Lucky (16 page)

Three and one half weeks after the incident, Nick was ready for a release of his own. Today he would be dismissed from the hospital, and he could hardly wait. He had lived with worry and anger for so long that it had eaten into his days and interrupted all his nights.

When Lucky was not at his side, he could not rest until he saw her face. Constant fear that the incident would be repeated and he would not be there to stop it, drove him crazy. He’d hired bodyguards, and pulled promises from her, as well as everyone around him, until they were all afraid to move without taking her with them and telling him first.

He had little memory of his first days in the hospital,
and from what he had learned, it was just as well. Remembering one’s death and subsequent retrieval from heaven…or hell…wherever he’d been headed, was disconcerting to say the least.

All he could remember was the sound of Lucky’s voice, and the touch of her hands, and the feel of her tears upon his face. Even now, when she was merely across the room, he had an overwhelming urge to call her back into his arms. Because the last thing he’d seen before his world went black was the gun aimed directly at her, and the shock upon her face.

He’d known then that if she’d died…if he’d been too late…he would not have wanted to go on. It scared him to death that she meant that much to him, and that he had no other claim upon her.

It was also proof of his full recovery that one constant ache he’d had before had never gone away. Nick now lived for the day when he would put his ring upon her finger and himself inside her. And not necessarily in that order.

Lucky was a shadow of her former self. Endless days and sleepless nights had taken more weight off her body than she’d had to spare. Her blue jeans hung from her hips, and the pink sweater she was wearing was loose and baggy in places it was not meant to be.

The wide green eyes that saw into Nick’s soul on a daily basis were hollow and bore circles beneath them shades darker than her skin. Her hair hung loose down her back, and as she walked, it swung against her shoulders like a widow’s veil. And Nick had never thought her more beau
tiful, or loved her more than he did on the day of his release. Even if the declaration of love that he longed to hear from her had yet to be said.

“Do you have everything?” Lucky asked, as she darted around the hospital room, poking in drawers, looking in cabinets. “We’re about ready to leave.”

“If I have you, I’m ready, baby. You’re all that I need. You’re all that I’ll ever need.”

Lucky stopped and turned. Once again, she looked at him as if she’d never get enough of the sight. He was paler than he had been, and a little thinner. But the fire was back in his eyes, and the passion in his voice. It was more than she’d ever thought to regain, and enough to last her the rest of her life.

“Oh, Nick,” she whispered, and pressed her hands together to keep them from shaking. “You will never know how much you mean to me.” She hesitated, but only for a moment, having learned the hard way that waiting might sometimes be the wrong thing to do. She’d waited once, and nearly lost the man she loved before she could tell him so. It was time to tell him the truth. Her eyes locked with his and her mouth barely trembled as she finally said what was in her heart. “I love you.”

Shock suffused his body. He felt as if he had waited a lifetime to hear her say those words, and then they’d come when he could do nothing but hold her.

“Come here,” he said, and held out his arms. Moments later she’d buried her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. He felt, rather than heard, her tears. “I love you too,” he whispered, then his gut twisted. “Ah God, baby, don’t cry…not again.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “But I nearly lost you. I’m afraid that when we leave here, something like this will happen again. If it does, next time we might not be so lucky.”

Nick sighed and wrapped his hands in the length of her hair, wishing they were somewhere else…anywhere else but this damnable hospital room. No lock on the door. Nowhere to hide from the constant surge of busy nurses who lived out their lives on this floor and countless others like it.

“There will be no next time,” Nick vowed. “And as long as I have my Lucky Lady in my arms, I don’t need to worry.”

She sighed. “How can you say that? I’ve brought you nothing but bad luck, Nick. Besides, don’t you know that Lady Luck is fickle?”

Nick laughed and swooped down to catch her pouting lips, turning the moment from despair to desire with one kiss. “Damn you, woman.” He groaned and flattened the palms of his hands across her hips, grinding himself into her with hopeless frustration.

“Maybe you need to stay in the hospital another day or two,” Lucky said with a wink. “I think I feel something swollen. Maybe you’re not all well.”

