Deliver Me (16 page)

“Alicia, go home.”

“Just tell me why you ended it, Elijah. I want answers.”

Eli’s mind fumbled as he tried to think of something to say. He couldn’t
come up with a single viable excuse. He couldn’t tell her that he
never
dated a woman for more than a
month.

Once again, he would
have to rely on his old, faithful excuse to get him through yet another
situation.

“You know I have a very demanding job,” Eli said with sincerity he didn’t
feel. “I couldn’t spend as much time with you as you deserved. I was only
thinking about you, Alicia. I didn’t think it was fair.”

It was starting to sound like bull even to his own ears. But it did the
trick. Alicia’s lips formed a sexy pout, but Eli could tell she had relented.
She captured his chin between her thumb and forefinger.

“I knew it had to be something like that. Thanks for being so considerate,
but don’t let it concern you. I knew working around your schedule would be
tough, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m willing to take you anyway I can get
you.” She leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Eli swallowed
audibly.

“I’ll see you later,” she whispered, then turned and headed for the door,
stopping to pick up the key she had dropped.

Eli stood motionless for several minutes. He did not take a breath until
he heard the click of the front door closing behind his uninvited visitor.

“Damn.” His low whisper reverberated off the bathroom walls.

He covered his face with his hands and slumped back onto the vanity. He
took several deep breaths, drawing as much air into his lungs as he possibly
could. For a second there, when she had him cornered against the bathroom
counter, Eli wasn’t sure how many breaths he had left.

What was he going to do?

There was one thing at the top his list. The locks were being changed
tomorrow.

He ripped the electric shaver loose on his jaw and neck, splashing on
aftershave when he was done. He quickly slipped into his clothes and headed out
of the house, cautiously aware that Alicia was probably lurking somewhere
nearby.

It was eleven-thirty before Eli pulled onto I-610. He was going to be so
late. Another reason to strangle Alicia.

The Louisiana sun was out in full force, turning every surface it touched
into a stovetop. Eli cranked the AC up another notch as he maneuvered the wide
vehicle through the narrow French Quarter streets. He pulled up to the address
Monica had given him.

Eli noted the chipped pale pink paint on the building’s façade. He knew
it was considered part of the charm, but to him the French Quarters was nothing
but a bunch of old buildings.

He cut the engine and got out of the car, waiting for a produce truck to
pass before heading for the building’s front door. Just as he reached for the
handle, the wrought iron door opened and Monica stepped out.

Eli had to stop himself from letting out a low whistle. He knew enough
about her to know she would take offense. Still, he couldn’t help but stare as
she stood before him in an airy sundress.

She was charmingly petite, with slim arms and legs and a perfect all
around body. He liked it when a woman was smaller than him. He knew from
personal experience that statuesque runway-types were not all they were cracked
up to be.

“Good morning,” Monica said.

“Good morning.” Eli walked her around to the passenger side, opened the
door and made a sweeping motion with his hand.

“Thank you,” she said as she slid her slim form onto the leather seat.

Eli rounded the front of the car and slid behind the wheel. He checked
his mirrors and adjusted the interior temperature controls.

“Is it too cold for you?”

“I’m from St. Louis, remember? I’m used to the cold. This stifling
humidity that everyone seems oblivious to is a different story. I don’t know if
I can get used to actually feeling the air on my skin.”“

He chuckled. “We’re not oblivious, just used to it. It’s one of the few
drawbacks to living down here in the very deep South.”

“That and the drivers.” She sent him a sideways smile.

Eli shook his head. “If it takes standing in the middle of the highway
and letting you run me over with your car, I will make up for my past vehicular
transgressions.”

“Vehicular transgressions? Is that a new way of saying ‘hit and run’?”
she asked, the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth bring a matching grin
to Eli’s lips.

“Will you ever let me off the hook?”

“Nope.” The laughter in her voice was contagious. It had been a long time
since he’d had the desire to engage in the humorous banter that came naturally
whenever he was with Monica. It was comfortable. Effortless.

She reached over and upped the volume on the car stereo. “Who’s this?”

“Some new jazz artist. My brother sent it to me. He’s an aspiring record
producer.”

“Really.” She looked impressed.

Eli tried not to roll his eyes. “The great Tobias Holmes. He played ball
at St. Johns, was even drafted by the Wizards, but he was in a car accident a
few weeks before the pre-season and suffered severe damage to his spine. Even
with physical therapy, it was too much to overcome.”

“So he never got the chance to play?” Monica asked.

“Not one professional game.”

“That must have been tough.”

“For any normal person. But Toby is one of those people who are destined
to be in the spotlight. When he realized the basketball career was over, he
latched onto music.”

They drove along the winding Great River Road that butted against the
Mississippi River.

“It doesn’t look like this area was hit as hard by Katrina,” Monica
commented as they passed a string of wood-frame houses that would have never
withstood the fierce winds of the storm.

“The storm was too far east to cause much damage here. So, what made you
choose New Orleans,” Eli asked after some time had passed. “Or, should I ask,
what made you leave St. Louis?”

Her expression changed, and Eli knew his question had wandered into
None-of-Your-Damn-Business Land. Monica surprised him by actually providing an
answer.

“They were cutting back at the hospital, so I got out before they could
give me the ax.”

“A doctor with your reputation? I doubt you would have been included in
the cuts.”

