Chapter Twenty-Three

At three a.m., the phone rang next to Julia’s ear. Crap! She’d barely gotten to sleep. Thoughts of Remy and working closely with him on the Queen circled and recircled in her mind, never coming to rest. She’d been too easy, jumping into bed with him early on, trying to have her pleasure and save the Queen too. Now, he expected to have her whenever he wanted because he’d delivered the project into her arms like an orphaned baby who needed nurturing. It went against her policy of not sleeping with co-workers, and enforcing that rule would be difficult if they were together every day.

Sure, she was still pissed about his throwing Todd under the streetcar, but the sheriff knew better right from the start. Only her intern’s ego had been bruised and nothing else. Because she demanded it, Remy settled that with an apology, insincere and ill-accepted by Todd. They both needed to get over it. And her uncles. What was with them? All that back slapping and saying she’d been too hard on good, old Remy. They’d never approved of a single man she’d gotten involved with, and now they loved Remy. Men!

The phone continued to demand her attention. Only three types of calls came at this hour: family emergencies, building disasters, and pervs who dialed randomly hoping to say something obscene to women only half awake and not expecting it. Regardless, she needed to answer before voice mail asked for a message. She spoke the salutation she used when conducting business or shutting down pervs, a stern, “Rossi, here.”

“Joo-ya, oh, Joo-ya.”

She nearly told the perv to go to hell before she noticed the number belonged to Remy. The voice didn’t sound like his. “Remy, is that you?”

“Un-huh.”

“Well, I don’t do booty calls at three a.m. or any other time.”

“But you could make me feel sooo much better.”

She considered the silly request from the usually smooth Remington Broussard and asked, “Are you drunk or high?”

“High on some really good painkillers. Feel like I’m floating a foot above the bed. I need you to climb on top and bring me back to earth.”

“If you are taking painkillers, it wouldn’t be worth my effort. You’ll be too numb.”

“That part works independently, don’t cha know. Come be with me.”

Julia huffed an exasperated sigh into her phone. “I don’t rescue druggies, and I certainly don’t sleep with them. If I’d known you had a problem…”

“No problem, a—an accident.” He fumbled trying to find the right article. “Been to the hospital. Fell down my stairs. Please, please, pretty please, come make me feel better, Joo-ya. I’m all alone.”

“How did you manage to get to the hospital and back again?” she questioned, all the while imagining that he’d been entertaining another woman when the accident occurred because she’d been cold to him that afternoon, making it partially her fault. Maybe they’d been drinking heavily which explained why he’d fallen down his own metal staircase.

“Had guests, Slick ’n NuNu ’n some of the gang. Drove me to Lafayette and brought me back again. Gone now. Safe to visit.”

“You shouldn’t be alone.” She’d heard of people taking falls, being discharged, and dying of a blood clot. Remy isolated in his black tower, she couldn’t bear the thought.

“Thass what I saaaid. Didn’t I?”

“I’m on my way. Can you buzz me in and get to the door?”

“Nope. Doubt if my pals locked up though. C’mon in.”

“Right away.” She didn’t bother with the niceties like a bra or underwear, simply pulled up her jeans and threw on a T-shirt, finger-combed her hair, and shoved the sneakers on her feet. Scooping up her keys, Julia eased out of her bedroom and quietly shut the door.

Despite her care, Marv, clad in black silk pajamas, appeared in his doorway. He didn’t sleep well, he claimed. Now she believed him. “Is there a problem? Has the Queen been attacked again?”

“No. Remy took a fall down his stairs and had to go to the emergency room. He’s all alone, so I’m going over to his place to make sure he’s okay.”

“How on earth did he get to a hospital and back?”

“Some of his relatives were there.”

“Then, I’d say Remy didn’t tumble down that staircase on his own. Be careful, Julia.”

“Thanks for the warning. I’ll be back in the morning early.”

