Standing in the Shadows (12 page)

She glanced at the clock. Seven o'clock. Time to make some tea and calm herself down with something busy and constructive, but horror of horrors, there was nothing left to do. The apartment was already painfully tidy. Everything that could be alphabetized was. Every surface that could be scrubbed shone. Her packing was done, her travel clothes laid out, down to the last hairpin. If this went on, she would be reduced to cleaning off the gunk that accumulated on the computer keyboard with cotton swabs and alcohol. Coping mechanisms gone wild.

The intercom buzzed. Her first thought was that it might be Connor, and she stumbled across the room, electrified. "Who is it?"

"It's me, silly. Tonia. Don't tell me Ms. Perfect is still in bed?"

"Oh, hi, Tonia. The elevator's still broken. Take the stairs."

She pulled on some sweats while she waited for Tonia's knock. She opened the door and gave her friend a grateful hug. "You are such a sweetheart for helping me. I hate leaving Edna at the pet hotel."

Tonia tossed her black curls. "No big deal. Sorry I had to bug you so early. Shall I take Edna home with me, or just take your keys?"

"Whatever's more convenient for you," Erin said. "And I am taking you out to dinner as soon as I get back."

"Oh, stop." Tonia rolled her artfully made-up eyes. "I'll take Edna home, then. She can chase some of the neighbor cats around. She's such a warmongering bitch, she must feel stir-crazy in this tiny place."

Erin was all too aware of how the fussy Edna hated being cooped up in an efficiency apartment. But life was tough all around.

"I'm sure it'll be a nice treat for her," she said tightly.

Tonia lifted up a Starbucks bag. "I brought us some sticky buns, plus a couple of double-shot lattes. You need a stiff dose of caffeine."

Erin devoured a gooey bun while Tonia pawed through
Erin's suitcase. "You can't go meet an eligible zillionaire dressed like this," Tonia protested. "You don't have a single thing that shows off your chest, and you have a fine chest, girl! What am I going to do with you?"

Erin shrugged. "I'm going for professional, not sexpot."

"The two are not incompatible." Tonia wagged an admonishing finger at her. "When you come back, we are going shopping, and I will personally show you how to reconcile them."

"I'm broke," Erin said. "No shopping until my ship comes in."

Tonia rolled her eyes. "That's what I love about you, Erin. So naive. Let me lay out the plan for you. Step One, borrow my clothes to make that all-important first impression. Step Two, get passionately friendly with the zillionaire. And then,
then
we will go shopping."

"Oh, stop it. This is a work thing. And besides, I…" Her voice trailed off, and she started to blush.

Tonia blinked. "Don't tell me you're blowing off this opportunity because you're hung up on that guy who ruined your life!"

"My life is not ruined, for your information," Erin snapped. "Connor came to see me yesterday."

"Here?" Tonia's jaw dropped. "In your apartment? What did he do? Did he come on to you? I'll shoot him if he came on to you."

"No! He didn't! He came to tell me that Novak and Georg Luksch broke out of prison. He's worried about my safety. He tried to persuade me not to go on this trip." No need to mention that intense hug, since it had been completely platonic. At least on his part, if not hers. "Actually, I thought it was sweet of him," she said hesitantly. "To warn me."

"Sweet?" Tonia snorted a derisive sound. "He wants into your pants. Sure, he saved you from the evil henchman of the big bad criminal, but you told me yourself that all that Georg did to you was flirt. And McCloud turned him into hamburger right in front of you. Maybe some girls go for that sort of thing, but you're not one of them."

It was painful to hear the facts laid out in Tonia's merciless style, but Erin nodded. "It was horrible."

"Watch out, Erin. This guy is violent, and wild, and dangerous. He's got a grudge against your dad, and he's way,
way
too interested in you. And you keep making excuses for him, like he's got some weird power over you, or something!"

"That's not true." She laid down the half-eaten sticky bun. Her appetite had faded away. "I don't think he means me any harm."

"No? He's insane if he tries to stop you from going on this trip. Anything that interferes with this client is harmful to you."

"I know." Erin stared out the window at the soot streaks on the wall of the adjoining building with hot, brimming eyes.

Tonia sighed. "I know it's hard. The whole clinic nursing staff was gooey about your devotion. Every single day, there you were to read to him. Like
Lassie Come Home
, or something. It was adorable."

