“LUKE!”
He heard his name called, as if from a great distance, or from deep within a dream. Dream. That was it. He had fallen asleep, and he was dreaming.
Still groggy, he half smiled, savoring the sweet, indolent feeling of being half asleep, half awake. Conscious thoughts joined the subconscious. Donna. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. She had whispered his name; she was back.
He opened his eyes, stretching and turning, expecting to see her sitting in the bedside chair, watching him with those thick-lashed, sultry blue eyes. The chair was empty; so was the room.
He folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the whitewashed ceiling, wondering why he had awakened when he still felt the physical urge to sleep so strongly.
His eyes closed, flew back opened. He felt instantly, acutely, alertly awake. She should have been back.
Luke rolled over and picked up the bedside phone. He forgot to dial the nine for an outside line, and had to start dialing all over again. His number rang and rang. He hung up and dialed again. One, two, three…eight, nine, ten….She wasn’t answering.
He hung up the phone, feeling shaky. A cold sweat broke out on his shoulders.
She was on her way back here, he tried to assure himself. She was with Andrew. Maybe they had decided to stop somewhere for a bite to eat. No, Andrew would never risk his cover by appearing with Donna in a public restaurant. Maybe they had ordered sandwiches or pizza somewhere. They were sitting in one of the hospital lounges right now, probably talking about Lorna, hoping that things were going to come to a head soon.
It was no good. He just didn’t believe it. He couldn’t shake the chills, the cold sweat.
Luke took a deep breath and got out of the bed. A gray fog seemed to swirl around him. He clenched his fists at his sides and drew in another deep breath. Then another. The fog slowly subsided.
The walk from the bed to the closet seemed interminable, but once he reached his clothing and managed to shimmy into his jeans and sweater, he was beginning to feel as if his head had truly cleared and he could walk a straight line. He’d gotten a good bump on his head, he knew, but ironically, it wasn’t the bump bothering him now, but the medication.
He checked his pocket instinctively for his wallet and started for the door. Poor timing. Mrs. “Sherman tank” Simon was just on her way in.
“Father Trudeau! Just what do you think you’re doing now!”
“Ah, Mrs. Simon! It’s been delightful, but I really have to go now.”
“Father, you get back in that bed. Do you realize that you’re more trouble than a ward full of children?”
“Mrs. Simon, I really am sorry,” Luke said regretfully. “I wouldn’t make your life this miserable if I didn’t have to. But I do have to leave.”
“But you’re not dismissed! The doctor has to—”
“Luke! What are you doing?” A new voice interrupted Mrs. Simon. Luke glanced past her to see Andrew standing in the doorway.
“Where’s Donna?” he asked his brother tersely.
The confused frown that tensed Andrew’s brow was more eloquent than his reply. “She isn’t up here with you?”
“No. She left a few hours ago. She said that she was going to run home—with you.”
“I haven’t seen her since she came up here.”
“Something’s wrong, Andrew.”
Andrew didn’t question his brother. He sidestepped Mrs. Simon and hurried to the phone, dialing quickly.
“What is going on?” Mrs. Simon demanded.
“You haven’t seen my wife, have you?” Luke asked her.
“Not since she left, Father, which was the proper thing to do! She did say, though, that she was coming back.”
Luke vaguely heard Andrew instructing someone to get to his house. Andrew set down the receiver.
“Father—” Mrs. Simon began.
“Please, Mrs. Simon,” Andrew interrupted her. “I’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.”
“We’ll be out of here in just a few minutes,” Luke corrected.
“Luke!” Andrew protested. “You can’t—”
“I’m the only one who can,” Luke persisted.
Mrs. Simon looked from one man to another: a priest who looked like a movie star and acted like a devil; and a long-limbed, undipped hippy who looked like he’d been dredged out of the nearest sewer.
“Andrew is a police officer,” Luke explained. Andrew obligingly dug into his pocket to produce his I.D. and badge.
Mrs. Simon threw up her arms, making a stalwart turnabout. “I wash my hands of the two of you!” she exclaimed.
Andrew grimaced. “Very biblical.”
“Very,” Luke agreed.
