The Groom (18 page)

“You,” he whispered huskily.
“Just you.”

Her lips curved a bit at the
corners as he lowered his head to hers, taking her mouth in a rough dueling of
lips and tongue. He punished her, pressing against the plump pillows of her
lips with the force of his anger and sadness. She took it, accepted it, her
fingers fisting in his T-shirt as he ravaged her mouth. He sucked her bottom
lip between his, soothing it with his tongue, bringing a deep, throaty sound
from her. He sprang to life at the touch of her hands against his face, his
shaft filling with blood and roaring with the need for release. He grasped her
hips and pulled her against him, pressing it against her, grinding against her,
showing her what he needed as he fed off the pleasure living just within the
seam of her lips.

She reached down to touch him,
cupping him through the fabric of his sweat pants as her lips trailed past his
stubbled jaw, finding his pulse. Her tongue circled hotly on his skin as she
pulled at the drawstring keeping his pants up. Lyle groaned as she slipped
inside and gripped him, her palm blessedly cool against his hot skin.

“Let go,” she whispered against
his ear before nipping at the tingling shell. Lyle’s knees buckled as she
continued to fondle him, her fingertips gliding over the tip of him to the
base, before gripping and stroking firmly. His hips surged, desperate for more.
“Let me take care of you.”

Lyle closed his eyes in
surrender, even as he knew in the back of his mind that it was wrong to feel
such pleasure while Yolanda’s family was mourning her near death in a hospital
room. But nothing else mattered just then; not with Katrina freeing him from
his sweatpants and boxers before sinking to her knees in front of him. Twila
had left, deciding that Lyle needed peace and quiet, so there was no one there
to see them through the glass doors. Some people in the neighboring buildings
might get an eyeful, but Lyle did not care.

The old Lyle would have cared,
been embarrassed at the prospect of someone watching him. But this
Lyle—the one who filled his hands with cinnamon curls as he sank into a
cavern of heat, moisture, and pleasure—couldn’t think past the high of
feeling her lips wrapped around him. He leaned back against the rail and gave
himself over to her, his teeth gritted against the shockwaves that grew
stronger with every swirl of her tongue, every pull of her suckling mouth.
Every muscle in his body coiled and tensed and he held himself in check,
promising himself that he would not spend in her mouth, that he would save that
exquisite pleasure for when he was buried inside of her.

Yet, as much as he wanted that,
he could not bring himself to put an end to the beautiful torture being exacted
on him by a caramel skinned goddess, hair cascading over bare shoulders,
eyelids lowered over bronzed cheekbones.
 
Just the sight of her caused the tension to unfurl at the base of his
spine, hinting dangerously at a climax. His knees buckled.

“Kat,” he groaned, thrusting his
hips in time to her strokes even as he begged her to stop. “I can’t . . . you
have to . . . ah, I’m gonna . . .”

Katrina didn’t stop. If anything,
she seemed to take him deeper, encouraging him, emitting a low moan in the back
of her throat. The sound sent him over the edge, and he gripped the balcony as
his climax washed over him in roaring waves, causing him to tremble from head
to toe as the tension melted from his limbs, leaving him feeling as if he would
sink into a puddle at her feet.

When she pulled away and reached
for him, he went to her, pulling her against him and thanking her without words
for what that release had done for him. Still, he found himself wanting more as
he pulled his pants up over his hips. He raked his eyes over her body, encased
in nothing more than a shift dress that barely covered her thighs. He licked
his lips as his eyes zeroed in on one chocolaty nipple, visible through the white,
floral fabric. In the blink of an eye, he had her off the ground, legs wrapped
around his waist as he carried her into the house, barely making it to the
bedroom before he was ready for her again, hard and insistent between her hips
as he dropped her onto the mattress. She reached for him, pulling him down on
top of her and it was there that he lost himself, burying pain in an endless
sea of pleasure.

_____

They carried on for weeks as if
nothing existed outside of his apartment. Katrina came and left to teach her
classes and sing at Parson’s, flanked as always by Alessandro and his crew.
They were vigilant in their efforts to keep her safe, even as the news reported
several skirmishes between the Giordanos and Pirellis in New York’s streets.
Victor had retaliated and of course, Pirelli was not about to let that slide.
The war was on, with Katrina in constant danger of becoming a casualty.

