Slow Heat (31 page)

It wasn’t as if she had anything to say to him, other than to scream at him. She thought back since they’d met each other. Had he gone a day without talking to her? She was pretty sure they hadn’t gone a day without seeing each other. Maggie was having serious Micah withdrawal.

She’d already decided that she needed to put her life in order. Call it her fixation with numbers, but Maggie knew she was losing control of her mind and her temper so often because her life was in complete chaos. The sooner things were all neat and organized again, the happier she’d be.

It would make her nuts sitting around waiting for Micah to call her. Maggie might not be a wiz with firearms the way he was—or the way Deidre was. But so be it. She would just have to do her best to not go anywhere dangerous.

A small voice in the back of her head pointed out that Club Paradise obviously wasn’t the safe place she’d once believed it was. But the place was closed down. No one would be there. If her key didn’t work, she would turn around and leave. She needed answers. Maybe no one else understood. Maggie had to find out who was behind all of this now, or she’d go nuts.

By the time she pulled into Club Paradise’s parking lot, Maggie wasn’t positive that she wasn’t already nuts. What had made her think the place would be safe because it was closed for business?

The usual floodlights that had lit up the parking lot at night weren’t on. The many lights along the building were off. The neon light at the edge of the parking lot that flashed
CLUB PARADISE
was off. The building was barely visible from the road. Her headlights glowed along the side of the building as she pulled around back. But when she turned off her car, she was cloaked in the thick, inky blackness that the building she had once considered a home away from home had now become.

Her heart thumped against her ribs when she got out of the car. For a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. She could hop back in her car, leave, and be safely home in half an hour. Then she could cuddle up in her bed with a good book and forget about all her worries.

Like that had worked for her so far. She hadn’t been able to enjoy her books, or even solve some of the tougher math problems in her
Math Wizards
magazine. Going home was not an option.

“It’s just the dark,” she mumbled to herself and forced her feet to move.

Maggie walked across the parking lot to the back door then cursed her stupidity for not picking out the right key while still in her car. She couldn’t see a thing.

“Damn it,” she cursed when she dropped her keys on the ground.

She bent down to feel for them when the sound of someone approaching made her freeze. Maggie pulled her hand off the ground but remained where she was, frozen, squatted in front of the back door to the kitchen. She couldn’t swallow from fear when footsteps came closer. Someone was walking alongside the building, and they were almost to the back.

Maggie turned her head just as a tall figure came into view. A bloodcurdling scream burned her throat at the sight of the gun in the man’s hand. Maggie ran. She ran harder than she’d ever run in her life. Her shoe lost traction over the gravel parking lot and she went down, burning the crap out of her knee when she scraped the flesh off it.

She scrambled to her feet and hurried to her car. Just as she rounded the driver’s side, she remembered that she didn’t have her keys. Despite her heart thumping too loudly in her chest and a ringing sound filling her ears, Maggie could hear the loud thumping of shoes on the gravel lot as whoever it was gained speed on her.

What should she do? All she could do was run around her car and toward the street. She didn’t have her keys. Not that there would be time to unlock her car and get in before they gained on her. Even if she pushed the button on her keychain to unlock her car, by the time she opened her door they would be on her.

Why did she think coming here was a good idea?

A thick arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her off her feet. Maggie wouldn’t go down without a fight. Maybe if she kicked and fought hard enough they might drop their gun. She had a slight chance of living through this. Maggie would take any chance she had.

“Forget the keys to your car again?” a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

Maggie took her time slowing down her kicking and struggling. Recognition seeped into her brain, and she finally stilled. Micah took just as long releasing his hold on her. When he let her go, then turned her around and gently stroked her hair out of her face, she didn’t know whether to cry or scream. His hand lingered on the side of her face.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

Even in the darkness Maggie saw concern in his eyes. Or was it something else? Had he missed her? His hand moved to the back of her neck and he pulled her face closer to his, then tugged on her hair to make her lean her head back. She should have pride. She should demand to know why he hadn’t called or sought her out for two days. This wasn’t her imagination. Maggie had too practical a brain to create some kind of love story in her brain that didn’t really exist. Micah had feelings for her. They might be as confused and as tormented as her feelings for him were, but nonetheless they existed.