The phone rang, startlingly loud in the hospital quiet. Andrew picked up the receiver quickly. “Yes?”
He made a few noncommittal grunts and hung up, keeping his eyes on the phone rather than Luke.
“What?” Luke snapped.
Andrew at last looked at his brother. “She isn’t at the house.”
“Go on.”
“Luke, your study has been torn to pieces. Nothing taken, just somebody looking for something.”
“What else?” Luke asked flatly.
“A cabbie called into the station. Seems a lady had him drive her there, asked him to keep the meter running. She never came back out.” He hesitated again, only a second. “The cabbie did see something he thought was a little strange, with hindsight. A van on the street, at night. And some guys dressed up like skiers hauling out some kind of carpet or something.”
“Skiers! Hauling around carpeting? And he didn’t know it was strange the minute he saw it?”
“You can see anything around here, and you know it, Luke,” Andrew said softly. “The cabbie said something else.”
“What?”
“He thought it was a trick of his eyes, but afterward…well, he said that the carpeting, or whatever it was, was moving.”
The room seemed to spin again. The gray fog started to swamp around him, draining his strength. His knees felt like rubber.
“Luke!”
Andrew was at his side, holding him up. Luke shook his head; the gray slowly dispersed. He steadied and pulled himself free from his brother.
“Simson,” he murmured.
“It can’t be Simson. Simson has no connection with you! And I know for a fact that he’s at the club where Tricia is singing. She checked in with me less than an hour ago.”
“Andrew,” Luke said tensely, “Simson has never had to be anywhere himself. He can hire half the hoods in the city. I’m telling you, Drew, this has something to do with Simson.”
The phone started to ring again, shattering in the night, shrill. Andrew grabbed it before the first ring was completed. After his first yes, he remained silent, listening. Then he murmured, “We’ll meet you out front.”
He hung up the phone and stared at Luke. “Tricia just checked in from the club. Someone called Simson, and he left in a big hurry.”
“Oh, God.” Luke groaned.
“Let’s go,” Andrew said. “There will be an unmarked car waiting for us by the time we get downstairs.”
Donna felt ill. The truck or van or whatever it was had lurched and turned in crazy zigzags for what had seemed like forever, always spewing gaseous fumes that now seemed to permeate even her flesh. The bedspread remained over her head, and it was difficult to breathe even the fumes.
At last the vehicle came to a halt. She felt herself being dragged and then lifted. She tried to kick and fight, but though the will was there, the strength was not. She tried to scream; all she issued were muted, garbled sounds.
She bounced about as she was carried down a length of stairs. It was cold now. Even with the spread about her, she felt a sharp, damp cold seeping through the fabric to her bones.
A moment later she was set down roughly on a frigid cement floor with her legs tangled beneath her. It was horrible. She couldn’t see, and her arms were bound. Icy fingers of dampness wrapped around her with the terror of darkness that knew no alleviation. She tried to wrest the spread from about her head while working furiously at the bounds that secured her wrists.
“Just sit tight, preacher’s woman!”
The soft laughter with its touch of cruelty could only belong to Red Cap. The spread, which she had managed to tear until she had almost dislodged it, was firmly replaced. She heard the sound of something cracking nearby and she jumped. Then she was touched again and she realized that he had only been removing his belt to better secure the spread over her eyes.
“You know, preacher’s woman,” he drawled softly, “so far, you just may get out of this okay. So far, you haven’t seen anything. If I were you, I’d be mighty grateful that I hadn’t.”
Donna went rigid, saying nothing. A feeling of despair fell over her like a sheet of ice. She had no idea of where she was. She couldn’t see and she couldn’t move. The situation seemed beyond hopeless.
“You know what we want,” the voice that was distinctively Red Cap’s said.
She wanted to scream that she didn’t know where Lorna was; she could do nothing but muffle out a protest.
“You’ve got her gagged!” Blue Cap muttered scornfully.
Donna recoiled as she felt Red Cap’s fingers reach out for her again. The belt was loosened; she flinched as his hands crawled along her torso to her throat, and on to her mouth, wrenching the scarf away. Red Cap laughed again, apparently amused by her revulsion.