While it was safer to remain
inside as much as possible, it was not the only reason she enjoyed the time
they spent sequestered away from the world. Lyle had immersed himself in her,
and while she knew it couldn’t be emotionally healthy for him to use her as an
outlet for his pain, Katrina was secretly pleased. That he’d turned to her
meant that she mattered as much to him as he did to her. Any doubts she’d had
about his feelings were gone as they spent their mornings swimming after
breakfast and making love on the weight bench in his personal gym, their
afternoons watching trashy T.V. and eating food ordered in from places that
used too much grease and not enough vegetables, their evenings in bed, entwined
in each other’s arms.

When Lyle’s leave was over, he
simply returned to work. There was no long discussion about his feelings, or
whether or not he was ready. The night before, the two sat quietly on the
balcony, where they shared dinner. When they were finished, he simply grabbed
her hand and took her to bed, loving her as feverishly as he had every night
before, seeming to lose the pent up emotion he was carrying with the spilling
of his seed. When the first day back to work passed uneventfully, Katrina knew
he’d been ready.

He’d only been back a week when
they pulled the plug on Yolanda. Dan called to warn Lyle before he came in that
day that the family had reached a decision after it was determined that Yolanda
was brain dead. With nothing but machines keeping her with them, it seemed
cruel to allow her to go on. As hard as Lyle wanted to fight for her, Katrina
knew he understood better than anyone how poor her quality of life would be if
they held on to her. She would live as a shell of herself, trapped in a body
that was nothing more than a casket for a once bright mind.

Katrina came to support him and
to say good-bye to one of the sweetest girls she’d ever known. Even in the
short time she’d known Yolanda, the girl’s vibrant spirit had impacted her. She
sat at her bedside, choking back sobs as Yolanda’s mother and father held each
other and cried. Dan performed the duty of removing her breathing tube and
turning off the respirator. She went down instantly, her vitals spiraling
steadily downward until she flat lined. Katrina was grateful when Dan turned
the monitor off, ending the long, ominous screech that told them she was really
gone.

_________

“IT WAS
GOOD of you to meet me on such short notice, Miss Dyer. I would have contacted
you sooner, but things have been hectic for me lately.”

Morgan nodded in understanding as
she sat across from him in the hospital cafeteria, briefcase resting on the
floor beside her sensible black pumps and slim leather portfolio on the table
in front of her. In his hands, Lyle held the paperwork she had given him
detailing the entire Healing Hands project. When he’d called and told her he’d
come to a decision regarding joining one of her medical teams, she hadn’t
hesitated to agree to a meeting at the hospital between surgeries. He’d been
back from his leave of absence for two weeks and was restless. The walls of the
hospital he had always loved now felt oppressive.

“I understand, Doctor,” she said.
“I am sure you have a busy schedule, as do I.”

Lyle quickly caught on to her
hint and got to the point. “I’ve given your offer very careful consideration.
It is a wonderful opportunity, one that I’m glad to have been offered. I’ve
decided to take you up on it, Miss Dyer. I would very much like to be a part of
what you’re doing. I’m willing to volunteer a year of my time for now, but I
suspect that I could find myself wanting to do more.”

Morgan nodded decisively, a hint
of what Lyle assumed could be a smile pulling at her doll-like mouth. She
really was a composed woman, one who didn’t seem given to showing any emotion,
positive or negative.

“Excellent. I’m glad to have you
aboard. As of this weekend there are currently three Healing Hands facilities
completed, fully stocked and ready to accept patients. All we need now are
staff members to treat them. When do you suppose you’ll be ready to depart?”

“Immediately,” he said without
hesitation.

As he said the words, he knew that
he was sure. He’d come to the decision days ago but was only just now saying
the words aloud. Yet, as sure as he was, apprehension knotted his gut.
Katrina’s face flashed through his mind, causing the knotting sensation to
intensify and tighten until he was nearly physically sick. She’d encouraged him
before to go and after all that had happened, he hoped she would still feel
that way when he told her he’d decided.

This decision wasn’t about her.
Losing Yolanda had made him question the impact his work had on people’s lives.
It made him dread walking the halls of Mount Sinai, and he often felt as if the
walls were closing in on him. Even nights spent in Katrina’s arms could not
lessen the sting. The moment he was away from her, the oppressive feeling was back,
smothering him, suffocating him, choking the life out of him. Time away and a
fresh focus would fix it, he’d decided a few nights ago while staring
sleeplessly at the ceiling.