She shrugged her slim shoulders. “It was time for a change. I’d lived in
St. Louis most of my life. It seemed like a good time to try somewhere new, and
I wanted to help in the recovery effort going on down here.”

“I guess Methodist Memorial lucked out, then.”

She looked over at him with genuine gratitude gleaming in her brown eyes.
“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re very welcome,” he answered.

For some unfathomable reason, Eli found himself needing to learn more
about her. She was hiding something. He could sense it in the way her body
tensed whenever he mentioned anything remotely personal. Monica Gardner had
secrets, and nothing turned him on more than a woman with a past.

An inner alarm warned Eli to be careful. Alicia was one of many who had
caught him with that seductive, mysterious facade.

Well, that and the whipped cream.

But look where that had gotten him. His heart skipped a terrified beat
every time he ran across a white car. It didn’t even have to be a BMW. He
needed to leave mystery right where the hell it was—out of his life.

Thankfully, Monica’s head seemed firmly planted on those delicate, softly
curved shoulders. Other than this secret Eli suspected she kept hidden, she was
about as normal as any other woman he had dated.

No, that was a lie. Normal didn’t do her justice. Normal suggested she
was average, and if there was one thing he had learned about Monica Gardner
these last few weeks was that she was nowhere near average.

The fact that she was gorgeous was obvious the minute she stepped into a
room, but her face was but a small facet of what made her special. Eli saw her
true beauty in the soothing touches she shared with frightened patients, the
reassurance she imparted to their nervous loved ones. Monica had a calming way
about her that beckoned comfort and ease.

As if that wasn’t enough, she hid a killer body under her scrubs. The
woman had serious curves. More and more, he felt the desire to explore them.

That was his new goal, to see exactly what she had under those clothes.

After several more miles traveled in comfortable silence, they came upon
the first plantation home on their schedule. Eli turned onto a white graveled
road nestled under an awning of towering oaks. A large, ostentatious mansion
broke into view from behind a thick covering of trees.

“It looks different from the brochure,” Monica commented as they parked
in the grassy area a few feet from a wooden gazebo.

Eli cut the engine and made his way to the other side of the car. He held
her door as she stepped out.

“I heard some company from up North bought this plantation a few years
ago, and it’s starting to lose some of its authenticity.”

Eli turned and studied the front façade. The elaborate shiny brass
hardware on the doors was definitely not from the late eighteen hundreds. He
was sure the large ceiling fans twirling lazily above the front porch were not
there during the Civil War, either.

“It’s still very nice. I’m not necessarily looking for a place with
historical significance, I just think the character would add something special
to the banquet.”

Eli followed Monica to the door and depressed the doorbell. He snorted.
Yeah, they had
those
a couple of
centuries ago. The door opened and a young woman appeared. She stared at them
with a curious look. “Can I help you?”

“We were hoping for a tour,” Monica said, holding up the brochure.

“Oh, I’m sorry. They stopped giving tours over a year ago. This is a
private residence now. You can try San Francisco Plantation just down the
river, or cross the bridge and go to Oak Alley. That’s one of the more famous
ones.”

“It’s on my list,” Monica answered. “Sorry we bothered you.”

They turned and started for the car.

“Just how old
is
that brochure,”
Eli asked as he backed the Range Rover away from the gazebo and started back up
the driveway.

Monica’s head fell back against the seat. “How embarrassing.”

“Maybe we should have called first.” Eli turned east.

“Can you imagine living
in a place like that? I have never had someone ask to tour my house, I can
promise you that.”

“Would you even want too? It probably takes them ten minutes to walk from
the bedroom to the bathroom.”

“It’s still amazing.”

Eli caught the wistfulness in her voice, and wondered about its source.
Had she been forced to live in a tiny little apartment while growing up, and
had always dreamed of a big, fancy home? Did she just have a love for things
old? He knew so little about her.

Usually, that suited him fine. The less he knew about a woman, the easier
it was to cut her off at the end of the four-week period. But it was different
this time. He actually
wanted
to
learn more about Monica. A trace of sweat broke out across Eli’s brow as
something akin to panic lodged in his throat.

The next plantation they visited was up and running, but there were no
tours due to a termite infestation.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Monica shouted at the car’s ceiling once
they were back on the road.

“We’re batting oh for two.”

“It’s depressing.”

“I don’t think plantation hunting is in the cards for today.”

She sighed, then asked, “Do you want to stop somewhere for a bite to eat
before going to your niece’s party? I do owe you lunch.”

“Nah. There’s going to be plenty of food there. You can pick up the tab
at dinner tonight.”

Monica turned to face him. “You think you’re pretty slick, don’t you?
Will this dinner cost me a fortune?”
 

“Nah. I’ll take it easy on you this time.”

“This time? That makes it sound like a next time is a given.”

He lifted his shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Pretty much.”

“Are you always this sure of yourself, Dr. Holmes?” Her eyes glittered
with easy humor.

Eli’s mouth eased into a slow, confident smile. “Pretty much.”

Amanda waited for a
break in traffic, crossing the street after the blue Chrysler rolled by. She
walked through the double doors of the nondescript two-story building.

“Good morning, Mrs.
Daniels,” the receptionist said.

“Hello, Gloria,”
Amanda answered. “Dr. Berkenshire agreed to see me today.”