Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (37 page)

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I saw that I had missed your call. I had sort of a working lunch with the other docents and our supervisor. A meeting about the new exhibits that are coming to the museum over the next several months. It ended up running two hours long,” she says apologetically. I look over at her and she’s eyeing me speculatively, and I get the feeling that she’s just as anxious as I am right now. “How was your day?” she asks softly.

“My day was frustrating,” I tell her honestly. “Forensics found no prints on your little box of horrors. Not even on the note. They are still trying to trace the stuffed toy and the ribbon it was tied with though but, I’m not holding my breath.”

Sam looks crestfallen at this news and she turns away, fixing her troubled gaze on the passing scenery outside the window. I reach over and take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips, and lightly kiss her knuckles. And when I glance over at her this time, I see her wipe a few tears from her pretty cheeks. We’re silent the rest of the ride to her apartment, and as I do my walk-through of her place I can’t help but worry about her. I hate it that I have to leave her here alone for two more hours before my shift ends.

I finish checking out her place and find Sam in the kitchen, pouring herself a small glass of wine. She takes a sip and I can see the stress written all over her.

“What did you eat for lunch during your meeting, Sam?”

“What?”

I hesitate a beat and my gaze drops from her eyes to the glass in her hands. “You didn’t eat your breakfast this morning,” I say quietly. “You really shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach so … I’m just wondering if you’ve eaten anything today.”

She stares blankly at me, batting her big green eyes. “After everything that’s happened today, I’m not allowed to take a drink?” she asks, looking at me in disbelief, and I frown at her.

“No. Of course you’re allowed to take a drink, baby. I just want you to be careful. I’m worried about you, Sam,” I tell her softly as I step toward her, taking the glass from her hand and setting it on the counter behind her. Then I gently pull her into my arms and hold her close. Her arms circle around me and she starts to cry softly, prompting me to tighten my hold on her, and I lightly kiss the top of her head. I’m not really sure how long we stand this way, but I hold her for several minutes while she cries into my chest. “It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise you … it’s all going to be okay.”

I pull away and wipe the dampness from her cheeks, and then glance down at my watch. I know that I have to get going, but I can’t leave her like this. “Sam…”

“I’m okay,” she says softly, looking up at me. “I know you have to go. I’ll be fine.”

“You know, baby, it might be a good idea to call Martin. I know you don’t want him lurking around the apartment but, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to stand watch outside your door.”

“No! I don’t want that!”

“Samantha … ”

“No, Josh,” she says loudly, and the tears spring forth once more. “Please. I don’t want to feel like a prisoner in my own home. Please!”

“Fine,” I sigh disgustedly, raising my hands in surrender and then running both of them through my hair in frustration. So much for getting her to step up the security for herself. I take a deep breath and lean down to lightly kiss her forehead. Then I reach out and caress her face, wiping her tears away in the process. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Lock the door behind me.”

*****

Two hours later, I climb out of my truck and swing the strap of my gym bag over my shoulder. Then I take the small pastry box from the passenger seat and head inside Samantha’s building. As I stand waiting for the elevator my mind replays the events of the day and I feel tired. I can only imagine how Sam must feel right about now. I haven’t spoken to her since I dropped her off after work and I have no idea what to expect. When I left she was still in tears, and it just about killed me to leave her that way. I take a deep breath as I stand outside her door and ring the bell. And when it opens, I involuntarily hold my breath until I see her smile at me.

“Hi,” she says softly, stepping into my arms.

“Hi.” I lightly kiss the top of her head, inhaling deeply the scent of her hair as I do. We stand this way for a several seconds as I hold her. Then she looks up at me, and her bright green eyes seem full of some emotion that I can’t place. It takes me by surprise and I’m suddenly more than a little anxious.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she whispers, and I kiss her forehead. “What’s in the box?”

“Oh,” I mumble, looking down at the small pastry box in my hand. “Well, I’m not sure what your dinner plans are for tonight but, I stopped and got some cannoli from the bakery down the street.” Sam says nothing as she stares up at me. “You like cannoli?” I ask her with a small smile, and she grins at me.

