hotel magnate. Trick had finally met someone, although from what he’d told Eric, the situation was very complicated.

  Worry about Trick later, he thought, watching Andie turn around. She sidled up to him, the shimmy of her hips hypnotic.

  She flattened her hands on his chest before toying with his collar. “And what about us? Have you changed your mind yet? I can throw away my birth control pills right now…”

  Eric closed his eyes as she started to unbutton his shirt. “Don’t tempt me.”

  As much as he wanted to start a family, Andie needed time to recover from her ordeal. The added stress of pregnancy was something that could wait—at least until she stopped having nightmares. They were fewer now, but she still woke up in a cold sweat every few weeks.

  It’s more like once a month now. She is getting better.

  “We need a little more time to enjoy married life,” he said, tracing her collarbone with his fingers. “We should revisit this conversation after our one-year anniversary…”

  He had more to say, but he lost his train of thought when Andie parted his shirt, her fingers sliding across the skin of his chest.

  “Truthfully, I don’t mind right now. I like that we’re alone in this room tonight.”

  “Actually, this place is ours for two weeks,” he said starting to nibble on the soft skin of her neck, but Andie pulled abruptly away.

  “Two weeks! Shut the front door!”

  He grinned and nodded. She started to jump up and down before leaping into his arms. Laughing, he spun her in a circle before carrying her through the double doors of the bedroom.

  Dropping her lightly onto the king-sized bed, he started to undress, unzipping as fast as he could. But he was too slow for Andie. She pulled him on top of her with a wicked grin.

  Wiggling underneath him, Andie reached inside his pants, drawing out his stiff length. She wrapped her hands around him, lifting her head to tease him with her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, licking the head of his shaft at the sensitive ridge. She scraped her teeth against it, making him suck his breath in a sharp inhalation.

  He tried to pull away from her, intent on pleasuring her first. It was his pattern, part of his job. But Andie wasn’t having it. Not this time. She kept her hold on him, teasing and sucking on him until he was rock hard.

  Eric was close to begging when she finally let him go. Gasping, he leaned back, transfixed when Andie took hold of her skirt, slowly drawing it up. He followed it with his fingers as she exposed more and more of her creamy skin. The edge of her skirt went up and over the tops of her thighs, revealing her glistening pussy.

  “Oh dear God, you aren’t wearing panties.” He licked his lips. Had she been naked down there this whole time?

  “I took them off on the plane. I’ve been so wet for you all day.” Her hips wriggled again, rubbing her thighs together briefly before pa
rting them, showing him the pink lining of her lips and her tight little opening.

  Damn. Thank God he hadn’t known until now. He wouldn’t have been able to function knowing she was bare under her skirt—waiting for him. Her clit stood at attention and he pinched it, making her whimper.

  “Don’t make me beg, Eric,” she said in a sultry voice, her eyes half-lidded as she parted her blouse and unclasped her bra.

  The two cups fell away from her, revealing the pouting tips of her breasts. “Put me inside you love,” he said, wanting her hands on him again.

  Moaning, Andie parted her legs wider and took hold of him, rubbing his length over her moist lips and clit before positioning him at her entrance. Cupping her breast, he pushed inside slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size. She was so small and tight, he couldn’t do it too fast or too hard until she was warmed up.

  Andie raised her hips, meeting him part way. “I’ve been thinking of this all day,” she said with a little moan.

  She had hidden it well. He wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t speak. So he told her everything he wanted her to know with his body, the way his hands caressed her full breasts, abrading her nipples until they were peaked and stiff.

  His cock eased in and out of her clinging shaft, building speed until he was fucking her hard. He buried himself to the hilt and back out again, twisting a little to hit the spot that made her writhe and cry out. He knew exactly where it was, and he didn’t ever waste any time teasing her, not when he could make her come repeatedly instead.

  So that was what he did. In a few minutes Andie was straining and moaning, her hands digging into his backside. She orgasmed with a little scream.

  “Please, Eric,” she begged. Andie tried to hold him tight, but her grip was weak. He pressed his chest again hers but kept thrusting. He was relentless. Eric wouldn’t stop unless she asked…and she never had.

  Moving his hands to cup her derriere, he lifted off the bed a little, adjusting the angle to hit a different part of her. The pitch of her breathing changed and he knew she was ready for more.