Tonia's choice of metaphors was an uncomfortable one. "Tonia—"

"It broke our hearts, it was so romantic," Tonia barged on. "But it wasn't meant to be. He's just not good enough for you, Erin."

Erin shook her head. None of her friends or family knew that she'd visited Connor every day that he'd lain in a coma, but there had been no way to hide it from the nursing staff.

Her friendship with Tonia had begun one day when Tonia had found Erin crying in the ladies' room. Tonia had given her a tissue and a hug, and led her down to the cafe outside for coffee. For the first time ever, Erin had let it all pour out, and confessed her unrequited love, her longing and heartache. Her terror that Connor might never wake up.

"Sore subject, isn't it?" Tonia's taunting tone dragged her back to the present. "Truth hurts, don't it?"

Erin breathed through the urge to snarl until it was controllable. "Let's not talk about Connor anymore," she said evenly. "I turned down his offer. I'm going on my trip. I told him to leave me alone. I did all the right things, so there's no reason for you to scold me like this."

Tonia looked abashed. "You're so right. I am such a bitch sometimes. Forgive me?" She fluttered her long lashes.

Erin smiled reluctantly. "Of course."

"OK. Good. Let's move on to your wardrobe. If you take a cab to the station instead of a city bus, you will buy yourself just enough time to come home and raid my wardrobe before you go. Consider it an investment. If you land this guy, you will spend the rest of your days in the lap of luxury, shopping with your good friend Tonia. I have got the perfect suit and blouse for you. Wine-red, short skirt, and a tantalizing hint of that kick-ass cleavage you never take advantage of."

Erin smiled. "Thanks, but the zillionaire will just have to cope with the real me. I've just got to be true to my inner dowdiness."

Tonia made a frustrated sound. "Well, then, I'll be on my way. Help me get that cat of yours into the pet carrier, OK?"

"Remember her ear drops," Erin said anxiously. "It's four drops of vitamins in the wet food, plus one pill crushed up and sprinkled over her dry food, twice a day. She's already eaten this morning's pill."

Tonia rolled her eyes. "Next time you pick up a pet from the pound, try to pick a healthy one, would you?"

"But the healthy ones have a better chance of finding homes," Erin protested. "The sickly ones are doomed. I've got a soft spot for the underdog. Or undercat, as the case may be. Come on, Edna, let's go."

Edna hid under the bed, hissing and spitting. Erin finally managed to push her into the pet carrier and latch the door.

Tonia made a face. "I've got you now, my pretty, and I'm taking you to my lair where I'll make cat soup out of you." She gave Erin a hug. "Don't rule out what our mothers always told us,
chica
. It's as easy to fall in love with a rich man as an unemployed scumbag. 'Bye!"

Erin closed the door with a sigh. Tonia was the only one who knew about her feelings for Connor, but sometimes it seemed like Tonia enjoyed exploiting that tender spot. As if it gave her special power, to be the only one who knew. She poked at it, just to make Erin jump.

She reminded herself that Tonia was a good friend. It was she who had found her this apartment, it was she who had helped Erin move. Her other friends had drifted away when things got so grim, but Tonia had been right there, like a rock.

In spite of her strange personality quirks.

Connor eased the Cadillac into a parking space on the airport skyway level, and glanced at his watch. Erin's plane wasn't due to land for twenty minutes. It would take ten minutes or so for her to disembark and make her way to the luggage claim, where Mueller's limo driver was supposed to meet her.

Over his dead body.

His eyes fell on the sheaf of info that Davy had gleaned on Claude Mueller, scattered across the passenger seat. He'd memorized every fact. He should be relieved that Erin's mystery client checked out, but the ghost hand was squeezing his throat even harder. His instincts had never played him false before—but he'd never been in such a fucked-up state before, either. Even Sean and Davy thought he was going off the deep end. That made him feel so alone.

But he couldn't let it go. Not if Erin was at stake.

The only plan he'd come up with so far was to spirit her away from the airport without making a scene. A neat trick, considering that the old you-are-in-mortal-danger-and-only-I-can-save-you line had fallen pretty flat last night. He'd never been that smooth with the ladies. That was Sean's special talent, not his.