“Soft as satin and lush as fruit!” Red Cap taunted. “Seems like the preacher’s got a good thing going.”
Donna stiffened, determined not to dignify his words with a protest, determined not to flinch again.
“You can talk now,” Red Cap said.
She could talk, but she couldn’t see. Where was she? Somewhere, not far away, cars were driving about, horns were blaring. People were shouting. People. She opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could.
A hand cuffed her against her cheek, the force of the blow muted by the covering over her head. It was still strong enough to make her see something other than darkness at last—an explosion of stars.
“Do it again,” Red Cap hissed, “and I’ll see that you’re missing a few teeth—understand?”
Tears were flooding her eyes. She couldn’t speak, nor would she nod. But she didn’t make any more sounds.
“Where’s the blonde?”
“I don’t know,” Donna answered dully.
“Lady, I don’t think you realize how rough things could get.”
“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where she is.”
Donna instinctively twisted as she heard a tapping coming from somewhere. She heard the shuffle of feet and then a whispered exchange. Then she heard a new voice. Refined, cultured. Deadly.
“Mrs. Trudeau. What a pity we’ve had to drag you here! I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the inconvenience. If you would just be a little cooperative, we could send you on home.”
Simson! The name seemed to scream in her mind. She didn’t know how or why she knew it was that man, whom she had never met, she was just certain that it was he….
Donna ground her teeth tightly together, trying not to shiver, desperately trying not to give way to the hysteria of panic.
“Mrs. Trudeau, I’m waiting. And I’m trying very hard to be patient. I’m just not a patient man.”
“I don’t know where she is. They wouldn’t tell me. I swear to you, that’s the truth.”
Beneath the blanketing of the spread, Donna closed her eyes tightly. Thank God they had never told her. She was so frightened. She would have given it away.
But wherever Lorna was, she was protected. By the police. Donna was alone. And Luke…Luke was in the hospital. Drugged. Probably sleeping soundly. He wouldn’t realize until morning that something was wrong.
“What do we do?” someone whispered uneasily. Donna was certain that it was Blue Cap. He didn’t seem to mind being a thief, but she was relieved that the thought of violence was disturbing to someone other than herself.
She heard a coarse laugh—Red Cap again. “If we’re going to start with a little pressure, big guy, I can think of a lot of ways I’d like to apply it to the little lady.”
She could bet he would! Donna thought heatedly. Anger faded with a rebirth of fear. What could she do if he touched her? Nothing!
“Oh, I don’t think we need to take a chance on any…physical pressure yet, boys. I would think that if we left her alone for a while she might see reason.”
“Leave her alone!” Red Cap protested.
“In the cellar,” the man Donna assumed to be Simson said smoothly. “Do you have a cellar, Mrs. Trudeau? I’m sure you do. But I’ll bet yours is fixed up nicely. A game room, maybe. Nice fireplace, maybe a bar. Or at the very least, you’ve probably got a nice laundry down there.” She felt a hand brush against the area of her cheek. “Our cellar is quite different, Mrs. Trudeau. We’ve got rats. Big, fat ones. And I think I’ve seen spiders in every shade of the rainbow down there. Kind of pretty, actually. Rats…spiders…who knows what else? And it’s cold, Mrs. Trudeau. Wet, and cold.”
The man moved away. “Let her see our cellar, boys. If that doesn’t convince her in a few hours that she wants to talk to me, she’ll be all yours for a little friendly persuasion.”
Hands gripped rudely at her again. She kicked and struggled against them. Then she went still as she felt a draft, and a scream, totally instinctive, ripped from her throat as she felt herself falling…bound…unable to break her fall.
“Scream down there all you like, Mrs. Trudeau. No one will hear you.”
But she wasn’t screaming anymore. The fall hadn’t been all that damaging, but it had knocked the breath from her and she was stunned, gasping for air.
Vaguely she heard something snap shut. A trapdoor to the cellar?
She forgot about the door. She could hear other noises. Squeeks…the sounds of scurrying little footsteps. Rats. He hadn’t lied, she was surrounded by rats.