His kiss began soft, gentle, and hesitant. She wasn’t sure if she demanded more or if he did. Her arms went up and around his broad shoulders at the same time his hands moved to her back and crushed her against him. Their mouths opened and their tongues intertwined. He tasted like coffee and possibly beer. She couldn’t tell.

There wasn’t any questioning his quickly aroused state, or how much he wanted her when he crushed her against that incredibly strong body of his and growled fiercely into her mouth. She moaned in return and arched her back, feeling her breasts swell and her crotch grow soaked.

Maggie was no longer scared. The dark night didn’t bother her. Her world didn’t seem grossly out of order. It was amazing how being with Micah seemed to put everything in order.

That part was the fairy tale. Maggie didn’t buy into cheesy romance. Those paperback novels that made love out to be some formula that, if followed properly, always turned into happily ever after made her sick. Primarily because that wasn’t how it was. If it were, she would have plugged the right numbers into that formula long ago. Happily ever after couldn’t be solved by some equation.

Maggie broke off the kiss, lowered her head, and pushed against that virile chest.

“Stop,” she whispered, then licked her now swollen lips and tasted him on them. She had a logical brain. It was time to use it. “Don’t do this.”

“You’re right.”

Her heart sank. Despite how rational she prided herself on being, hearing him agree with her stung. She looked up at his handsome face. It was dark enough that even standing this close to each other, she might not be seeing his face accurately. Shadows made his cheekbones appear higher. His dark hazel eyes were shielded by his black lashes, and his mouth closed as she stared at him. He definitely wasn’t smiling.

“I can’t take this,” she informed him and turned around then marched around the back side of her car and to the back door to the club, where her keys were somewhere on the ground.

For a moment she had thought she’d once again seen into Micah’s soul. This time she had sworn she’d seen love, and a desire for her so strong that he’d lost his head and had kissed her behind the club, which wasn’t the safest place in the world. Maggie didn’t want to know where he’d put his gun, although she knew that what she had felt pressing against her during their kiss was no gun. But Micah had a gun. She knew what she saw when he came around the building.

She spun around in her tracks and Micah ran into her.

“Damn,” she cried out when his chin hit the top of her head and her body smacked against his rock-hard body. All wind flew out of her lungs.

“Crap, sweetheart,” Micah growled, grabbing her arms. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I was about to demand the same of you.” She stepped backward and he let go of her, which was what she wanted. Just his hands on her seemed to do odd things to her body, which in turn caused her brain to forget how to be sensible. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” he bellowed, grabbing her by the arm. “What are you doing here?” This time he whispered.

They stood at the back door and he pulled out his cell phone, then used the light from it to move over the ground in front of the door until he spotted her keys. Maggie reached down and grabbed them, embarrassed and pissed that she hadn’t thought to do that same thing when she’d first dropped them.

“I work here,” she snapped, her frustration mounting.

Micah kept the light from his phone on her keys while she searched for the one she needed. She held it up then yanked it back when he tried taking it from her. When he cocked one eyebrow at her she gave him a smug look.

“And you’re here because?” she prompted, unable to keep her temper in line. “And don’t feed me some bullshit about following me, because I would have noticed.”

“You didn’t notice me parked across the street when you pulled in here.”

“I wasn’t looking on that side of the street. I was looking on this side of the street since this was the side of the street I was turning toward.” She looked away from him first and slid the key into the lock. “Son of a bitch. No one changed the locks.”

“Why would they? The police aren’t going to change the locks. The owner of the building is in jail.”

