Hell on Heels Page 22
Minutes later, as lightning streaked across the night skies, Chantal drove toward the west side of town where she hoped to catch sight of one Phillip Browning who had skipped out on bail a week before.
As she drove, she went over the case in her mind. Phillip Browning had been arrested for a string of traffic violations. Joey had posted the bond and Phillip had neglected to show up in court.
She wasn’t expecting trouble. Other than the fact that Browning liked to collect speeding tickets then not pay the fines, he had no history of other criminal activity or violent behavior.
It was the kind of case that most bounty hunters rarely concerned themselves with because of the small recovery fee. But Chantal was bored and there was nothing else on the skip board to interest her.
Luke was gone.
She wondered where he’d run, how far he’d gone to start a new life? Had she threatened him in some way? She’d tried so hard to hide her feelings for him, to make him think what they’d shared in Tamillo had been nothing of consequence to her.
Maybe she was being completely egotistical to believe that his moving on had anything to do with her. Maybe he’d just decided it was time.
She’d just pulled up in front of Phillip Browning’s darkened house when the rain began. It was a summer deluge, complete with roaring thunder and whips of wind.
No way, she thought. No way she was going to ruin her clothes by getting out in this storm. Browning would have to wait…she had her priorities.
A half an hour later she pulled into her garage. The storm that the weathermen had said would be quick-moving and brief had apparently stalled overhead.
Nothing better than sleeping with the sound of thunder and the patter of rain, she thought as she got out of her car and went through the door that led into her kitchen.
Sam hissed and spat from his perch on top of the refrigerator. The cat had reverted to his natural cranky character in the last couple of days.
“Just my luck,” she muttered as she walked down the hallway to her bedroom. Two men in her life, one a cranky cat and the other gone with the wind.
Within minutes she was in a silk nightgown and matching robe and at the computer writing Belinda a letter. Belinda wasn’t allowed phone privileges yet, but Chantal had gotten a letter the day before from her saying that things were going as well as could be expected. She was working the program and felt positive about her life.
Chantal had just finished her letter and shut off the computer when her doorbell rang. She frowned and glanced at a nearby clock.
After ten. Who would be at her door at this time of night in the middle of a storm? She was certain it wasn’t the Avon lady.
She grabbed her gun from her desk drawer. Even though she believed Mundy had been effectively neutralized, she wasn’t taking any chances.
Flipping off the gun’s safety, she walked toward the front door. A boom of thunder was followed by a rapid knock. She peered out the peephole and gasped in shock.
Luke stood on the porch, drenched to the bone. She couldn’t help the way her heart jumped at the sight of him. She set the gun on the table in the foyer, then fumbled with the door locks.
“Can I come in?” he said without preamble as he strode past her and into the living room. “We need to talk.”
She steeled herself. The last time he’d said those words he’d told her about Mundy’s price on her head. Whatever he had to discuss didn’t appear to be pleasant, as his mouth was set in a grim line and tension radiated from him.
“Talk about what?” she asked. Even soaking wet the man looked awesome. His shirt clung to his chest, defining the muscles beneath. Droplets of rain sparkled in his dark hair and as usual he looked as if he could use a shave.
He stared at her for a long moment without speaking. He drew a deep breath, then expelled it. “Cold beer…pepperoni pizza…Chiefs’ football games…” he muttered.
She narrowed her gaze. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Not at all. You said it worked for you when you were feeling nervous and anxious. I thought I’d give it a try.” He jammed his hands into his pockets, looking as uncomfortable as she’d ever seen him.
“Luke, what’s going on?” Luke’s nervousness made her nervous.
He walked over to the bank of windows and stared out, his back rigidly straight. For a long moment he remained silent, the quiet broken only by a rumble of thunder and the patter of rain against the glass panes.
“For the last thirteen years, since my parents’ and Seth’s deaths, I haven’t allowed anyone to get close,” he finally said. “If I felt myself drawn to a woman, felt like my emotions might get all tangled up, I ran.”
He turned back to gaze at her, his eyes as dark as she’d ever seen them. “I came back from Mexico and had decided it was time to move on. I’ve spent the last couple of days thinking about where I’d land, what kind of a job I’d get. But for the first time in thirteen years I let somebody get close and I don’t want to run.”
Chantal’s heart stuttered as he took three steps toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He smelled like the night…hot and wet and there was something wild, something hungry in his eyes.
“Hell on heels…I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you.” His hands moved slightly on her shoulders, caressing the silk of her robe. “Look, I know we come from two different worlds. You have a private jet at your disposal, about all I could manage would be a private horse-drawn carriage for a ride in the park.”
He dropped his hands, but didn’t step back from her. “I came here tonight because I couldn’t stand it anymore. I need to know if Tamillo was just a one-week fling to you or if it was something more?”
They had begun something in Tamillo and only time would tell where it would lead, but as she looked at him and saw the need in his eyes and felt a responding need in her, she knew she was in for the ride.
“I’ve always loved carriage rides in the park,” she said.
He smiled then for the first time since he’d come into the house. It was that sexy half smile that sent her pulse pounding. “What do you say we recreate our roles as honeymooners?” Her reply must have been on her face for he scooped her up in his arms.
She’d known this man was dangerous to her from the instant she’d laid eyes on him. He came to her with no pronouncement of undying love, no promises for any lasting commitment. She wouldn’t have believed him if he had.
The future would take care of itself. They had plenty of time. For the moment it was enough that he was here with her now.
She leaned her head against his chest. “Prada handbags…sushi…Crazy Luke Coleman,” she murmured as he carried her down the hallway to the bedroom.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5934-2
HELL ON HEELS
Copyright © 2006 by Carla Bracale
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