Caress (24 page)

h

Nya needed some time to think. Thankful that Michael wasn’t around bugging her—which was his favorite pastime—she moved up the main staircase and back to the executive offices. She was sure nobody would be up there and she could be alone with her thoughts. However, as she neared her own office she heard male voices raised in anger. She stopped outside the door.

“Get the hell out of here, Harrison!” That was Elphonse’s voice.

“I’m not leaving. It’s funny, you were so ready to talk to me a couple of months ago, now you’re running from me.”

“Listen, I don’t have time for this.”

“Make time.”

Nya knew she should go in and put a stop to this, but something made her hold off. Instead she came closer and peeked through the venetian blinds that were always slightly open.

“I don’t know what your game is.” That was Michael.

“No game. I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, so why don’t you just go and do some reporting somewhere.”

“Oh, you’re testing my patience,” Michael grated out. Then he changed tactics. “Now that we’re alone, you might as well tell the truth.” Michael sat in the chair at the desk. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”

Elphonse turned to him with a look of genuine distress. “You’re right, there’s no reason to lie, but if you knew what was best for everyone, you’d let this drop.”

“What’s best for everyone? You could’ve ruined my career. You could’ve ruined Hatsheput’s reputation.”

“I couldn’t have,” Elphonse retorted. “If you were going to be ruined you would be by now.”

“Then you could have destroyed the case. Mandolesi could still go free.”

El offered no explanation.

“Is that why you did it?” Michael suddenly stood up. “You working with Mandolesi?”

Elphonse gritted his teeth. His jaw rippled with the motion. Tension had his hands clenched into fists. Michael knew he had gotten to him. El opened his mouth to say something, but paused. Then he did speak. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Harrison. So you wouldn’t understand. I did what I had to do. If Rinaldo goes free, so be it. I’m still doing what I have to do, and you can’t stop me. You’re in over your head, man.”

“What about Norfolk, huh? What have you got to say about that? Nya could have been killed.”

“Nya wasn’t supposed to be there,” El responded evenly.

She couldn’t listen anymore. She started away with her mind racing with what she’d heard.

Inside the office, Michael took a menacing step toward El.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not telling you anything. All I will say is that Nya’s like my sister. I would never hurt her. That wasn’t my fault.”

“All of this,” Michael said, standing within an inch of him and trying desperately to hold his temper, “is your fault. It’s only a matter of time before everybody knows it.” He then left the room, afraid of what he might do if he stayed.

He came down the stairs just in time to see Nya slipping out the doors that led to the parking garage. At least he’d had a near confession from Deklerk. He had said that Nya wasn’t supposed to be in Norfolk that night.

h

Nya marched briskly through the parking lot, searching frantically through her purse for the keys. She couldn’t believe her father. She couldn’t believe how he had smiled while he had thoroughly demeaned her. She couldn’t believe Michael, either. She couldn’t believe his infuriating accuracy. However, she would have been able to deal with both if only she hadn’t overheard that conversation. That was what she really couldn’t grasp. Michael had been telling the truth all along, and El really was behind everything. God, she’d been a fool to think he’d changed. She cursed Elphonse under her breath and swiped at the warm trickles on her face, wishing them away. She knew she could endure. She knew she could make it without losing all control. She just had to get out of there.

Too late did she hear the roar of the engine behind her. The screech of tires made her head snap up just in time to see the car hurtling towards her. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t believe it was happening. She felt her body tumbling to the ground, weight crushing her, but she wasn’t hurt. She opened her eyes to see Michael Harrison on top of her, his eyes trained on the car that had sped out of the deck.

“Are you all right?” he demanded.

Nya couldn’t speak. Her eyes were riveted to the spot where the car had disappeared.

“Nya.” Michael stroked her cheek and turned her to face him. “Nya, darling, say something.”

“I-I-I…” she stuttered. Words failed her, attempts at movement failed her. All she could do was lie there frozen.

Michael got up and pulled her to her feet. He held her tightly by the shoulders. “Baby, tell me you’re okay.”

Nya struggled to overcome her shock. She licked her lips but her eyes returned to the spot where she had last seen the car. “Someone tried to run me over.”

Michael lifted her keys from her hands, where they were still trapped after the ordeal. “Yes, but you’re okay. You’re okay. We’re going to call the police and the Bureau and give statements.” Then he walked her to her car, depositing her on the passenger seat. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number. As it rang, Michael also told her that he was going to call Lysette.

“No.” Nya’s eyes grew round. “No,” she repeated.

Michael punched a key and took the phone away from his ear.

Nya explained, “My family is in there having this event and putting on a good face. It’s a success. If you tell Lysette, she will tell them and the night will be over.”

“They need to know.”

“They don’t, Michael, at least not tonight. Please. This thing is going well. This event is going well. I’ll tell them tomorrow, I swear, but—”

“They’ll know something’s happening when the cops cordon off this whole thing.”

“Michael, can’t you do something? Isn’t there any way we can make this discreet?”

Michael nodded reluctantly and took up his phone again.

Nya sat dazed as Michael arranged for the authorities to come. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard him ask for discretion. She was thankful when only two unmarked cars came. Ten minutes later, she was even more thankful that Michael had given much of the statement himself and ensured that the cops required very little of her. One or two party-goers came out to leave early, but no one said anything to them. She heard her phone ring a couple of times, but she didn’t answer.

Thirty minutes later Michael slid into the driver’s side, squeezing the wheel so hard that the grips bit into his fingers. Nya didn’t say a word even as she let him drive her home and take her into her house. He walked with her into the den where he sat her down and asked if she wanted something from the kitchen.

