Imminent Conquest (22 page)

Nicole stepped back. Blatant fear inched down her spine. On the other hand, she felt overwhelming relief to see Michael hadn't been badly hurt. She shivered despite the warmth in the kitchen. How could she have so callously sprayed his face with Mace? She tried to convince herself she hadn't stepped over the line spraying Mace in Michael's face and dumping his car. Guilt swept over her. He was still as handsome as ever. Her heart lodged in her throat. With her foolish hope for revenge, she had just killed any chance she had of gaining his love. They were finished. Forever.

A great sense of loss descended on her. Now she knew what had been missing when she had walked down the mountain road.

"What did you do?” he demanded.

She thought to ask what he meant but he knew her too well and the question wouldn't wash well with him. He was between her and the door, making escape impossible. She felt the sudden urge to bury her forehead against his shoulder and cry, for the time they had lost and which they never would regain because of her foolish actions. Since they no longer had a chance together, the only option left was to drive him away. “I thought the message I sent was very strong.” Too late, she realised the double meaning behind her choice of words.

"I got it but that's not why I'm here."

She quelled her rising panic.

"You're in a lot of trouble,” he continued, “because of that childish prank."

"Childish prank?” Her eyes were drawn to his broad chest and his biceps. He looked good enough to ravish, she thought, swallowing hard. But that would never happen now.

"There's other ways to tell a man you don't want him in your life. You could just come out in the open and tell him that, not spray Mace in his face and take his car for a test drive up a mountainous road.” He moved forward on a collision course with her.

"Don't you dare come closer!"

"Please come, Nicole. Even if you don't find an ounce of love for me in your heart, for your safety, come with me."

"Safety? Is this some kind of joke?” She was puzzled by his words. She wasn't in any danger.

His eyes narrowed. He brushed the back of his hand across his forehead. “The cops are looking for you,” he said grimly. “As far as they can see, you've murdered a man."

"What are you accusing me of?” She couldn't begin to think what he might be talking about.

"I want to help you, but you have to let me. Despite our recent differences.” He came a few inches closer.

"I don't need your help.” How could she be a murderer? Why did the cops feel the need to look for her? She was innocent. She straightened her shoulders, ready to do battle.

Michael brushed the back of his hand across his forehead. “The cops wanted to investigate the burned-out car even though I protested you had done it simply as a prank. They found a body in the trunk."

"What are you talking about?” A body? How had it got there? She was horrified. Was he setting her up? Had she fallen right into his trap? She would go to prison even if she wasn't guilty. And after the realisation she was still in love with him. Life wasn't fair.

He moved forward again, looking as intent as a cat at its prey. If she hadn't known him better, she wouldn't have seen the slight hint of tension in the set of his shoulders.

"There was no one else in the car. No one but me,” she protested.

"I'll explain later. There isn't much time before they come. I know you're innocent. You wouldn't have murdered anyone."

"Murdered?” Nicole repeated like a parrot. “Before who comes?"

"The cops."

"I didn't kill anyone. I swear that's the truth."

He nodded. “Because you drove the car into the ravine that makes you a primary suspect in the murder investigation. Too many people saw you take my car and the taxi driver swears he brought you down the mountain and he had the records to prove it."

"Who was it?” she whispered, not comprehending the magnitude of the charges Michael had levelled against her.

"Brad didn't show up for work today. It might be him. The cops say the body and Brad have the same bone structure."

"No.” She recoiled. “Why are you saying this? Don't you know I would never stoop to murder, like you did? And what would I have gained by killing Brad? There was no one in there. I swear."

"You wouldn't have known a body was in the trunk."

"Oh, my God. I set the car on fire. He might still have been alive.” The floor slid out from under her. She almost crumpled to the floor but Michael caught her in mid-slide.

"We've got to go, Nicole. There's no way I'm going to allow you to go through what I did."

"I swear there was no one in your car.” Bile rose in her throat at the thought that someone had been in the trunk of Michael's car as she had stolen it, driven it up the mountainside and burned it.