“You’ve been around Fluffy LaMont too long,” Nick growled, and then grinned when she swung out of his arms to finish his packing.

“She’s been a godsend to me, Nick,” Lucky said, as she zipped his suitcase shut.

“I know, baby. I was just teasing you. She’s one in a million. By the way, what color is her hair this week?”

Lucky made a face at him, and then could not prevent an answering grin when she replied, “Buxom Brunette, I think. And don’t laugh. At least now it’s all one color. She goes out and has it done in a salon. When I first moved in, she was doing it herself.”

“Hey, Nicky, we’re ready to roll. Let’s blow this pop-up stand,” Cubby said, as he burst into the room without knocking.

“I think the phrase is Popsicle stand, buddy. But it doesn’t matter. Hell yes, I’m ready. Lead the way.”

“You have to ride down in a wheelchair, Nick,” Lucky warned.

“Honey, I’d ride a damned camel if it took me out of here.”

Moments later a nurse wheeled in a chair and they all left with light hearts and rapid steps.

Downtown, Detective Will Arnold was scratching his head as he read the report on Metro’s latest John Doe identification. Fingerprints had been impossible to obtain from a body with no hands. And the damage done to John Doe’s face was even worse. But the broken jaw that had been wired shut was the clue that triggered the ID.

Whatever Steve Lucas had been doing, it had pissed someone off big time. In the old days, cutting off a hand had been the underworld’s way of dealing with a thief. But to his knowledge, Lucas wasn’t a thief. Only an asshole. Why both hands had been removed was beyond him. What mattered most to Will Arnold was that people connected with Nick Chenault kept coming up dead. And al
ways after a murder attempt. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that Chenault was into a little payback of his own.

His eyes narrowed as he considered the ramifications of that thought. If his sources were right, Nick Chenault would be released from the hospital either today or tomorrow. It made the detective wonder if there was a connection between Lucas and the men who’d tried to kill Lucky Houston. In a way it made a wicked sort of sense, from a criminal’s point of view.

Steve Lucas had gone to jail for an attack on Lucky Houston, and Lucky Houston was now, for all intents and purposes, Chenault’s girl. Maybe the hit on Miss Houston wasn’t connected to the threats to Nick Chenault. But the more he thought about it, the more he knew he was right. It was too coincidental to ignore. The clues were right in front of him. It was the connections that were still too vague to make.

“One thing at a time, Arnold. One thing at a time,” he told himself.

The only one who was still alive to tell his story was Charlie Sams. Maybe another talk with him could net some useful information. Will Arnold whistled softly through his teeth as he continued to read the coroner’s report on Steve Lucas. No wonder Charlie Sams had refused bail. Jail was probably the safest place he could be.

“I hate this,” Nick growled, as the limousine turned into the Chenault estate.

He didn’t have to look to know that the car following them, as well as the one in front of the car they were in,
was there. He’d hired both of them himself. But it was the first time he’d gotten a dose of living behind armed guards. He didn’t think he was going to like it one damned bit.

“I know,” Lucky said. “Your father said I would get used to it.” She tried to smile and didn’t make it. “I’ve failed miserably. I keep forgetting that they are there. And then when I do realize someone’s behind me, just for a moment I think it’s the same people who…” Her chin quivered and she looked away, unable to finish the sentence.

Nick pulled her into his arms, cushioning her next to his chest as they came to a stop.

“It will be all right, honey. We’ve survived this far. Nothing can stop us now.”

“Welcome home, Nicky! Welcome home.” Paul Chenault sat in the doorway with a smile on his face that could have lit up the world.

“I’d rather be necking with you,” Nick whispered in her ear, putting a blush on her cheeks that was still there after they’d entered the house and closed the door.

As Lucky had feared, Nick had overdone it. His endurance was not up to full strength, and his insistence upon sitting through dinner had finished him off. She’d seen him turn pale, watched nervously as he hid shaky hands in his lap, and knew it was time for someone with some brains to take control.

“I made chocolate mousse for dessert, sir,” Shari said, waiting for a smile to appear on her boss’s face. It was his favorite dessert.