Dr. Martinsburg, the Chief of
Surgery, was very receptive to the idea when Lyle had brought it to him the day
before. With Dan to act as head of the department in his absence, he knew that
the Chief was hoping Lyle would be ready upon his return to assume the Chief
position upon his retirement. Lyle went on letting him think that. For now, it
would serve him better. When he returned would be soon enough to let
Martinsburg know he had no intention of taking his place. By then he hoped
another talented surgeon would have proved just as capable for the job.

Katrina would support him, Lyle
knew that without question. It wasn’t her support that Lyle worried over. It
was her willingness to answer a question, one that had been burning deep in his
gut since the night he’d decided to go. He wanted—no—he needed her
to go with him. It was her presence in his life that had inspired him to want
to be more than just a doctor, more than just a man going about his mundane
life. It wouldn’t seem right without her.

Part of him knew she’d be excited
at the prospect of a new adventure. The other part worried that it was too
soon, that he was asking too much of her. He thought he’d come to know her well
enough, but deep down he still feared her impulsive nature. When faced with his
proposal, he couldn’t know if she would stay or run.

He had to try.

Morgan looked surprised, but
smothered the reaction quickly. “I am pleased with your enthusiasm, Doctor,”
she said. “Don’t pack your bags just yet. There are a lot of details to see to
before you can depart, the first of which will be assembling your team. This
evening, I’ll have several applications delivered to your address. You can
start with those and request more if you don’t find what you are looking for in
the first batch. I’ll be in touch with you periodically as we ensure that you
have a full health workup and the proper immunizations, the correct papers
drawn up for international travel, and of course, there is the matter of your
living quarters to be seen to. I foresee the preparations taking as long as six
months, but together I’m sure we can make every effort to make it happen
sooner.”

Six months. It was way more time
than he wanted to spend waiting, pushing against the constricting walls of the
hospital and trying to pretend as if things hadn’t changed. But he would do it;
he would do it with the promise of something better waiting for him on the
other side.

 
After ensuring that she had all of his
correct contact information, Lyle shook Morgan’s hand and parted ways with her.
For the rest of the day, he busied himself with figuring out how to convince
Katrina that dropping her life and moving to the other side of the world with
him for a year or longer was a good idea.

_____

When Katrina arrived home that
evening, Lyle was waiting for her. She smiled as she crossed the threshold,
dropping her guitar case near the door. After weeks of being here with him, it
was so easy for her to think of the sprawling penthouse as home. Everywhere
bright touches of color announced her presence in the house—a bouquet of
flowers on the table, an assortment of scented candles scattered across the
mantle, a paisley throw blanket she’d left draped over the back of the couch.
She and Lyle had settled into a comfortable companionship, one that she was
constantly afraid would end when Pirelli’s men found her or Lyle came to his
senses and realized that he couldn’t possibly carry on with her any longer.

Katrina shook those thoughts from
her mind as she noticed the faint glow of candlelight coming from the patio.
Lyle’s blond head was visible beneath the moonlight, his back to her as he
circled the table he’d decked out for a candlelit dinner. Katrina smiled and
hurried through the glass doors, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging
him tight.

“Hey you,” she said as he turned
in her embrace, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Something smells good.”

“I kicked Twila out of the
kitchen and cooked,” he said, gesturing toward the table.

“Hmmmm,” she sighed, burying her
face in his shirt and inhaling deeply. “I was talking about you, but the food’s
good too. I’m starving. What’s the occasion?”

He smiled down at her and pulled
her chair out. “Have a seat, beautiful. I have something important to talk to
you about.”

She watched him as he circled to
his side of the table, looking good enough to eat himself in a pressed baby
blue button-up shirt and black pants. His hair was immaculate, combed back from
his face in a style that curled her toes, and his glasses were absent, causing
the golden tones at the center of his irises to glow in the candlelight.

“First, how was your day?” he asked.
“Anything interesting happen?”

Katrina laughed as she thought
about the man who’d almost gotten himself killed approaching her outside of
Parson’s. She’d had mere seconds to call off Alessandro and his crew and point
out the fact that this man was neither Italian nor looking to do her harm.

“I met a music producer today,”
she said with a shrug. “Works for Interscope. Apparently, he’s been coming to
Parson’s for weeks now to hear me sing. Wants me to consider a record deal.”

Lyle’s eyes widened and his smile
was vibrant. “Are you kidding? That’s great!”

Katrina scoffed. “Yeah, ’cause
that’s going to happen.” He wrinkled his eyebrows as she dug into the salmon on
her plate. She groaned in appreciation and took another bite. “Good,” she
mumbled as she sampled the fragrant rice accompanying it.

