Under Fire (32 page)
In an instant, she found herself sprawled on top of him, crushed against his chest. His husky voice rumbled under her ear.
“Christ, what you do to me. You’re going to be late, you realize.”
“Horribly late,” she agreed happily.
With an exaggerated growl, Zack rolled her underneath him and proceeded to make good on his promise.
16
Every muscle in Cori’s body vibrated with the afterglow of morning sex . . . which had become midmorning, then afternoon sex. Whatever punishment her instructor devised would be worth the price—if she ever discovered Cori had lied about being sick.
“Do I have to ask what you’re smiling about?” From the driver’s seat of the Mustang, Zack cut a glance at her, grinning like a fool.
“Same thing you are, Mighty Phallus.”
Zack burst out laughing so hard he choked, swerving and almost driving them right off I-49 and into a deep gully. “Good God,” he gasped, struggling for composure. “You can’t say stuff like that while I’m driving.”
“Hmm. If you’re going to run off the road, I can at least make it worth our while.”
“Mercy, woman. I couldn’t make Junior perform again if you stripped naked right this minute.”
“Tonight?”
He shot her an incredulous look. “You’re not serious.”
“You’re young, with the stamina of a porn star. Great recovery time, too.”
“Gee, thanks. I think. And you’ve dated
how
many porn stars?”
how
many porn stars?”
“Beside the point.” He scowled and she giggled. “You fell for that one.”
He rolled his eyes but relaxed, appearing rather pleased. “Back to the subject of my stamina?”
“You’re such a guy. Anyway, I’ve got a plan for this evening. One to guarantee Junior’s avid participation.”
“Yeah? I’m all ears,” he said, curious.
“Nope, it’s a surprise. Just get plenty of rest.”
“Not fair.”
She smirked. “You’ll sing a different tune tonight.”
They enjoyed the rest of the ride into Sugarland in companionable silence. All too soon, Zack pulled up to the ER’s entrance and took her hand, pressing her palm to his lips. Then he leaned close and gave her a sweet, lingering kiss that made her want to tell him to turn around and take her home.
“Miss you already, beautiful.”
“Well, the bright side is the rest of the day won’t be as long now. Since you seduced me and all.”
“Turnabout’s fair play.” His blue eyes danced with mischief.
“Don’t forget it.”
“Not a chance. I’ll pick you up around six.”
Reluctantly, she got out and blew him a kiss. She watched him drive away, heart full and deliriously happy for the first time in her life.
When his car disappeared around the corner, she went inside, footsteps springy despite her being at work. The challenge of the ER was normally one she looked forward to, but compared with wild bunny sex with the man she loved?
No contest.
“Wow, that’s some expression on your pretty face, darling. Too bad it’s not for me.”
Startled, Cori searched for the location of Banning’s voice. The man, half hidden by a ficus tree, detached himself from a wall in the ER’s waiting room.
Cold enveloped her, and she couldn’t keep the hostility from showing if she tried. Didn’t really care to, either. This snake needed to get her message, loud and clear.
“Hello, Tony. Or whatever your name is.”
Caught totally off guard, he faltered. “What are you talking about?”
Hitching her purse more securely on her shoulder, she glanced around the waiting room. Doctors and nurses hurried to and fro beyond the check-in counter and double doors, reassuring her. Cocking her head, she pinned Banning like a butterfly. “Oh, I think you know. Soon, the Sugarland police are going to know, too.”
“You’re insane,” he sputtered, coloring with anger, fists clenched. “I’m exactly who I told you I am. An artist—”
“Who doesn’t know Wassily Kandinsky was considered the first modern abstract painter of the twentieth century. Don’t worry. I’m not an artist, either. Who knew?”
He took a step forward, a vein popping in his neck. “Corrine—”
“Careful. I can have five doctors grinding your nose into the tile before you can say ‘Miranda rights.’ Tell you what. Why don’t you fly far away, little man, right back to Transylvania or wherever you winged in from, alrighty?”
