Cajun Magic 02 - Voodoo for Two (14 page)

“What the hell?” Eric clapped his hand on her head and shoved her to the wooden planks of the landing.

“Ouch!” Tiny slivers of glass were embedded in her hands and knees. “Why the hell did you do that?” She tried to rise, but Eric held her down, crouching next to her.

Bang!

Her heart leaped into high gear. The first bang she’d attributed to the glass exploding, but the second one had nothing to do with a faulty lightbulb. “What was that?”

“Gunfire. Give me your key.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“My purse fell down there,” she pointed to the ground ten feet below. “Damn, and this was my best dress.” She tugged at her skirt to keep her butt cheeks from lighting the evening sky. Then she reached up to pull the top securely over her breasts to keep them from falling out.

So much for her go-to-hell red dress. She’d hate to die all exposed. Why didn’t they make sexy dresses for dodging bullets? She should design an all-purpose dress for today’s woman. Built to last under the worst conditions, rain, snow, bullets—

“Gerald? You okay down there?” Eric called out to the chauffeur below.

“Yes, sir,” he responded from somewhere beneath the stretch limousine.

Eric fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and punched 9-1-1. “This is Eric Littington. Someone is shooting at us. We’re at Lucie LeBieu’s apartment. You know the place? Fifteen minutes? That long? Yes, we’ll stay low.” He hit the end button and looked sideways at Lucie. “Stay low? We’re perched on a friggin’ deer stand, prime targets for anyone with half an aim. Are you okay? Not hurt, or anything?”

Lucie’s lips twisted in a wry grin. “Nothing but my pride.” And her dress.

He smoothed her hair out of her face. “Sit tight, I’m going to find out who was shooting.”

Her hand reached out to hold his. “Don’t, Eric, it’s dangerous.”

“I can’t just stay here and wait. The guy might get away before the police get here.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Are you kidding?” Eric grabbed her shoulders and held her away from him, his knitted brows a big indication of his concern. “You could have been killed!”

“And you could be killed.”

He shoved his cell phone at her. “Hit 5 and the talk button. I’m going after the guy.”

“But—” Eric ran down the stairs and across the narrow driveway to the bushes on the other side. “Come on, Gerald. Let’s catch us a prankster.”

“Yes, sir.” The chauffeur rolled from beneath the car and raced after him.

“Eric!” Lucie climbed to her knees and stared after his disappearing figure.

Bang!

Down on her stomach again, Lucie remembered Eric’s instructions and dialed 5.

After barely an entire ring, a curt male voice answered. “Boyette.”

“Ben? Oh, thank God!” A sudden sense of relief washed over her, quickly followed by confusion. “Why does Eric have you on speed dial?”

Chapter Fourteen

Ben slowed his exterminator truck, pressing the cell phone to his ear. He’d been halfway back from the restaurant in Morgan City, kicking himself for missing Lucie and Eric, and consumed by thoughts of the two together. Had he been so entrenched in images of Lucie in Eric’s arms that he’d conjured this call? He held the device away to glance at the phone number. Eric’s name was written in digital letters across the white screen. “Lucie? Why are you dialing from Eric’s cell?”

“Because he’s off in the bushes chasing after some nutcase with a gun.” Was that a sniffle? “You didn’t answer my question.”

Ben’s heart thumped against his rib cage, his cop instincts and adrenaline kicking into overdrive. “What do you mean, a nutcase with a gun?”

“Just what I said. Someone took a couple potshots at us, and I ruined my best dress ducking the bullets.”

The kick in his gut made him pull his foot off the accelerator. “Holy shit! Lucie, where are you?”

“At my apartment.”

He jammed the accelerator to the floorboard. “Stay put. I’ll be right there.”

“Tell me you’re not going to take fifteen minutes like the sheriff?” Despite her complaints about ruining her dress, her voice shook.

“Make it two, sweetheart.” He was still four miles from Bayou Miste, but the fear in her voice spurred him to go faster.

She sighed into his ear. “That’s more like it. Now, hurry, before Eric gets hurt.”

“Don’t hang up, darlin’.”

“Are you kidding? You’re stuck with me.”

His heart surfaced from his apprehension for her safety to let her words wash over him.
You’re stuck with me
.

If only she meant for life…

As he skidded into her driveway, his heart lodged in his throat. Other than Eric’s limo, the driveway was dark and appeared deserted. He leaped from his bug exterminator truck and shouted, “Lucie!”

“Ben?” A shaky voice sounded from the top of her landing and her dark head peered out from between the railings.

“
Merci Dieu
.” He released the breath he’d been holding and raced up the stairs.

Lucie eased up to her knees, tears glistening in the moonlight like the shards of glass littering the landing.

Without a thought for Eric, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. Her warmth dispelled the cold, sick feeling he’d had in his helter-skelter race to get here. He smoothed his hand over her hair and down to her bare shoulders. Her skin against his made the old flame in his heart burn even higher.
Lucie, Lucie. Why did you send me away?
his heart cried out. But his mouth remained mute, pressed to her temple.