“He’s not having any,” Lucky said, and laid her napkin
by her plate as she got to her feet. “He’s going to bed, whether he likes it or not.”

“Oh, hell,” Nick muttered. “How long has she been like this?”

Paul grinned. “Since the day she put her shoes under your bed.”

Lucky flushed, but would not be swayed. It hadn’t taken her long to learn during the past three weeks that living in an all-male household was a far cry from the one she’d grown up in. She’d also learned to give as good as she got.

“My shoes are not under his bed, and you know it,” Lucky muttered. “Please, Nick. Don’t argue. You’re exhausted. The last thing you need is a setback.”

He leaned forward in his chair, forced to admit the wisdom of her words. “She’s right, Dad. I think I’d better call it a night.”

Lucky sighed with relief. At least he wasn’t going to argue. He rose and then paused in the doorway to look over his shoulder at Lucky.

“Well…aren’t you coming to make sure that I brush my teeth and wash behind my ears?”

Paul laughed aloud. “Here’s where I make my own exit,” he added. “Cubby, get me out of here before the dishes start flying.” Moments later, the room was empty except for Nick and Lucky.

“Well, are you coming?” he asked.

She came toward him from across the room, her white palazzo pants and sleeveless blouse moving gently with the sway of her body as she walked. Tendrils of her hair had escaped their pins and hung seductively down the back of her neck. He could see bare toes peeking out from
the gold straps of her open-toe sandals. It made him want her. But in the last few weeks he’d learned a hard lesson. He could not always have what he wanted.

She stopped at his side and looked up. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. Her hands trembled as she slid them up the length of his arms to touch the back of his neck.

“Brush and wash what you will, my love. But when you sleep, I will hold you. It’s the only way I can be sure you’re all right.”

Tears sprang unbidden to Nick’s eyes, blinding him to the love upon her face. But he didn’t need to see it to know that it was there. The evidence of her love was in every nuance of her voice and every look that she bestowed upon him. It was the first time that he’d considered how deeply Lucky had suffered through his ordeal as well.

“Ah, God, lady, you take my breath away,” Nick whispered, and brushed his lips against hers before they turned toward the stairs.

“When you are well, we will talk.”

“About what?” he teased, knowing full well what she was referring to.

“Things,” she said, and pointed toward the stairs.

Nick rolled his eyes and tried not to groan. She was the damnedest woman he had ever had the fortune to love.

A short time later Nick walked out of his bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, his hair still damp and glistening from the shower that he’d taken. Almost simultaneously, Lucky walked into his room without knocking and closed the door behind her.

She stood silently within the confines of the room, a waif of a woman in a gown and robe that reminded him of translucent butter. The pale yellow fabric hid little. Vague but enticing images of her long, slender limbs and shapely hips, taut breasts, and the shadowy vee between her legs made him shake. But it was not from weakness; it was from want.

“Come here,” he said. When her dressing gown parted, revealing even more of the woman beneath as she followed his command, his breath caught at the back of his throat.

Lucky walked into his arms and felt the wild hammering of his heart as it pounded beneath his chest. As badly as she wanted this to go further, she remembered all too well where he’d been only hours earlier.

With a reluctant sigh, she centered a kiss on his chest and then feathered her palms across his back, gazing with new horror at the pink, scarring tissue healing around the wound below his shoulder.

“Will you take me to bed, Nick Chenault? I want you to hold me and make promises you don’t have to keep.”

“My Lucky, lucky charm, you should know by now that I keep every promise that I make.”

She sighed and tried to smile, but her own weariness was almost overwhelming her.

Nick shuddered at the thought of lying next to her and not being able to take their relationship that last step. And while he’d regained most of his strength simply by solitude and the relaxing warmth of the shower, Lucky looked ready to drop.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said, and dug his
hands through the thick ropes of hair she’d piled loosely upon her head. Seconds later, pins went flying as her hair fell down her back and covered his hands and arms like a sensuous veil. “God, Lucky,” he whispered, and combed his fingers through it in fascination. “I love your hair. It feels like silk against my skin.”