Donna began to roll about insanely, desperately trying to free her face from the bedspread so that she could see.
Finally she managed to free herself from its blinding covering. “Then she almost wished that she hadn’t. It wasn’t completely dark—not completely. A pale trace of light filtered through the closed door, enough so that she could see around her. Old cartons, old crates, a broken set of wooden stairs covered with cobwebs. Just as she was covered with cobwebs. They were in her hair, tangling over her face, covering her lips. She opened her mouth to scream, and the web seemed to fill her mouth. “God! No!”
Spitting and gagging, she fell against the concrete floor. It was cold. So cold. And damp. Seeping into her bones…into her spirit. Again she thought fleetingly of Lorna. Thank God that she didn’t know where her friend was!
A feeling of sickness that made her gag and choke again came to her. This was only the beginning. Simson would turn her over to Red Cap when she didn’t talk….
The despair that set into her was almost overpowering. Tears of hysteria rose to her eyes again. She closed them tightly. Last night—last night at this time she had lain beside her husband’s warmth, felt his passion, his strength, his tenderness…his love. She had been cherished. Tonight her bed was hard cement. Cold. Repelling. Her music was the squeal of rats, the only soft touch was that of a spider’s web….
Luke! He didn’t even know! Wouldn’t know….Donna caught her breath suddenly. But maybe he would. Maybe he would…..
Her high rise of hope gave way to sinking despair. No. April had lost her life. And Luke hadn’t been able to do a thing.
I can’t give up! she raged inwardly as something scurried over her foot. She smothered a cry and slammed her boot against the floor.
She had to free her wrists. Grinding her teeth down hard together, Donna began to work at the bonds. She didn’t stop to wonder what she would do if she managed to free herself; she didn’t dare.
“Do you know how much time has passed?” Luke asked Andrew grimly as they drove down another street in the garment district.
“Luke, it’s a big city. We’re lucky we had a few witnesses to trace the van this far.”
“Yeah,” Luke murmured. This far, street after street, building after building stretched before them. Offices, factories, apartments. Thousands of little tiny cubicles where a woman could be hidden. His woman. His wife….
It seemed as if Andrew was playing mind reader that night. “Luke, I know it appears vast, almost hopeless. But believe me, the streets are crawling with police. Marked cars, unmarked cars. Mounted patrol. A score of the best trained dogs available. We’ll find her.”
Luke wished that he could believe that Andrew had faith in his own words. He wished he could believe something but he couldn’t. He felt nothing but desperation. Pain, fear, anxiety, and a horrible empty void where his “blind faith” should have been. He felt as he had all those years ago in the service, as if he had forgotten how to pray.
Where was everything? he wondered. The extra perception that had warned him of the danger had deserted him. His belief, the God he had thought he had come to know, was out of his reach. Fear had brought on bitterness, and he couldn’t help but question all that had been his life, his faith, his belief. All that had been so very staunch. Even when he had lost April. He had known bitterness then, pain that cut like a knife. But he had lived through it. His faith had been there to sustain him then. But now even that was gone.
“Luke,” Andrew urged in an anxiety-tinged tone. “Can’t you…feel anything?”
Luke turned on his brother with a driving fury. “Damn it, Andrew! I wouldn’t be sitting here like a log if I did! I’ve tried. And I’ve tried and I’ve—” He cut off his heated words. He hadn’t prayed. He had forgotten how. “I’m sorry, Drew,” he murmured flatly.
“Don’t be,” Andrew replied gruffly.
He pulled the old car he was driving around another corner. The sidewalks were empty. The street had an eerie feel to it. Empty. There were a lot of condemned buildings on the street. Old places, tenements deserted by city edict. There were about eight million people in the city of New York; Andrew estimated there were about eight million rats and roaches living on this street alone. They were a long ways from Park Place.
“Andrew!” Luke gasped out suddenly, tersely.
“What?” Andrew snapped in return. He’d almost driven into a telephone pole, he’d jerked the wheel so abruptly.
Luke was still, his handsome features tense in the pale, false light.
“Luke!” Andrew said again. “What is it? Do you feel something? Sense something—what?”