Thinking about Sean made him glance self-consciously into the rearview mirror. He'd made an effort today, but it hadn't done a whole lot of good. He'd put on the nicest shirt he could find, a rough-weave beige designer thing, a Christmas gift from the ever-hopeful Sean. The shirt still had creases from the packaging, and his chinos were crumpled from their sojourn at the bottom of the clean laundry basket, but that was too bad. There were some lengths to which he would not go, and ironing was one of them.

But he'd shaved. He'd combed his unruly blond mane, forced it to lie as smoothly as possible in a thick ponytail. His hair had always had a mind of its own. He should probably just chop it all off. Problem with cutting your hair, though, was that then you had to keep on cutting it. All the time. Big pain in the ass.

Oh, Christ, enough already. This wasn't a goddamn beauty contest. If he'd come here sporting his usual Clan of the Cave Bear hairdo, the airport National Guardsmen would've hauled him away before he even got in the door. Even decently groomed, dragging a beautiful, protesting young woman through an international airport was a delicate undertaking. The trick would be in that fateful split second that Erin caught sight of him.

He'd be lucky if she didn't scream.

He let his breath out slowly. He felt so damn nervous. He'd looked death in the face plenty of times and kept his cool, but one quiet, self-possessed girl scared him to death. Maybe he really was losing it. Interpol was dead sure that Novak was in Europe. Nick was convinced that Novak was no threat to Erin. Her mystery client checked out. There was no reason he could put his finger on to follow her around and hassle her. So why?

Fuck it. He just had to. It was one of those bone-deep feelings that could not be reasoned with. He shoved the Mueller papers into the glove compartment and got out of the car.

He could torture himself all day, and he would just keep limping along, following marching orders from an authority deep inside himself. His conscience, maybe. Davy and Sean called it his hero complex. He himself sometimes referred to it as dumber than shit, particularly when it almost got him killed.

It didn't really matter what it was called. Fact #1, he was doing a stupid, self-destructive thing that could prove to be dangerous, not to mention embarrassing. Fact #2, there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop himself. Conclusion?

Go for it.

First he checked out the shuttle carousel in the luggage claim, to see who was waiting for Erin. Sure enough, a big, dark-haired, Spanish-looking guy in a uniform was holding a sign that read "Erin Riggs." Connor scanned the rest of the crowd. His plan would only work if Erin hadn't checked her luggage. Chances were good she just had a carry-on, but with women, you never knew.

And she wouldn't take kindly to being separated from her bag. Hell hath no fury like a woman deprived of her toiletries.

He took the escalator back up. There was a quivery feeling in his belly. He glanced at his watch. Eight minutes. He sauntered over to the Coffee People booth in the mall, bought a cup, drank it down faster than he should. He fingered the bag of tobacco in his pocket. He should have had the presence of mind to have a quick smoke outside. Damn smoke-free environments.

Three more minutes to wait. Coffee had been a big mistake. He studied the people around him. A woman with a baby and a four-year-old boy jumping up and down, waiting for his dad to come home. An elderly couple, their faces creased with smiles as they waited for their grandkids. Finally, the shuttle passengers started trickling out. One minute… two… and there she was, dressed in a deep green suit. Hair swept up, gleaming. Gold earrings dangled beneath her ears. She looked so gorgeous, he wanted to kick himself for not at least attempting to iron the shirt. It wouldn't have killed him to try.

Too late for regrets. She was wheeling a carry-on suitcase behind her, thank God. Time to put his half-assed plan into action.

His heart slammed against his ribs like a jackhammer as she came through the gate. She still hadn't caught sight of him. He chose a diagonal collision course that brought him right up behind her, and grabbed her arm. "Hey, sweetheart."

She spun around. He took full advantage of her shocked confusion and yanked her closer, staring down into wide, startled gold-brown eyes. Her mouth was moist with tinted lip gloss, hanging open in adorable confusion.

"Good to see you again, babe." He scooped her close and tight against his body, and kissed her.

She stiffened, latching onto his upper arms for balance. She made a soft, frightened sound against his mouth.

He deepened the kiss, sliding his arm to the deep flare of her hip, splaying his hand over her beautiful ass. He hadn't planned on kissing her. The impulse had sneaked up on him, but it was perfect. Inspired. It all looked like lovers' play, and that soft, luscious mouth of hers was too busy to complain.