“Wait a second,” Lyle said,
eyeing her as if she’d grown a second head. “You turned him down?”

Katrina paused, fork halfway to
her mouth. “A record deal is a trap,” she said. “I’m not interested in letting
some company shape me into some package to be bought and sold.”

“So don’t let them,” he argued.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple,” he said
dropping his fork onto his plate. “Katrina, this is the chance of a lifetime
and you have an amazing voice. There’s no reason you should continue hiding it
in a place like Parson’s.”

Katrina’s eyebrows shot up.
“What’s wrong with Parson’s?”

Lyle sighed, his shoulders
sagging. “Nothing, honey. You know I enjoy watching you there. But it’s such a
small stage, and you have a big talent. You have something that I’ve never seen
in anyone else, and now this producer has seen it too. Don’t you think you owe
it to yourself, to your Carmine and your mother, to see where it goes?”

Katrina tensed at the mention of
her family. Her mother would have been thrilled for something like this to
happen for her. Carmine would have told her to do it. Seeing their faces in her
mind only brought tears to her eyes, which she quickly swiped away.

“I don’t make plans,” she
reminded him, her tone clipped. “You know that.”

“Then what the hell are you doing
here with me?”

The question cracked through her
like a lightning strike, and as her eyes met his, she found frustration and
anger in the hazel depths. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched on the table.

“Are you telling me that I’m
wasting my time here?” he continued when she didn’t answer. “How much longer
are we going to go on pretending not to think past what we’re going to eat for
dinner? As much as I enjoy the spontaneity, at some point we have to look
forward, Katrina. We have to make plans. It’s what people do.”

Katrina leaped to her feet,
feeling her lungs constricting as something inside of her acknowledged that he
had a point. “Why does it matter? What difference does it make if we’re happy?”

Lyle stood as well. “Are you
happy, Katrina?”

“Of course I am!” she countered,
unsure of why she was practically screaming at him. “I am always happy, Lyle,
because I don’t do anything that I don’t want to do anymore. Which is why I
turned the guy down.”

“Is it that you don’t want to do
it?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest. “Or that you think you don’t
deserve it?”

Katrina gasped, feeling as if
she’d been punched in the gut. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I do. I do, and you know it.
When are you going to let it go, Katrina? When are you going to realize that no
matter how much bad you’ve done in your life, you deserve the best of
everything? And it’s not just about this record deal. It’s about the way you
try to keep me from taking things between us to the next level as much as I
want to do that. You won’t let me.”

Katrina clapped a hand over her
mouth, her free arm going around her middle as if the motion could contain the
emotions bubbling within. Tears sprang to her eyes and this time she couldn’t
stop them. How could he have known? Was he so perceptive that he could see what
she’d been trying to hide with her devil-may-care attitude?

“What do you know?” she
countered, going on the offensive so that the churning in her stomach would
stop. “How could you possibly know anything outside of your perfect, little
sheltered life?”

“Kat—”

“Look at me, Lyle! What are you
doing here with me? You’re absolutely right, there is no way we can continue
like this.”

Lyle’s expression softened, as did
his voice as he rounded the table and grasped her arms. “Kat, that’s what I
wanted to talk to you about. I wanted—”

She brushed his hands off,
backing away from the loving touch she had no right to feel. She had no right
to feel anything when Carmine had died and she’d survived, when her mother had
sacrificed her life for a daughter who would go on to become a drug addict who
would do anything to obtain the sweet bliss of a high.

“You should let me go,” she said
with a shrug. “This can’t possibly ever go anywhere. Besides, I ruin everything
I touch. Even if I were to take that record deal, I’d probably ruin that too.
Do you know how easy it is to get drugs in that environment? And you . . . I
would destroy you. You don’t deserve that.”

“Katrina, you have to stop doing
this. Let yourself move on.”

“I can’t.”

Before he could see the shame in
her eyes, she turned and ran, opting for the fire escape rather than the stairs
that would lead her down to where Alessandro and his crew were always waiting
and watching. As irrational as she knew it was, she needed solitude, a moment
to breathe without Lyle’s compassionate eyes burning a hole through her,
reminding her of everything she did not deserve. Ignoring his voice calling her
name, she vaulted over the side of the fire escape and began the long trek down
the stairs to the street. Her feet couldn’t hit the pavement fast enough and
when they did, she exploded out into the night, taking deep gulps of air as the
urge to go running back into Lyle’s arms consumed her.