Luke turned sharply to his brother. “Yes…I think.”
“What? Where?”
“We’re on the street. We’re near. Straight ahead, Andrew, I’m certain.”
Andrew allowed the engine to idle, then he began to creep along the street.
“There!” Luke suddenly exclaimed.
Andrew didn’t see anything special, just another tenement.
“Where?”
Luke offered him a grim smile. “Nothing psychic, Andrew. Just a garage.”
Andrew’s heart thumped hard against his ribs. Beyond the tenement was some kind of an office building. With a garage. Where else would you hide a van?
He picked up the car’s radio and called in their position. Luke was heading out of the car before he finished.
Andrew quickly rehooked the receiver. “Luke!”
Luke glanced back at him with annoyance. “I’m not a fool, Drew. I’ll watch my step.”
“I know. I just want you to wait. I’m coming with you.”
She had never known that rats could be such bold creatures. They were supposed to run at the slightest sound. Not these rats. They stared at her in the darkness, their small, beady eyes like little rays of evil premonition. Donna returned those glares hatefully and thumped both boots hard against the floor again. The rats at last skittered and scratched away.
She tugged hard at the bonds about her wrists again, worrying at them with her fingers that were almost numb. So close to numb that once she had freed herself, it took her a moment to realize that she had done so.
Then her first action was to swipe her hands vigorously over her face to cleanse it the best she could of the cloying spider web. Thank God! She was free! Free in the cellar, at least. How long had she been down there? Long enough to feel as if the dampness had drenched her, to feel so cold that she didn’t know if she could ever get warm again.
She stood quietly, staring at the slim rays of light coming from the trapdoor. Was there another entrance? There had to be. If not, they would be coming for her. And she could see now. If she saw them….She didn’t want to continue with the thought. Nor did she dare think of her fate if Red Cap got his hands on her. She couldn’t think about rats or roaches. She had to crawl around and explore every inch of the cellar until she found something—a door, a window, a loose board. Anything.
She started moving. Spider webs brushed her hair again. She almost bumped into a support beam. She knelt down, discovering that she avoided a lot of the spider webs that way.
She kept crawling until she found a wall. It felt cold, but little colder than her own flesh. She moved on, running a hand along the wall. On and on. She recoiled in horror, stifling a scream as she touched something that moved. Swallowing deeply, she started to creep along again.
At last she touched something different. Not cement, but wood. Please God! She prayed silently. Let it be a street-level window, boarded up. Loosely boarded up.
She carefully located the boundaries of the wood. She had been right! There were several boards over a window. Ignoring the splinters that tore at her fingers, she began to tug at the boards. They were old, decaying, loose in her hands. She struggled for a firm grip on one and pulled for all that she was worth. It gave way, sending her flying back on her rear. And there was light beyond it. The murky gray light of night.
Donna stumbled back to her knees, peering through the long hole she had made. She couldn’t possibly fit through it, but if she could tear off another board….Her fingers explored and gripped the wood again. Then she paused, her heart racing with terror. There were voices again from above. A few sentences so low that she couldn’t discern the words. And then another, crystal clear.
“Bring her up now.”
Desperately she tugged at the board, ripping and tearing in mad panic.
The hatch door was thrown open. She heard it clunk and clatter as it was carelessly pushed aside. She turned her attention back to the board, pulling with all her strength as footsteps came down the rotting stairs. It was Red Cap. She knew it was he by his voice.
“Why, looky here! Our guest is trying to leave!”
He was a fairly young man, probably in his late twenties. But a long scar marred his cheek, and his eyes were as old and cruel as endless time.
Donna screamed, giving the board one last tug. This time it gave, but as she had before, she teetered backward with the momentum. Red Cap was coming closer and closer. She scrambled desperately to her feet, grabbing the board for protection. He kept coming toward her. She opened her mouth, screaming again, as loudly as she could. Long, and shrill. And desperate.
“Why, you little—”
He was coming straight toward her, suddenly he stopped. Donna realized he was looking beyond her.
A man was coming through the window. Andrew! It was Andrew! Oh, thank God!
