Cajun Magic 02 - Voodoo for Two (21 page)

With barely enough time to take a deep breath, the fetid smell of the murky swamp water, now rising to her neck, pressed against her senses. Eric would die if she didn’t get him out. She tipped his head back to keep his nose from submerging.

She pushed away from him, sucked in air, and dived for the door handle. Her hand smoothed across the door until her fingers closed around the little lever. She tugged. It was locked. She tugged again and the locking mechanism released, but the door wouldn’t open. She tried to pound her fist against the window, but her hand bounced back like dandelion fluff in the wind. She surfaced inside the car and gulped in precious air. Then she dived down again, braced her feet on the console, her shoulder against the door, and shoved.
Move, damn it!

…

When the Taurus hit the back of the BMW, Ben was fifty yards away. His heart stopped for a split second before it raced to fill his veins with adrenaline.

The bastard was trying to kill Eric and Lucie! Ben raced forward, ready to rip Leather Man apart.

When he reached the Taurus, the white reverse lights lit the night. He didn’t have enough time to move out of the way. The car backed right into him. He flung himself over the top of the trunk, crashing against the back windshield. He hit with enough force that the windshield cracked into a million pieces, the safety glass the only reason he didn’t fly through into the backseat.

When the car slammed to a stop, he slid off the trunk onto the gravel, rolling to the side, out of the tires’ reach.

Before he could catch his wind, the Taurus skidded out of the parking area and disappeared into the night.

Head spinning, he lurched to his feet. Pain shot through his shoulder, and his lungs hurt when he breathed. But he didn’t care. Lucie and Eric were in the BMW and he couldn’t see it anymore. With a hand pressed to his side, he limped to the edge of the bayou.

The rear end of the BMW was barely above the surface. Steam and bubbles percolated from where the engine had submerged. No sign of Eric or Lucie.

His breath hitched.
Oh God. Please let Lucie be all right.
He kicked off his shoes and plunged into the swamp. He had to get them out before they drowned. He no longer cared if Lucie married him or Eric. He just wanted her alive.

His hands skimmed the passenger side of the car until he reached the door. The water was five feet deep at this point. He tugged on the door handle. The heavy metal door didn’t budge. The force of the water on the outside of the car wasn’t equalized with the interior. Which meant the inside wasn’t completely full yet. Until the pressure equalized, the door would be impossible to budge. But he couldn’t wait—they could be drowning.

With his foot braced on the back door, he grabbed the front door handle and pulled as hard as he could. The door opened enough to let a flood of water race in.

“Help!” Lucie’s voice cried out once, right before the water filled the rest of the interior.

He wrestled the door open, reached in, and grasped her slim hand flailing in the water. He pulled until she surfaced, sputtering and coughing. She clung to him, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“You can stand in the water here,” he said into her ear.

“Omigod. Eric!” She dropped her feet to the bottom and pushed off Ben and moved to dive back into the car.

“No.” He caught her before her head disappeared beneath the murky water. “You get to the shore. I’ll get Eric.”

“But—“ She tugged against him, her gaze sweeping the water’s surface.

“Just do it! You’re wasting time and we don’t know if there are alligators out here.”

She darted a quick look around. “Okay, but he’s unconscious. Hurry!”

“I’ll get him. Now go.” He didn’t wait to see if she followed his orders. He dragged in a deep breath and slipped beneath the surface, feeling his way across the passenger seat to the driver.

Eric was slumped over the steering wheel, held in place by his seat belt.

Ben worked at the belt’s clasp until he realized he was wasting his time. With one hand holding the steering wheel, he dug in his own pocket, his lungs burning with the effort to stay submerged. He realized he couldn’t stay down a moment longer, and he backed out of the vehicle, surfacing to catch his breath. While he inhaled another breath, he dug in his pocket again until he found his pocketknife. Thank God. No Cajun worth his salt would be without one.

Back in the swirling, murky water, he pulled himself over to Eric, sliced through the constricting belt, and freed Eric’s arms. The unconscious man floated toward the ceiling.

With a hand full of Eric’s shirt, he pushed backward toward the passenger door, dragging his friend with him. He surfaced, immediately bringing Eric’s head above the water.

But Eric wasn’t breathing. His lungs had to be full of water given the amount of time he’d been under.

Ben dragged him to the shore and pulled his body out of the swamp enough to work on him. He flipped him onto his stomach and straddled his hips. With both hands, he pushed against Eric’s ribs, forcing the water up and out of his lungs.