“Yes. I do,” she says softly. “But I’m afraid I didn’t have the energy to make anything fancy for dinner. Just threw together an antipasto platter. I hope that’s okay.”

“Antipasto sounds great to me, baby,” I shrug. “Especially if you’ve got some salami and some marinated red bell peppers.”

“I do. I also have prosciutto and some mozzarella. Marinated mushrooms and olives and…”

“Mmm, you’re making my mouth water,” I smile, leaning down to kiss her gently on the lips.

“Josh,” Sam says softly, her big green eyes growing worried all of a sudden. “Um … I … I’m sorry. About today. About earlier … I was just so … scared and…”

“Hey,” I whisper, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close to me. “Sam, let’s not talk about your case tonight, all right? Let’s just concentrate on being together and having a nice dinner. Maybe we can end this day a little better than we began it, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers, looking up at me. I kiss her deeply then, holding her close to me for a long moment as our tongues slowly stroke one another’s, and for the first time since I was woken by her terrified screams this morning, I think we both begin to relax a little.

Chapter Four

Samantha

When my eyes flutter open, the first thing I see is Josh’s incredibly handsome face looking down at me. He’s been watching me sleep again. He is propped up on his left elbow, his head resting on his fist, and his other arm is wrapped snugly around my waist. He looks deep into my eyes and smiles at me, and I blink self-consciously.

“Hi, Sunshine,” he says quietly. Then he leans down and lightly kisses my forehead.

“Why do you call me that?” I ask softly as I snuggle closer to him. He says nothing but looks at me with the strangest expression. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he was a little embarrassed. He gives me a small smile that tells me he’s got a secret, and I watch as the secret smile suddenly morphs into that heartbreaking shy smile of his that I love.
Oh, boy! Could he be any more adorable than he already is?
I giggle softly at his reaction. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Maybe someday,” he says quietly, still smiling at me.

“That’s not fair,” I whisper, running my hand lightly over his arm.

He chuckles softly. “All’s fair in love and nicknames,” he mutters quietly, and I stop breathing.
Did he just say ‘love’?
I ignore my subconscious because I’m certain she must have heard him wrong. But judging by the sudden shocked expression on his face and the obvious fear and panic I see in his eyes, I think maybe we both heard him clearly. “Um … I … I didn’t…,”

He stammers awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable and at a loss of how to clean this up, and I am sure that his heart must be pounding at least as hard as mine is right now. I have to put us both out of our misery.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, cutting him off nervously but, trying not to sound nervous at all. “Because I think I feel like blueberry pancakes this morning.”

He looks at me strangely for a moment, as if trying to comprehend what I’m saying. Then he blinks and he nods slightly. “Blueberry pancakes sound good,” he says softly, skillfully avoiding my eyes.

This is silly. I know that what he said was just a figure of speech and that he didn’t mean to imply that he actually loves me.
Did he?
My subconscious whispers to me but, it is so much safer not to entertain that thought right now. I don’t want this to cause any more awkwardness between us. Except for the creepy events of yesterday, and the subsequent tension it put on us and our relationship, things have been going so well. I desperately want to bring back the easy comfortableness from a few moments ago. Reaching up, I lightly caress his face, feeling his stubble beneath the palm of my hand, and his eyes find mine. He looks uncertain and anxious. I don’t want him to feel that way. I kiss him softly, my lips playing gently with his for a moment. And then suddenly, he is kissing me deeply, and all the awkwardness seems to fade away as our tongues slow dance together. He pulls me closer to him and we are lost in our intimate embrace, kissing slowly and passionately, drowning in one another like we did last night, pouring all of our pent up frustrations of the day into our lovemaking.

My fingers tangle in his wavy hair as I hold his mouth to mine and I feel his hands running over my skin. The alarm clock blares loudly, startling us both and breaking the spell of enchantment we were adrift in. He reaches over and switches it off in obvious aggravation and I can’t help but giggle at his annoyed expression. He smiles at my laughter. “You find this interruption amusing, Miss Colby?” His voice is gruff and all business, as if he’s questioning me in some official police capacity, and it makes me giggle even more. He joins in on my laughter then with his own, and it’s warm and deep and heartening, and he tightens his hold around me and kisses my temple. This is bliss.