"I believe you."

His simple words made her closely examine him. She couldn't help her face lifting to his. Both their lips met in a bittersweet kiss, long and passionate, as they held on to each other with all the strength they possessed.

Abruptly, he pulled away, his features set in hard lines. “We've got to go, sweetheart."

Her knees went weak again, and he seemed to sense her exhaustion. He continued to hold on to her. He was powerful, both emotionally and physically, someone she could have counted on.

"I can't let you take me anywhere. I'm innocent and will face them and tell them the same thing."

"I can't let you stay."

"Don't you hear me? I'm innocent."

"I know. But it looks like you're guilty, and right now that's all that matters."

"What are you getting at?” Dared she trust him to tell the truth? Was he making up another of his malicious lies?

"The day I was arrested, there was no evidence outside of what you said, that I was guilty. Simply because I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't want the same thing to happen to you. Please. We have to go."

"I won't go,” she said stubbornly.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life in prison? Take it from me, it's not something you want to do. Especially if you're innocent. It's the worst kind of place even for a hard-core criminal."

His words were spoken with gentle forthrightness. Nicole couldn't disbelieve him. “But won't you put your freedom at risk for me?"

"Because I'm a convicted felon running with a suspect?"

She nodded.

"I'd put everything I have, including my life, at risk to make sure you didn't go through the hell I did."

Nicole felt the uneasy loneliness again. “When can we come back?"

He looked straight into her eyes. “Maybe never."

Hopelessness invaded every pore of her being. “I'm innocent. I won't spend my life running."

"The system is biased. If you look guilty, by default you are. There's no such thing as ‘innocent until proven guilty'. I found that out the hard way."

She reached out to graze his cheek. “I thought I hated you—"

Brusquely, he cut her off. “We don't have time for that now. Do you have anything of sentimental value you want to bring?"

"My figurines,” she replied, hurt he wouldn't listen to her side of the story. The figurines had been gifts from her parents to celebrate milestones in her life. They were the only reminders she had left of her mother and father.

Hurriedly, Michael found some paper bags and together they wrapped and packed the tiny crystal pieces.

"What about my clothes? My job?” Nicole asked as she placed the last crystal in the paper bag.

"Don't worry about those. Let's go."

She had no other choice than to put her trust and faith in a man she thought she could easily live without. She walked out, without looking back at her home, fully knowing she might never see it again.

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"I want you to go inside as if you don't have a care in the world. Then bring her out to look at the stars or whatever."

"There are no stars,” Bryan grumbled as he scanned the outside of his darkened house. “It's snowing like a bastard."

"Tell her you want to see a special snowflake. Tell her anything, but get her out here. In five minutes or less."

"What a stupid thing to tell a woman. No wonder you don't have anyone in your life,” Bryan muttered.

"Just mind your own damned life, will you?"

Still shaking his head at Colin's lack of romantic notions, Bryan said, “And if I don't?” He couldn't see what had Colin's underwear all knotted up. How could his sweet Cathy owe him anything? She didn't even know him.

"I guess you'll have to meet with your Maker sooner than you expect."

"Going from severe bodily harm to death. You must be desperate. By the way, they're both felonies."

Colin's lips thinned to a taut line. “If I have to. It's no loss to me."

"You're making me a bloody accomplice,” Bryan said, raising his voice. He put his hand on the handle, ready to open the truck's passenger door. Too late, he realised he should have thrown himself out of the truck at one of the two stop signs, like the stuntmen did in the movies. Naw, he would have had to walk home in the snow.

"She owes me."

Bryan banged the door closed before Iceman could say more and tried to urge his mind to form a plan to get Cathy out of the house without Colin seeing her first. Colin couldn't be everywhere at once.

He marched in, tracking snow on the beige carpet and across the kitchen floor but there was no sign of her. Unbidden, his thoughts turned to her naked perfection, and her lush areolas that invited his touches and kisses. Yow, mama, but she was a hot number. And now he had Colin breathing down not only his neck, but hers.