He leaned into Eric’s back. “Come on, buddy! Out with the old, in with the new. Breathe!”

…

Heart in her stomach, Lucie dropped to her knees next to the still man. “Spit it out, Eric!”

Ben pushed again.

This time, water erupted from Eric’s mouth and he coughed.

“Eric, oh my God, Eric!” She pushed the hair off Eric’s forehead. “He’s breathing!” She smiled up at Ben in the moonlight.

But Ben’s face was an unreadable mask in his own shadow. “Help me turn him over, will ya?”

Together they rolled Eric onto his back. “Lucie?” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Ben got to his feet. “I’m going for my cell phone.” He paused for a moment. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” Eric coughed and gave a weak excuse for a smile. “Really. And thanks.”

Ben turned and loped to his car.

Eric’s eyes drifted shut, and he lay still.

Heart still thundering, she leaned close to listen for the steady rhythm of air moving in and out of his lungs.

“Lucie?”

She jumped. “I’m here, Eric.”

“Scared for”—he coughed—”you.”

She laughed and lifted his hand to her face. “I’m the Voodoo queen’s granddaughter, what could possibly happen to me?”

He smiled and curled his hand around her cheek. “Did I ask you?”

“Ask me what?” she asked, before she could think.
Oh yeah
. Her heart leaped from her belly to her throat.
Don’t do it, Eric
, she cried inside.

“Will you marry me?” He gripped her hand.

As she stared down at him, wondering what she could say, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Ben stood behind her. He had to have heard Eric’s question.

Eric’s hand slipped back into hers. “I love you, Lucie.”

With the word “no” poised on her lips, she felt weak pressure on her fingers.

“Don’t say no,” he whispered. “Please.”

How could she say no? The man could be dying, for all she knew. She inhaled air to the bottom of her lungs, squeezed her eyes shut, and answered, “Yes, Eric.”

Behind her, she heard a sharp intake of breath. Though Lucie’s heart cried out for him to protest, Ben didn’t say a thing. He didn’t plead with her to change her mind. No protestations of love or offers to sweep her off her feet.

What did she expect? He’d offered for her once. A man wasn’t likely to risk getting burned twice by the same fire.

For a girl who’d finally gotten exactly what she’d wanted, why was she so miserable?

What a mess
.

And Eric wouldn’t have asked her in the first place if it hadn’t been for her magical spell and one tiny bug. She was a complete fraud, a louse, a low-life Voodoo queen wannabe without compassion and love for anyone but herself. She’d never be truly loved by anyone.

In the meantime, she sat with Eric’s head in her lap, afraid to face the only man she’d ever really loved for fear of witnessing his disappointment—or worse, his contempt.

Fifteen minutes seemed like forever, waiting for the emergency medical service to arrive.

With a smile curving his lips, Eric drifted in and out of consciousness.

She wished she could drift out with him. With Ben’s car the only other available transportation not under five feet of water, she was glad when Eric surfaced long enough to ask, “Will you ride with me in the ambulance?”

When the EMS arrived, she climbed in beside Eric and played the dutiful fiancée all the way to the hospital.

The press must have been listening to their scanners, because when the ambulance arrived at the small hospital in Morgan City, they were mobbed.

Thanks to the state police who’d followed along as an escort, they made it inside with minimal delay. She found herself scanning the crowds for Ben. He’d said he’d follow them. Had he changed his mind?

Eric’s father met them at the ER entrance and followed them inside, demanding a private room and any specialist money could buy to ensure Eric’s survival.

Once Eric was diagnosed with a small concussion, bruised ribs, and fluid on the lungs, they settled him into a room and loaded him with antibiotics and painkillers.

Finally, able to get close enough to speak to Eric again, Lucie leaned over him and said, “If you don’t need me anymore, I’m going home.”

Eric grasped her hand. “Did you have the doctors look you over?”

“Yeah, no harm done, other than a broken nail.”

“Dad?” Eric leaned back, his eyelids drifting closed over drug-glazed eyes.

Jason Littington moved to the head of the other side of the bed. “Yes, son.”

“Lucie and I are engaged. Be nice to her, will you?”

The elder Littington stared across his son at her. Instead of contempt or snobbery, he gave her a gentle smile. “Welcome to the Littington family, my dear. I’m sure I’ll love you like the daughter I never had.”

She would rather have had his contempt. With Jason Littington being so cordial when his son’s fiancée had tricked him into falling in love with her, she felt lower than a scum-sucking snail.