When her body shuddered against him, he set her away and pushed the hair from her eyes. “You have glass in your hair.”

She smiled shakily up at him, tears pooling in her eyes. “That’s not the only place I have glass.” She held up her hands, where tiny slivers had cut into her tender skin. Blood oozed from the miniature wounds.

His stomach clenched. He was used to seeing blood from more extensive and sometimes mortal wounds. But not on her. He pulled her hand close and stared down at it. “We need more light.”

“My hands can wait, I’m more concerned about Eric and the chauffeur.”

His tender thoughts exploded in a rush of apprehension. Oh yeah, Eric. His responsibility and his friend. How could he forget? “I’ll find them. You go inside.”

She frowned and hesitated.

“For once, don’t argue, Lucie.” His fingers tightened on hers. “I can’t go after Eric until I know you’re safe.”

Her frown disappeared. “I wasn’t going to argue. It’s just that I can’t get in. I dropped my purse below the steps when the light exploded.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll find it. You stay here. But stay down.”

Without protest, Lucie crouched in her red dress, her eyes going round again as she peered into the darkness.

He took the steps two at a time, and scrambled among the gravel and weeds until he spotted a thin black shadow that proved to be an evening bag.

Ten seconds later, he had her door open and Lucie escorted into the apartment. He pressed a brief kiss to her lips when he would rather have folded her in his arms and drowned in her. “I’ll be back as soon as I find Eric.”

“Someone looking for me?” Eric’s voice called out from the bottom of the steps.

Lucie stared up at Ben for a moment, her lips poised as if for another kiss. Then she blinked and her face flushed a rosy pink. The moment was gone.

“Eric!” She rushed out the doorway and met Eric halfway down the stairs, hugging him tight as if he were the only person she could ever love.

Ben stood at the top of the stairs telling himself the sight of Lucie in another man’s arms didn’t bother him. But it did. “Ah-hem. Think you two can knock it off enough to tell me what happened?”

Eric circled Lucie’s waist with his arm and walked her up the stairs. “Sorry, Ben. Shall we go inside where I can fill you in while we wait for the sheriff?”

Only if you get your hands off my girl
, Ben wanted to say, but couldn’t. Lucie wasn’t his girl anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time. And by the looks of it, she was Eric’s girl now. But that didn’t stop the surge of possessiveness flooding through his body. He needed to hit something, preferably his friend Eric.

As Eric and Lucie climbed the steps, Ben heard a siren in the distance. Eric paused with his foot on the last step and shook his head. “
Now
they come.”

The wailing increased until a sheriff’s sedan slid sideways into Lucie’s driveway.

Lights went on in windows of the nearby houses. Mozelle Reneau opened her front door. “Lucie, what the fool-darn-heck is going on?”

“Don’t worry, Miz Mozelle, I’ll fill you in tomorrow,” Lucie called down to her landlady.

Mozelle squinted. “That you, Ben?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The deputy leaped from his squad car, weapon drawn. “I’m here, everyone just stay calm.”

“I’d be a heap happier if you’d point that pistol at something besides me, Billy Ray,” Mozelle called out.

“It’s okay, deputy,” Eric said. “Whoever did the shooting is long gone.”

“And how do I know
you
didn’t do the shooting?” the deputy asked, turning his pistol to point at Eric.

“Because he was the one being shot at!” Lucie stomped her foot. “Put the gun away before someone gets hurt, Billy Ray.”

As if disappointed he didn’t get to shoot anyone, the deputy dropped the muzzle of his Glock. “You sure he’s gone?”

“Yes. I chased him past the marina before I lost him.”

“Damn. I always wanted to apprehend a perp.” Billy Ray shoved his weapon into its leather holster.

“Maybe next time,” Ben said from the top of the stairs.

Billy Ray took a deep breath and blew it out on a huge sigh. “Someone want to tell me what happened here?”

Eric looked up at Lucie, standing on the landing. “Will you be all right?”

Lucie nodded.

Eric turned and descended the narrow steps. “I’ll fill you in.”

“You’ll need to come down to the sheriff’s office to fill out a report.”

Eric looked back at Ben. “Could you take care of Lucie while I follow the good deputy to file my report?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, his night suddenly looking less grim, “I’ll take care of her.”

“Lucie, I’m sorry the evening turned out this way. I’d planned it to be very special, really unforgettable.”

Lucie laughed uneasily. “Mission accomplished. I guarantee I’ll never forget tonight.”

“See you tomorrow?” Eric gazed up at her with that lovesick-cow plea in his blue eyes.

Ben wanted to puke.

Especially when Lucie nodded.

Eric turned back to the deputy. “Let’s get this over with.” Then he climbed into the rear of the limo, Gerald assuming the driver’s position. After the deputy backed out of the driveway, the limousine followed.

“You two sure you’re okay?” Mozelle asked again, hope in her voice. “I got some beignets I can warm up in a jiffy.”

“No thanks, Miz Mozelle.” Lucie pushed her hair out of her face with the back of her hand. “I’m so tired I can’t see straight.”

“Thanks, but I think we’ll pass, Miz Mozelle. Good night,” he said with added emphasis.