She went on her way, climbed into the truck, and edged it slowly past the darkened motorhome. Once on the road, she gunned the engine and sped toward the nearest bridge, crossing to Remy’s side of the bayou. The gate stood open as well as his door, letting in the mosquitoes, wood roaches, and moths. She put an end to that, locked the two of them inside, turned on a light, and started for the stairs. A half-empty wine bottle and two glasses sat on his desk. He’d definitely had company, but while climbing the stairs, she noticed no splotches of blood on the metal treads or landings. Could he be faking simply to lure her in the middle to the night?

Remy heard her coming and emitted a pathetic, “Joo-ya?”

“Yes, I’m here.” No, he wasn’t faking.

She barely recognized the person propped up in the king-sized bed with the black satin quilt thrown over his legs and the zebra hide bunched at his feet. The area of his chest not bound by white bandages bore purple blotches. A sling held up one arm, but the worst of it was his face. His dark eyes merged with the black rings under them, bridged by a swollen nose. A split and puffy upper lip stretched into a painful white smile to welcome her. At least, he hadn’t lost any teeth. However, his deep dimples were obscured by the facial swelling. Only a table lamp lit the room. How much worse would he appear in broad daylight?

“Joo-ya,” he said again and held out his good arm, the wrist ringed in bruises.

Julia went to him and lifted the unkempt hair off his brow, touching him in a maternal gesture. “All this happened from a fall down the stairs?”

“Thass the story.” He lifted the spread and patted the mattress.

“Really, with a broken arm you want me to sleep with you? You are high.”

“Not broken. Dislocated shoulder. Few cracked ribs. But you’ll be fine.”

“I think you mean I’ll be fine.”

“What I said. Make me feel better.”

“You want a reward for being clumsy?”

“Not for what I did. Mostly, I want your hot body next to mine.”

“That sounds like the Remy I know, always hitting on me.” She sat on the side of the bed, and he lost no time running his hand under her T-shirt and fondling her breast.

“You made it easy for a sick man. Thanks.”

“Not my intention. I drove here in a hurry.”

He tried the zipper of her jeans, but snagged it halfway down. Julia completed the maneuver herself, kicked off her shoes, and slid in beside him. “Only to keep you warm. You’re shivering.”

“It’s the drugs. Honest, I’m fine below the waist. Wouldn’t want the famed Broussard fertility messed up, now would we?”

“You’re talking nonsense. Snuggle up and try to sleep—unless I can bring you an ice pack or something.” Julia turned out the light on the night table, rolled on her side, and spooned her rump against his hip.

“Or something is what I want. Wide, wide awake.”

“I might hurt you.”

“No, no. I’ll just lie here and enjoy it like a woman. Let you do all the work.”

“If your ribs weren’t already broken, I’d crack them for that remark.” Remy worked one of his legs between hers and used his left arm to lever her over onto his pelvis. “I’d fight you on this, but you’re already beat up—and hard. I cannot believe you’re hard.”

“As quick-setting concrete since you climbed into bed. Ease my pain, Joools.”

“One wince, and we’re done.” She carefully lowered herself on his erection, going slow which only made him grin and split open his swollen lip again. “Your mouth is bleeding.”

“Not much. Really don’t feel it. All my blood is rushing somewhere else.”

Julia leaned forward and positioned her arms carefully on either side of his bandaged ribs. She arched her back and pumped gently up and down. A good enough start though it did little for her—but this was for Remy. Too slow for him, also, as he surprised her with a matching hip thrust as she lowered. Then, they were in tandem, moving in the darkness, experiencing the build, the lift, the climax together. She felt that more than sex connection again, the rightness of their being as one.

He did go on longer than usual thanks to the drugs, but Julia had no complaints. By the time he bucked inside of her, she’d come twice and was ready to dismount. Cuddling would have been nice if he’d had any place left on his chest that didn’t seem painfully sore. As his eyes, what she could see of them, closed in sleep, Julia resumed her spoon position and rested too. She’d done what he’d asked and all she could for the moment.