Red Cap muttered an expletive, trying to spin about. Andrew was too quick for him. A flying leap brought him to Red Cap; the two crashed to the floor.
“Donna!”
Still too shocked to know the bliss of rescue, Donna barely recognized the voice. She turned, very slowly, as if she were in a dream.
“Luke!” His name tore in a wrenching anguish from her throat and she catapulted toward him. He engulfed her into arms that were strong and sure. Arms that were tender. Arms that convinced her she was really free at last.
“Are you all right?” He asked her hoarsely.
She nodded and was somewhat taken aback as he pushed her from him. But then she realized that Andrew was still scuffling with a man on the floor and that there was a commotion at the top of the stairs.
Luke ignored Andrew and went for the stairs.
And Donna was frightened again. For a brief second she had caught the glint of his eyes. She had never seen such fury or such ruthless purpose. But then he was gone. She heard oaths and grunts from above her, the sounds of a heavy weight falling and thumping against the floor.
“There are two of them!” She wanted to scream the belated warning but her voice was little more than a croak.
Apparently it didn’t matter. The night was suddenly alive with the screeching wail of sirens, and when her knees buckled, someone was there to hold her. Another man. In a blue uniform. It seemed she was to be helped by men in blue uniforms all night.
Distantly, vaguely, she heard Andrew muttering out Red Cap’s rights. Then she was prodded out the window and felt the cold again. But it was a beautiful cold. It came from the fresh air.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Trudeau?”
She barely saw the officer’s face. She nodded at his words and discovered that she was sitting on a step, shivering. Then someone was shoving a cup of hot coffee in her hands.
There was so much commotion! And all she could do was sit and shiver until a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders. And something more. A touch she would know anywhere, at any time. Strong, sure, infinitely tender.
“You’re cold.”
She looked up into a pair of unique hazel eyes, green and gold, earth and fire. The fury was gone from them now; only tenderness remained.
“Luke?” she murmured anxiously. One of his eyes was circled with a puffy and darkening shadow.
“I’m fine,” he said, sitting beside her and holding her close. He stared out into the night. “And Simson is…fine.”
Donna shivered again. She wasn’t sure what she felt. Yes, she did know what she felt. If Luke would have killed Simson, he would have been justified maybe in the eyes of the law. But not in his own heart.
He ruffled her hair gently. “He’ll be charged with kidnapping for tonight, and because of tonight, they’ll also be able to take him to court on the murder charges.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Tonight will make the charge much more plausible. It will substantiate all that Lorna can say on a witness stand.”
“Oh,” Donna mumbled.
“You’re still shivering,” he told her. “Are you that cold?”
She gazed into his eyes. “No, not when you’re here.”
He smiled, but his expression remained taut. “They’re going to have to ask you a lot of questions tonight, Donna.”
“I know,” she said.
“The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get home.”
“I’m ready,” Donna replied.
Dawn was breaking in streaks of muted crimson and pale gray when they at last returned to the house. Donna was so tired that she was giddy. Luke seemed remarkably awake and alert. And lighthearted. In fact, as he closed the door behind them, he broke into laughter.
Donna stared at him, certain he had lost his mind.
His eyes continued to glitter as he returned her stare. Then he reached out a hand to touch her hair, arching a brow high. “Donna, I just realized what a disaster you are.”
She saw her own reflection in the long hallway mirror. She was a disaster. Her hair was so full of dirt that it looked as if it had gone gray overnight. But she saw Luke’s reflection too, and he definitely had a black eye.
“You don’t look like such a deal yourself, you know,” she retorted.
“I guess I don’t,” he said dryly. Then he gave her a grin that seemed doubly wicked because of the shiner. “I think we should take a shower.”
“Luke! This has been the wildest, most terrifying, most horrendous night of my life! And you’re—”
“Think of it this way, Donna,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her length full against his. “Things can only go uphill from here.”
She felt like laughing. But if she started laughing….
“You’re still supposed to be in the hospital,” she reminded him.
“I’ve never felt better,” he told her, and there was a ring of sincerity to his words that she didn’t quite understand. But it was nice. Very nice.
He started walking, forcing her backward along the hall. “We really do need a shower.”