“We should get moving,” he says with a sigh. “What do you say we have a better day today than yesterday, hmm?”

“Yes, please,” I whisper, and he smiles. He kisses me swiftly and gets up, heading toward the bathroom. But he stops short and looks down at my sketchbook sitting in the chair. He picks it up, studying it with a puzzled expression and looks back at me. His questioning gaze makes me nervous, and I bite my lower lip reflexively. Is he going to be angry?

“What is this?” he asks with a frown, and I can’t tell if he’s upset or not.

“I … I couldn’t sleep and I got up to get a drink of water last night,” I tell him timidly. “When I came back to the bedroom you were sleeping so peacefully and you looked so … perfect. I’m sorry,” I finish quietly.

“You’re sorry?” His voice sounds incredulous and he’s looking at me with big blue eyes full of … astonishment, and my heart begins to sink.
Oh, no.

“Samantha … why are you apologizing? This is really, really good!”

I can’t believe his words and when I look up at him, he is staring at the sketchbook again in wonder. “You drew this while I was sleeping?” he asks, still staring at the image in his hands, and he seems to be fascinated with it.

“Yes,” I say softly, still unsure of his reaction.

“Wow,” he whispers. Then he moves back over to the bed and sits beside me. “Sam, I don’t know what to say. You are so talented,” he says, looking up at me. And his smile finally makes me relax.

“You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be angry?” he asks me, and I shrug. “What? You think because you’ve captured a very private moment of me lying here sleeping, completely nude … full frontal view…,” he’s still smiling. Is he teasing me? “Maybe that would make me angry?”

I silently shrug again, a small bashful smile on my lips. “Maybe,” I murmur.

He gives me his mega-watt, movie star smile. “No, baby,” he says softly, “I’m not angry.” He hands the sketchbook to me and stands up again. “I like it,” he says, leaning over to kiss the top of my head. He turns then and heads toward the bathroom. “You know,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks away, “you really should think about taking your friend up on her offer to show your sketches at her gallery. You’re very good, Sam.” He enters the bathroom then and a second later I hear the shower turn on.

I look down at the sketch I’ve drawn of his sleeping form. He looks so relaxed and so virile – right arm raised above his head, left leg bent slightly, his left hand resting on his abdomen while his impressive manhood rests on his inner thigh. He is so sexy and I’m proud of myself for capturing the erotic allure of Joshua Pierce. I can’t believe he actually said that he likes the sketch. The thought makes me smile.
He also said you were talented and should consider taking Lola up on her offer.
A small frisson of fear runs through me at that thought, and I roll my eyes at myself.

Setting the sketchbook aside, I get up and find my jade green silk robe and pull it on. Those blueberry pancakes aren’t going to make themselves. I head out to the kitchen and take my birth control pill, then I get to work making batter and coffee, my mind trying not to think about yesterday morning and the ‘box of horrors’ as Josh called it. And I know this is crazy … but I can’t help wondering what my stalker is doing right this very minute. Is he dreaming up some new way to torture me right now?

By the time I’ve got breakfast all plated up, Josh comes striding in looking all fresh-faced and yummy in a navy blue dress shirt and a nice pair of jeans. He finds me at the stove and he wraps his arms around me and kisses my temple, then he takes the plates from my hands and carries them over to the breakfast bar.

“Hey, Josh?” I ask nervously as we sit down to eat.

“Yes, baby?” I smile to myself as I watch him pour syrup on his pancakes. I really do love it when he calls me that. He hands me the syrup container and looks at me questioningly.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” I ask him haltingly. “About me taking Lola up on her offer?”

He looks at me for a beat and then says, “About your sketches? Yes. Samantha, you are a very talented artist. Sketching and painting is what you love to do; you shouldn’t be afraid to share that.”

I watch as he takes a mouthful of pancake and decide to ask the question that’s really on my mind. Taking a deep breath I ask, “If I did do it … how would you feel if I put a few sketches of you in a showing?”