“Goddammit—”
“Better make it fast, too,” she sneered. “Because the police can’t hope to match the resources my brother Joaquin has at his fingertips. He’s close to making an ID on you, and when he does, no corner on earth will hide you from him.”
Oh, he wanted to throttle her. The desire was etched into the taut line of his furious body. Mask stripped, the airheaded playboy gone, he appeared hard. Lethal.
Without another word, he stormed past her and into the afternoon. She had no doubt whatsoever that if they hadn’t been in a public environment, she’d have disappeared without a trace. Shivering, she was immensely glad Zack would return to pick her up later.
She headed through the double doors and into the recesses of the ER, ugly fear treading on the joy of a few minutes before. Try as she might, she couldn’t dispel the sinking feeling she’d made a terrible mistake in tipping their hand too soon.
An error that could cost her and Zack their lives.
Zack made productive use of their hours apart, like he did each day their schedules sent them in different directions. Keeping busy seemed to make the time pass quicker, and doing little things around the place for Cori always brought a smile to her beautiful face.
First, he washed her new Explorer she’d purchased in part with the insurance payout on the totaled one. He’d thought she’d want something else, considering, but she insisted the SUV was some sort of good-luck charm. He’d saved her life in the other one, remember? Hard to argue the point.
The remaining hours he spent in the shop working on Cori’s Top Secret project—facing the door. Yeah, he resented creeping around their own property like a freaking Navy SEAL, peering into the bushes, trying to spy the enemy, tensed for another attack. He’d even thought about buying a gun, then dismissed the idea. More likely than not, he’d wind up shooting an innocent deer instead.
Still, he managed to enjoy himself and before he knew it, all the lumber was cut, some of it preassembled and ready to haul down the hill to the creek. Surveying his handiwork, he felt a surge of pride swell in his chest. By this weekend, he’d be ready to unveil her surprise—if he could keep his nosy lady from peeking.
After hooking the flatbed trailer to the tail of the tractor, he loaded the lumber and his tools and headed to his destination. He’d chosen the perfect spot for his gift, on the path they’d walked the day he’d arrived, where the trees parted and the trail led up the opposite side of the hill.
He turned off the ignition and decided to leave everything on the trailer while he worked. Hopping down, he got busy dragging boards, maneuvering, and hammering until sweat rolled into his eyes and stuck his shirt to his skin under his jacket. Eventually, the sun began to sink low in the sky and he pushed himself to wrap up for the day. Dark came early this time of year, and he needed to take a shower, go fetch Cori.
Thinking of her was all the motivation he required to call it quits. Throwing his tools in the flatbed, he left everything where it lay and trekked up to the house. Being so far from the main road, he wasn’t much worried about thieves absconding with his tractor and lumber. Their stalker was another matter, but Zack knew if the bastard wanted to ruin the project, he’d find a way no matter what.
Shoving the unease aside, he took a quick shower and dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a striped polo shirt. In fifteen minutes he was on his way to town again, anxious to see his goddess.
At the hospital, Cori wasn’t standing outside, so he pulled into a parking space near the ER’s entrance to wait. By its nature, her assignment was unpredictable in terms of punching the clock, and she was frequently late. He didn’t mind, but after twenty minutes he started to get antsy, pulse leaping in anticipation with each swing of the door.
At the half-hour mark, he was about to go inside and ask for her when she hurried outside. Spotting him, she headed for the car, shaking her head in apology and blowing a strand of hair from her face. Her ponytail was escaping the scrunchie thing and she looked harassed. Tired.
Zack got out to meet her. “Hey, you.” He pulled her into his arms.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, hugging him fiercely.
“Bad afternoon?” Boy, she was strung tight, her entire body vibrating. And not in pleasure, the way he’d left her.
“A car accident resulting in minor injuries, a child attacked by a dog. The usual.”