Nya sat on the sofa staring straight ahead with her arms wrapped close around her as if she were cold. She said that she didn’t want anything. Michael slipped down next to her and peeled her arms from her body, pulling them around his waist. He held her close, rocking her, letting her hold on to him. “I know you’re scared.”

Nya brought her eyes up to his, then tried to extricate herself from those arms that were offering too much support.

“I
know
you’re scared,” he repeated, holding her still. “But I’m not leaving your side until these guys are caught. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Rinaldo Mandolesi wants me dead. I
saw
what he’s done to people, Michael. You can’t stop him.”

“I can and I will.” Michael refused to let her go. “Let me hold you. It doesn’t mean you’re not strong, darling.”

He held on to her and Nya was not proof against it. Sobs started from deep within her, bubbling up. Her shoulders shook as it finally came out. She didn’t know how long she took refuge within the strength of his arms. She did know—however startling the reality—that these were the only arms she wanted around her. She was still scared, but somehow, Michael made her less so.

When the worst was over, Michael scooped her up and walked with her out of the den and up the graceful stairs. A door was open at the end of the hall and he could see a large bed inside. It had to be her room. He entered cautiously and laid her down on the four-poster. He knelt as he took off her shoes and pulled the blanket up around her. Then he saw her look up at him. Her eyes and face were glowing in the moonlight filtering in through the window. Her mouth was open and her teeth clamped over that deliciously full lower lip. And he could never have mistaken the look in her eyes. For a moment, just a moment, he considered it as he struggled with his own desire. Then, impulsively, he kissed her forehead and told her goodnight. Before he left the room, he said, “I’m going to sleep down on the couch if you need anything. And don’t argue with me on this. Anything could happen.”

Instead of a protest Nya said, “Thank you.”

h

She was dreaming, dreaming something horrible. That car! Over and over again she was frozen like a doe in headlights. Over and over again she could feel her chest constrict, cutting off her breath, making it impossible to scream. She tossed in her bed in the grip of the most terrifying dreamtime torture that she’d ever experienced.

Then there were more visions, this time a face, a face laughing at her, a face that was familiar, yet mocking her. She couldn’t place it. She wanted to scream, but the only sound was her own wild heartbeat in her ears. She felt hot tears sliding down her face as she fought to tear herself from the nightmare. Then, as if water had been thrown on the fire that burned her in her sleep, she felt arms, strong arms, reaching out to save her. The feeling of complete safety that washed over her was indescribably sudden.

“Shhhh, now. Come on, baby, wake up.” She heard the soft words urging her to wake. Slowly her lashes fluttered open and she looked up to find Michael peering down at her with a creased brow. She closed her eyes again and leaned against him, allowing his strong hold to continue soothing her, calming her.

She cleared her throat and whispered to him, “It was a nightmare. I kept seeing the accident over and over again.”

“It’s okay now,” he murmured softly as he stroked her cheek and slid down onto the bed so that she could lean back against him. He rocked her softly, as he had before when she cried. He pressed soft kisses on top of her head and on her temple, trying to calm her and himself. However, it only took moments for him to realize that he was doing nothing of the kind. Instead of calming himself, he could feel his pulse begin to race even faster. His kisses—with which he had only tried to comfort her—were filling with passion. It was as if he could not get enough of her soft skin and soft scent. She tasted so sweet. And then his hands were moving to shift the covers down from her shoulders. Then they were grasping the soft skin of her arms and exploring everywhere they could.

Taken by surprise by the gentle attack on her senses, Nya did not protest. It seemed so right to be there in his arms with him doing exactly as he was. And not only did it feel right, it felt so damnably good. She raised her own hand to press against the hard chest he had cradled her to. He still wore the starched white shirt he’d worn to the ball, and Nya moved her fingers under it and found the skin covered with curling, silken hair on his chest.

h

Michael pulled her closer to seize the sexy mouth he’d fantasized about since that day in the garden. His strong lips moved over hers as his warm, moist tongue gained entry to claim hers as his own. It was then that her soft hand found its way beneath his shirt and skimmed across his nipple to elicit a deep shudder of pleasure that rippled through his body.

Ironically, it was that wave of pleasure that shook him from his sensual haze. His eyes flared wide and his breath caught in his chest as he realized what he was doing. What they were doing. He looked down at Nya who, with his hesitation, had also been jarred back to the present.

“Michael,” she started in a small voice that did not sound like her own.

“Nya,” he cut in, feeling as if he knew what she was going to say. “I’m sorry this happened…I mean, I’m not sorry this happened but…I realize that this is not the time and that you were feeling…” He couldn’t find the words to express his regret at having taken advantage of her situation.

He found that he didn’t need to.

“No, Michael,” Nya said holding up a silencing hand. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. And,” she hesitated a moment. Then she reached up to trail her fingers across the planes of his face with its almond eyes, that aristocratic nose, and those strong lips that had so easily made her lose control. She never finished her sentence. She just continued to touch his face lovingly.

Looking down at her sleepy-eyed face, which was flushed with passion, Michael thought himself crazy to try to stop what had already begun. He had no power to stop it. Slowly, he ran a hand up over the satin slip she’d been wearing beneath her clothes that night. Nya’s breath caught in her throat again for a very different reason than earlier when she’d been in the grips of her nightmare. Feeling his hand move gently, and almost platonically—but not quite—between her breasts was making her eyes light with anticipation. He slipped his hand all the way up over her collarbone to close gently on her neck. He marveled at the absolute slimness of it. He felt the muscles beneath his fingers.