The house was as quiet as the inside of a tomb. A tap dripped monotonously in the kitchen. Bryan dreaded finding Cathy and wondered anally if Colin was watching from one of the windows. He wasn't exactly the kind of man to whom trust came easily. In the bedroom, the bed was neatly made. There were no panties, bra or pantyhose to proclaim her presence. It was as if she had never been there. He searched for several minutes hoping he wouldn't find his little siren with the luscious, big breasts. Sadness gripped him. He had really wanted to know Cathy better, not just from a physical perspective. Maybe her motto was ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em'. He sighed heavily, crushed she had left.

Had she known Colin was looking for her and vamoosed? Happy that perhaps she had an inkling that Colin was after her, but distressed she had left so abruptly and without saying goodbye, he wondered what he would tell Colin, the madman.

"So where's the bitch?"

Startled, Bryan spun around. Colin had walked in as silently as a jaguar on the prowl.

"Why the hell can't you walk like everyone else?"

"And how would that be?” Colin frowned, which didn't do much to enhance his pitbull expression.

"Loud. So everyone can hear you."

Colin pretended to think about it. “Nope. Can't do that. So where is she?"

"I don't know."

Bryan stood in the middle of the kitchen, pondering where Cathy could have gone.

"The hell you don't. You hid her in one of the closets, thinking I'm too dumb to look in there.” Iceman stomped up the stairs, as if he was quite familiar with the place, and threw open the master bedroom's closet door with such force the hinges broke and the panel crashed to the floor.

"Listen, jerkface. I didn't put her anywhere. She's not here. Period."

"Likely story,” Colin snorted. “She's hiding in a closet somewhere. I'll find her if you won't.” He ran into the other bedroom and ripped the door off there too.

"Doggone it, Ice. I just fixed the damned thing this morning."

"It'll give you something to do over the holidays,” Colin replied callously. He stood stock still.

Bryan thought for sure the burly man was thinking. The doors being ripped off their hinges replayed in Bryan's mind. “You were in here yesterday,” he concluded. How many men did he know who could walk into another man's house and treat it with such disregard?

"Really? Then why don't I know about it?"

"Where are my photographs?"

"Photographs? Why would I trouble myself over that kind of crap?"

"You broke in, but you didn't steal any photos?"

"Never touched them. Don't have a clue what you're yakking about."

The denial struck Bryan as odd. There was nothing missing except the old family photographs, treasures to remind him of his past, but they couldn't be more than junk to another man. “You break into my house and you tell me not to get worked up? What happens if I turn the tables and bust into your house and turn everything upside down?"

"Upside down?” Colin asked, giving him a quizzical look.

"My whole house was a mess. Drawers and their contents all over the floor as if someone had sifted through all my belongings.” Bryan's rage festered. He felt violated, as if his most personal possessions were no longer his own but public property for everyone to gawk at.

"If it was a mess, it wasn't my doing."

Squinting, Bryan considered Iceman's words. “You didn't break in here?"

"Why would I?"

"You turned everything upside down."

Bryan found himself thrown against the wall and being held helpless as Colin jammed his forearm against his throat.

"You want to know something, cousin? I'm a trained mercenary. If I didn't want you to know I was behind you, you'd never have a clue. Why? ‘Cause I walk as silent as a panther. I've killed men who had no inkling they were being hunted during their final moments. Don't fuck with me. If I was inclined to break in, I would have simply torched it. Got that?"

Bryan nodded although he hadn't changed his opinion one iota. Why had Colin stolen the photographs? The pressure of the other man's arm eased against his throat.

Colin set Bryan on his feet and brushed off his overalls. “You should take better care of yourself, buddy."

Having never met a mercenary before, but having no problem believing Ice had a career killing people, he asked, “What's with the mercenary gig?"

"It's a job. Pays better than most."