She almost corrected him but remembered that Uncle Larry’s name was still on the deed to the building. She had finished paperwork to turn the ownership of the building over to some corporation. Uncle Larry had insisted Maggie take his name off as owner. She had argued that they couldn’t just turn ownership over. But when she’d insisted on checking out the corporation, her uncle had lost his temper and demanded that for once she just do as he said without second-guessing his every word. Maggie wondered why she’d forgotten about that until now.

“What are you doing?” Micah asked when she reached for the light switch.

“No one can tell these lights are on from the outside.”

“They’ll know they are on if they come inside.”

Maggie had her hand on the light switch just inside the back door and stared at Micah. He must have seen the question on her face because he answered before she asked.

“I’ve been driving by several times a day, watching this building. Sooner or later whoever is in on this with your uncle will show up here. I really think this is truly the scene of the crime. I was parked across the street.” He paused as if he changed his mind about what he was going to say next. “Imagine my surprise to see you pull into the lot.”

“So you came at me with a gun?” she demanded. “If you’d simply said it was you, I wouldn’t have screamed and run for my life.”

“I don’t walk into darkness where my surroundings are unfamiliar without being armed,” he told her flatly.

She accepted the answer. That was Micah. And she’d be smart to hear his words and convince herself that they were truly not compatible.

“So how would someone get into the building?” she demanded, shifting her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about how she and Micah weren’t right for each other. He was here, next to her, and as pissed as she was that he’d scared the crap out of her, she was also exhilarated to be with him. Not that she was ready to let him know that. “I’m the only one with the key. Uncle Larry didn’t even have a key. He always lost it.”

“Are you sure he always lost it?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she hissed, suddenly not sure at all.

“Well okay.”

Micah closed the back door. This time it was even darker than it had been outside. Maggie was proud of herself for not jumping when he touched her arm. His body moved closer until his front was pressed against her backside.

“Do you have a flashlight?” he asked, changing the subject.

What was it about him and whispering into her ear from behind? Chills rushed over her flesh. He was touching her arm. He had to feel her goose bumps spread, which meant he knew what he was doing to her. Maggie shook her head instead of answering him.

He sighed, and she waited out the silence that followed. So help him, if he tried doing anything to her right now she would not miss her aim despite how dark it was.

“Turn on the light.”

Maggie flipped the switch and stepped away from him, praying he didn’t hear her sigh with relief.

“Why did you come here?” he asked.

Out of habit she headed toward her office. “I was going to search, look for anything that would prove my innocence.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Where are the best places to search?”

Maggie stared at her office. She had turned on the light but remained in the doorway when Micah came up behind her. She was a strong woman. There was a lot she could handle. But damn if one blow after another hadn’t been sent her way. She stepped inside and squatted in front of the statuette that she had kept on her filing cabinet.

The small statue of the Mother Mary holding baby Jesus had been a gift from her grandmother O’Malley on Maggie’s confirmation. It was shattered, most of it dust, but she picked up one of the remaining larger pieces and her eyes filled with tears.

“This was a gift,” she murmured.

“Who gave it to you?”

“My grandmother during confirmation. It’s one of the Catholic sacraments where we become adults in the Catholic Church.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this. Micah remained silent behind her. She stood slowly and spotted the rosary and small octagonal container that it had been in. Maggie reached down and picked them up. “These were on top of my filing cabinet, too. Mrs. Hope, our religion teacher, gave each of us our own rosary in the eighth grade. The rosary was in this,” she told him, and returned the beads to the case that had held them. “They’re made out of crushed rose petals and have been blessed by the pope.” She held the beads up to her nose. They still smelled of roses. One small thing in her office that wasn’t ruined.

Otherwise it looked as if a major earthquake had destroyed the place. The filing cabinets were on the floor. Her desk drawers were on their side next to her desk. All of their contents had been spilled onto her desk. And as if ransacking every inch of her office hadn’t been enough, the walls had major holes in them. She guessed whoever had searched in here got pissed when they couldn’t find anything and decided to look in the walls, too. Her home away from home had been destroyed.