She wanted to crawl beneath the rock she’d slithered out from under. Her chest tightened, her heartbeat fluttered like a skittish cat, teasing her system into thinking it was delivering life-giving blood to her body. But her pulse was so shallow it made her light-headed. She had to get outside. Now!

Eric was out cold; he wouldn’t miss her.

After some lame-ass excuse to his father, she practically ran out of the hospital room.

She stopped at the nurse’s station and asked for a pen and a sheet of paper. She scribbled a note and handed it to the nurse, knowing it was cowardly, but it had to be done. “Could you please give this to Jason Littington before he leaves?”

Without waiting for a response, Lucie hurried out of the hospital. She stood on the concrete sidewalk and inhaled deep breaths of thick, humid Louisiana air, trying to tamp down the rising panic. When she’d regained a tentative level of calm, her brain engaged and she realized she didn’t have a ride home.

She was about to turn and reenter the hospital to find a telephone, when a silver Audi slid to a stop in front of her.

Her stomach knotted and all her hard-won calm skittered down the sewer drain. She’d rather face an entire firing squad of reporters armed with cameras than the one man with the ability to break her heart.

Ben
.

Chapter Twenty-One

Why he couldn’t leave well enough alone, Ben hadn’t a clue. He tried to rationalize that Lucie would need a ride home after the ambulance had delivered Eric to the hospital.

Deep inside, he knew he wanted to ask her, “Why?” Why had she pushed him away all those years ago; why did she say yes to Eric and not to him?

She stood looking at the car, her face strained as if she were afraid of him.

“Get in,” he said, a little more brusquely than he’d intended.

When Lucie climbed into his car, he fought to keep from pulling her into his arms and shaking her to within an inch of her life. How could she marry Eric? Didn’t she know she was supposed to love
him
?

Oh, yeah. She’d told him he wasn’t good enough for her.

“If we’re going home, it helps to put the shift in drive,” she murmured.

Heat filled his cheeks. He’d been so buried in his misery he hadn’t realized the car was still idling in the hospital parking lot. He jammed the shift in drive and floored the accelerator.

Lucie gasped, a hand fluttering over her heart.

He shot a glance her way and immediately let off the gas. Her face had drained of color.

“Sorry.”
What was wrong with him?
Hadn’t she been through enough without him scaring her by driving like a sulky teen?

Her laugh was more a breathy sob. “No. I’m a bit jumpy.”

Damn! He should have known she was fragile. Hell, she’d almost drowned! His blood ran cold.
Lucie had almost drowned in that car
.

His lips pulling into a tight line, he concentrated on the road back to Bayou Miste, keeping his speed to five miles an hour under the posted limit. Hunkered in her corner of the front seat, she stared out the window into the inky black night. The moon had disappeared behind clouds.

They drove in silence until he pulled into her driveway. He expected her to leap out and race up to her apartment.

Instead, she sat staring up the stairs, a shimmer of tears reflecting light from the brand-new bulb glowing over her door.

The man who loved Lucie more than life itself screamed inside him, urging him to action.
Say something! Tell her you still love her. Tell her you don’t want her to marry Eric. Do something!

Then the logical man who’d regulated his life for the past seven years overruled him.

Lucie had made her choice. She would marry Eric. He would go back to Baton Rouge and that would be the end of any stupid dreams he may have conjured while at home in the swamps.

Why the hell wasn’t she getting out of the car?

Finally, she fumbled for the door handle. After her second attempt, he sighed and stepped out. By the time he got around to open her door, she had pushed it wide and stood up.

When he grabbed her elbow, he felt the tremors. She was shaking so hard her teeth rattled as she collapsed against him.

Ah jeez!
She was going into shock. He should have recognized it when she wasn’t talking. Lucie always had something to say.

He scooped his arm under her legs and lifted her as easily as if she were a child. But her luscious curves were anything but childlike. As the side of her breast rested against his chest, he sucked in air.

A sob escaped her lips and she pressed her face into his damp shirt, wrapping her arms around his neck. He had to put her down quickly—before he couldn’t let her go at all. He strode to the steps and took them like he was in a race for his life. He was in a battle to retain his sanity. With Lucie clutched against his body, his gray matter scrambled. He couldn’t think beyond the next step until he reached her door.

A giggle erupted from her, ending in a sob. “I don’t have my key.”

“Where is it?”

“In the swamp?” She sniffed and stared up at him.

“Think you can stand?”

She nodded. He dropped her legs, still holding her around her middle.