Mozelle disappeared behind her door, leaving him and Lucie alone on the landing.

“Come on, let’s clean you up.” He hooked Lucie’s elbow and guided her back into the garage apartment, wondering how the evening had ended up in his favor yet again. Hell, why was he looking a gift horse in the mouth? Eric had asked him to take care of Lucie. Ben had every intention of doing just that.

…

“Damn, damn, damn,” Lucie muttered. Her world was knocked askew from earlier that day when she’d known what her goal was and had pursued it relentlessly. Eric was her future, Ben was her past.

Past, past, past
.

Why did Eric have to be so nice and trusting? How could he not have a clue about Ben and his impact on her resistance?

Didn’t he have even an inkling of how hard she was trying not to feel it? She wanted to marry Eric, not Ben. Then why the hell did she feel more secure and at the same time completely off-balance when around Ben?

And now, just when she was most vulnerable, she was stuck with the jerk.

The jerk smiled. Not an I-got-you-cornered-smile, but a gentle one. Why? Why? Why did he have to go and get all kind and sweet? She was doomed.
Doomed!

She felt her walls crumbling. But she had to make an effort to forestall the inevitable. “Look, Ben, I can handle it from here. You don’t have to stay.”

“I made a promise to Littington. I keep my promises.”

Ouch
. She cringed. That barb hurt more than the glass shards in her hands. She knew he was referring to their broken engagement. But hell, she’d had reasons to break it off. Damned good reasons. But he still hadn’t gotten it, and he probably never would. No use rehashing ancient history. “If I ask you to leave, would you?”

He shook his head. His smoldering gaze bore into hers, sending tiny warning signals to her melting brain cells.
Make him leave, before it’s too late.

Then he took her hands in his and raised them palms upward. “Come on, I’ll help you pick the glass out of your hands and anywhere else you may have gotten splinters.”

The low voice and tender look was her undoing.

He led, and she followed like a lamb to the slaughter. She hadn’t been able to resist him in the past—what made her think she could now?

All thoughts of Eric receded into the back of her mind, and all she could think of or feel was Ben. He led her to her little bedroom and sat her on the edge of the bed.

“Where do you keep your first aid kit?”

Too overwhelmed by images of what she and Ben could do beneath the sheets, and keyed up from her near-death experience, she had to remind herself to breathe. “In the medicine cabinet behind the mirror.”

He ducked into the bathroom.

She could have jumped up from her questionable perch on the mattress and strolled back into the living room—putting distance between her and the bed. But she didn’t. She waited for him to return, and he came back with the first aid kit, cotton balls, and a wet washcloth in hand.

He paused for a moment and gazed at her as if he’d never seen her before. Seven years earlier he’d seen every inch of her, including a few nooks and crannies she’d blushed about.

“What?” She reached up to brush her hair from her face and winced when a shard of glass pressed deeper into her flesh.

He shook his head and hurried forward, laying the items he’d collected on the nightstand. “Nothing. Let me see those hands.” He pulled a pair of tweezers from his pocket and sat next to her on the bed. “Let’s get those bad boys out of there before your hands get infected.”

She sat in numb silence, inhaling the scent that was so very Ben. “You still wear the same cologne.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Did I say that out loud?”

He chuckled. “Yes, you did, and yes, I do. A gorgeous young woman gave it to me a long time ago and I haven’t found anything I like better.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he talking about fragrances, or did he mean he hadn’t found another love as great as hers in all these years? “That’s a long time stuck with the same-ole-same-ole.”

“Some things are good enough to keep for life.” He removed one shard of glass at a time until all the little pieces were fished out of her palms. Then he looked up. “Any other places?”

She gulped and gazed longingly into his eyes. She started to shake her head, but she nodded instead, and held out her leg. Her short red dress crept up her thigh, exposing a considerable amount of skin.

A sharp intake of breath indicated that he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended. As his gaze swept the length of her leg from hip to toe, he dropped to one knee. “This—” His voice broke. He cleared his throat and started again. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

“Promises, promises,” she muttered. Getting over him had hurt more than anything. Was she up to getting over him a second time?

His hand circled her ankle and slid up the back of her calf.

No, definitely not
. Based on the explosion of her senses at his slightest touch, she wasn’t up to washing Ben from her mind. She was a mere mortal, not prone to acts of selflessness, or able to hold up under the pressure of masochistic torture.

When his fingers connected with the sensitive zone at the back of her knee, she moaned.

He darted a worried frown up at her. “Hurt that bad?”

“Oh, yes.” He had no idea what he was doing to her or the repercussions that would reverberate through her life afterward.
She
did, yet she still did nothing to stop him. Oh, no, our little swamp girl didn’t even try.

His frown deepened. “I’ll kill the bastard.” With the tips of the tweezers, he eased the slivers of glass from her knees, one at time. His gentle touch, combined with the little prickle of pain, fired her nerves to a screaming pitch.

“That’s all of them.” He pressed a cotton ball to the mouth of the bottle of rubbing alcohol and tipped it upside down. “This may sting a little.”