“What, then?”
Releasing him, she bit her lip, expression guilty. “I screwed up.”
He frowned. “What, did you get written up or something?”
“No.” She gestured to the Mustang. “Why don’t we get in? My feet are killing me.”
“Sure, baby.” He opened the passenger’s door for her, helped her in, then went around to his own side and settled into his seat. “All right, spill.”
“Please don’t be mad.”
Uh-oh. Never a great conversation starter.
Patting her hand, he tried an encouraging smile. “I won’t, promise.”
“Don’t be too hasty. Tony was waiting for me when I got here.”
“Sonofabitch. Did he touch you?”
If he did, I’ll have to cut off his hands and let him bleed out.
If he did, I’ll have to cut off his hands and let him bleed out.
“He didn’t get the chance. I sort of . . . blurted that we know he’s a fake.”
“Ah, crap. Corrine—”
“I’m sorry, but he made me so damned angry! I just wanted him to leave us alone! I thought he might even leave town for good if he knew we’re on to him.” She crossed her arms under her breasts as she defended herself.
“You honestly think he will?”
The fight left her in a whoosh. “Not really. You should’ve seen his face when I dropped the bombshell that he’s being investigated. Right then, he wanted to kill me.”
“I’ll see him dead first.” At Cori’s astonished and frightened stare, he instantly regretted saying the words aloud. He didn’t want to remind her of the other men in her past life—men she’d kicked to the curb without a backward glance. “I can’t apologize for how I feel, baby.”
She nodded, rubbing her arms. “I don’t expect you to. He scared me, and I’d defend myself if necessary, however possible. Only one other man has ever looked through me that way.”
Her husband. Again, the chill slithered along his skin. Somehow, the two men must be connected.
“Sweetheart, you’re sure there’s nothing familiar about this man? Maybe he worked with your husband, or the two of you met him at a party? Perhaps his appearance was altered, as well.”
She considered this for a long moment, then sighed in defeat. “Nothing. I swear I’ve never met him before.”
“Well, he showed his true colors, so that’s something. We’ll just have to be careful for the next few days, keep our eyes open.”
And hope the cops or Joaquin figured out the con man’s real identity before he made his move.
Which would be soon, now that he’d been tipped off.
“I’m sorry, Zack.”
Her woebegone expression twisted his heart. “Forget it, beautiful. We’ll deal with this like we have everything else. Hungry?”
“Starving,” she said, obviously grateful for a change of topic.
“Want to stop on the way home for takeout?”
“Sounds fabulous. Chinese?”
“You got it.”
Zack stopped at a restaurant in a strip mall on the way out of town, running in to pick up broccoli beef for himself, sweet-and-sour chicken for Cori. The aroma made his mouth water during the drive . . . but not as much as her hint of a seductive surprise for later.
Horn dog
, he admonished himself.
You wore her out; then she had a terrible afternoon. Give her a break.
, he admonished himself.
You wore her out; then she had a terrible afternoon. Give her a break.
They ate at the coffee table in the living room in front of a cheery fire he built in the fireplace. Talked of inconsequential topics, relaxed, and savored each other’s company.
He entertained her with stories of humorous calls Station Five had answered. One in particular stood out in his memory.
“So, we get to the elderly man’s house and he says, ‘The voice won’t stop talking to me.’ We’re thinking,
Great, this guy is senile
, but Six-Pack asks what this voice is saying. The old man says, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know.’ We’re all puzzled and Six-Pack asks, ‘You don’t know what it’s saying?’ and the old man gets upset and yells, ‘That’s what it’s saying!
I don’t know, I don’t know!
’ ”
Great, this guy is senile
, but Six-Pack asks what this voice is saying. The old man says, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know.’ We’re all puzzled and Six-Pack asks, ‘You don’t know what it’s saying?’ and the old man gets upset and yells, ‘That’s what it’s saying!
I don’t know, I don’t know!
’ ”
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