When her knees buckled, he held tight to keep her from falling. “Yeah, sure you can stand.” One hand holding her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his trusty pocketknife. He unfolded the blade and jammed it between the door and the frame, jimmying the door handle with the knife until the door swung open.

“I can take it from here,” she said, not even frowning at his handiwork.

Beneath his hands, he could still feel her tremors. She needed someone, and the only person immediately available was Ben Boyette.

Sucker
. How could he maintain control when she was so soft and sweet? How could he respect her choice and his friend’s trust, when she clung to him as though he was her lifeline?

As soon as he pulled her into his embrace, lifted her off her feet, and moved across the threshold, all his control crumbled.

“Don’t leave me, Ben.” she leaned her face into his chest.

He inhaled and blew his breath out slowly, fighting the rising surge of desire flooding his veins. “I can’t stay.”

“Please.”

“What about Eric?” he ground out.

Her fingers clenched against his chest. “I was going to say no.”

“But you didn’t.” And she’d broken his heart as he stood watching her promise herself to another man.

“I couldn’t.” Her head hung low. “He was hurt.”

“You chose
him
, Lucie.”

“I want
you
.” Her voice was the barest whisper he had to lean closer to hear.

“But I’m not good enough, am I?” The old hurts bubbled up and he stepped away.

She swayed, her brows furrowing. “This has nothing to do with what happened seven years ago.”

“It has everything to do with what happened.”

“Tell me.” She dragged in a deep breath. “Would you have gone to the academy if I hadn’t made you leave?”

“Hell no, I wouldn’t!”

“Exactly. It was your dream, Ben. Ever since we were kids playing in the bayous.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t take away your dream.”

He blinked, her words taking a long moment to sink in.

“I don’t believe this.” He turned his back on her, his gut clenching at her revelation. “You’re lying. You told me you’d always wanted to marry up. Had you married me, we’d have been poor. You couldn’t stand that, could you?” He spun toward her, wanting to hurt her as she’d hurt him all those years ago. “
Could you?
”

All the color drained from her face and her shoulders sagged. “What’s the use, Ben? You don’t want the truth. So why are we discussing history? Just go away.”

“Yeah, I should.” He pushed his hand through his hair, but he didn’t make a move for the door. He strode toward her until they stood nose to nose. “I should, but I can’t.”

She gazed up at him, her eyes widening.

When her bottom lip trembled, he lost control and crushed his lips to hers. He plundered her mouth, his tongue pushing past her teeth. The warmth of her beneath his hands fired his soul, a soul he’d long thought dead.

Lucie belonged to him!

And her response matched his, passion for passion.

When he finally broke the endless kiss, he grabbed her arms and shoved her back. Her eyelids drooped, her lips were swollen with his kiss.

“Does he make you feel like this? Does he make you come alive in his arms?”

“No.”

Triumph swelled briefly in his chest.

Everything he felt was so right and so wrong at the same time, his gut tightened into a knot. Lucie was the woman he loved, yet she’d promised to marry his friend. How could he betray his friend by kissing his fiancée? What had started as a means to comfort her after her frightening experience had snowballed into something he wasn’t sure he could stop.

Just then, her hand slipped up the front of his chest to rest against his heart. “I know it’s wrong, but I don’t want to be alone tonight.” Her hand circled his neck and she pulled his lips back to hers. She kissed him, claiming his mouth, his heart, and his soul. With one hand entwined in his hair, her other hand slid beneath his shirt, lacing through the hairs on his torso.

She shivered, and he realized they both still had on the wet clothing they’d worn in the swamp. He broke off the kiss and stepped back.

Her hair hanging limp around her shoulders, her shirt clinging to her body in damp places, she very much resembled a drowned rat. But her eyes shone bright, and she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.

Once again, he lifted her from her feet and carried her, through the tiny bedroom to the attached bathroom. When he set her down to lean in and turn the shower water to hot, she clung to him.

“I’m going to regret this later.” He tipped her face up to his. “But I can’t stop myself now.” With a frustrated sigh, he tugged her shirt up over her head, tossing it to the linoleum floor. His hands on her waistband, he slowly unzipped her slacks, then slid them—well, maybe yanked—until they dropped to the floor in a sodden heap. In nothing but a lacy black bra and bright-red string bikini panties, her hair hanging like dreadlocks around her face, Lucie was stunning. Her deep olive complexion complemented the midnight black of her hair and her root-beer-colored eyes.

Then a shiver shook her from shoulders to hips. Goose bumps stood out on her arms, while steam filled the small bathroom. “Have you ever gone swimming fully clothed in the swamp at night before tonight, Ben Boyette?” She trembled again and crossed her arms over her breasts. “I don’t recommend it. Especially if you’re trapped in a sinking car.” She laughed, her voice shaky, uncertain.

He pulled her to him, bent, and caught her beneath her thighs, wrapping her legs around his fully clothed waist. Then he pushed the shower curtain aside and stepped beneath the spray, clothes and all.

“But you’ll get your clothes wet!”

“Hey, I was swimming in that swamp, too. Besides, I don’t care.” Her breasts bobbed beneath his nose and he gave in to temptation, smoothing his cheeks between the tawny mounds pushed high by her bra.

She threaded her fingers into his hair and pressed his face against her skin.

Blood rushed from his limbs to his groin in a mad race. He stiffened against the tight confines of denim, groaning at the sweet pain.

“Not fair.” She pressed a kiss to his temple. When he bit through the lacy material of her bra, she arched her back and moaned. Apparently frustrated by his slow progress, she reached behind her and unsnapped the hooks, her straps sliding down over her shoulders, the cups falling forward.

He nuzzled the black lace aside and sucked in a full, round areola, tonguing, laving, and suckling until it beaded into a hardened tip. He gave equal attention to the other until she squirmed against the hard ridge of his cock.

Water ran down her back and over his shirt and jeans, quickly making him hot and sticky, and entirely overdressed for the shower.

He set her on her feet and pulled his black t-shirt over his head, flinging it behind him. It landed with a splat on the side of the tub.

Before he could work on the rest, she ran her hands from his shoulders downward through the thick hairs on his chest. Her lips followed her hands, teasing and tasting both of his hard brown nipples.

He couldn’t strip out of his jeans fast enough. Tangled in the soggy mess, he hopped on one foot and almost fell on the slippery surface of the porcelain tub.

While he maneuvered out of his jeans, she slid her red panties over her hips and kicked them off.

When they finally stood naked in the spray of the shower nozzle, they came together like ravenous creatures, too long starved of each other’s bodies.

He reveled in the silky smoothness of her skin rubbing against his. He soaped his hands and ran them over her full, jutting breasts, tempting the nipples to matching peaks. She leaned back to allow water to run over her shoulders and down through the suds. Narrow streams dripped off the tips of her breasts and slid down the corridor of her cleavage to disappear into the curly mound of dark, springy hair.

His hands following the trail of soap, he cupped the juncture of her thighs, opening her nether lips like a flower to pluck at the petal within. She arched against him and moaned. Her fingers trailed down his arm to the hand tempting her to the edge. She pressed him deeper. One, then two fingers slid inside her and back out to trace her creamy essence over her most sensitive spot.

With his hardened cock pressed to her hip, he inhaled the soapy, fresh scent of her, and swooped in to claim her lips.

The more he stroked, the more tense she became until she grabbed his hand.

“Stop!” She gasped, her shoulders stiff, her eyes squeezed shut. Then she pressed his hand over her mons and rocked against him. “Oh, God, Ben.” Her cream wept onto his fingers. “I need you. Now!”

Her hands circled his neck and she climbed up him to wrap her legs around his waist. He steadied her to keep her from sliding off, their bodies slick with soap and water. Then he lowered her, sheathing his shaft completely in the warm, pulsing center of her.
God, she felt good
.

With her legs locked behind him, he turned her to press her back against the cool tiles. Then in a primitive, natural rhythm, he slid in and out of her. The rising tension that had been building all along burst in a fiery explosion of sensations. He sank into her and held steady as wave upon wave of mind-blowing orgasm consumed him, sucking the very soul from his heart and breath from his lungs, shooting him into clouds of pleasure he’d only dreamed of.

When he fell back to earth, he leaned his body against her, crushing her between him and the shower walls. “I swear I just had a near-death experience.” He groaned and nuzzled her neck.

She lay against him, her head drooping on his shoulder. “If that’s what death feels like, I should have died a long time ago.”

…

Lucie slipped from Ben’s arms early the next morning. After a short, dream-filled night plagued with ghosts of ancient Voodoo queens, she gave up any pretense of sleep. Awakening before Ben had its advantages. She could fill her heart and memory with the sight of him resting peacefully in her bed. Lying on his side, his broad shoulder loomed over her, beckoning her to smooth her hand over the muscled planes.