“Really.”
She wanted him. All of him. Next to her, holding her. Making love to her. Her eyes must have told him so because suddenly he wasn’t leading her backward any more. He was lifting her into his arms and carrying her hurriedly down the hallway, to the door to their bedroom. She felt his heart beat, just as she felt her own. She saw the tension and the longing in his tautening features, in the gleam of fire in his eyes. A fire she had learned could warm her, no matter how cold she ever became.
He set her down in the bathroom and began to studiously tug at her sweater. Then at his own. Then they were helping one another, and their clothes were in a tumbled heap on the floor. Then there was the blessed cleansing relief of the water shooting down on them.
With the hard spray freeing her at last of the filth of the cellar, Donna turned about, encircling Luke’s waist. The water continued to cascade over them.
“This should be wrong tonight,” she murmured against his. chest. “I mean, you should be in the hospital, exhausted—”
“I love you, Donna. And loving you can never be wrong.” She felt a shudder ripple through his length. “Donna, I don’t remember ever being so frightened in my life. Or feeling so alone. So panicked, so helpless. And then…we found you.”
She pressed her lips against the delicious dampness of his chest. “I was never so terrified myself. How did you find me, Luke?”
She felt his shrug. He dipped, grabbing the soap. She felt it slide over her back, felt his fingers, massaging….
“The taxi driver saw the van they took you in and a number of people noticed it on the street. It’s a funny green color, and Simson’s flunky was driving pretty badly. We found the district and then saw the garage. It was mostly logic.”
“Oh,” Donna murmured. “I had thought….”
The soap paused against her spine. He caught her chin, tilting it to his. “I knew,” he told her softly, “that something was wrong. But I don’t think that was unique to me, not in this circumstance. When people love one another—Donna, tonight was many things. A police department that was right on the ball and knew its stuff. People who cared to get involved and volunteered information. And—” He smiled suddenly. “I like to think that there was a little divine intervention there. I felt like I had lost more than you. And…” He hesitated, then drew her sleek wet head tight against his slick chest. “When I found you, Donna, I found everything.”
“Blind faith?”
“Blind faith.”
A little sigh escaped her. She would never know exactly how he had found her, but all that really mattered was that he had.
“Donna?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”
“Uh-uh. I was just thinking. Luke, this means that Lorna can come out of hiding now too, doesn’t it?”
He hesitated. “I think so, although I personally think she’ll need to be very careful until Simson actually goes to trial. But I think I can safely promise that you can see her very soon.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Probably,” he murmured, moving his hands again. Soap suds were erotically smoothed over her hips and buttocks.
“That’s wonderful.”
“My touch? Or that you’ll get to see Lorna?”
“Both!” Donna laughed.
“Mmm,” Luke murmured dryly, refusing to give up his quest. A shivering sensation took hold of her despite the heat of the water. Despite that of his body. Or because of his body. He was pressed so close to her—so close that she could feel his rising desire, insinuating…exciting against her bare flesh.
The soap bar came between them. Along with the expert touch of his hands. She ached for that touch, and where she ached, it came. Her breasts were swathed with soap, caressed and cupped. Liquid quivers, as pulsating as the water, shot through her, centering low in her abdomen.
“There are benefits to having a half-psychic husband,” he said.
“There are?” Donna queried. She lifted her eyes to his. They were heavy-lidded, sultry, sensual, the dark lashes thick and murky with tiny dewdrops of water.
“Hmmm. He knows…exactly where…”
“Oh, yes….”
“To touch….”
“To love….”
Luke shuddered as her fingers began to move against him. He caught her lips in a deep kiss, tasting the water that cascaded around them and the sweetness that was her breath. Her nails lightly raked over his back, his buttocks. Her touch, wickedly sensual, found the evidence of his need.
“You’re a little psychic yourself, love,” he whispered against her lips.
“Not psychic—”
“Ahh, Donna….”
“Just…in love….”
“In the shower?”
“Mmmmmmmm….”
“Mmmmmmmm….”
The water continued to fall, a fast and furious crescendo as warm and luxuriously heated as the power and sweet passion of their love. It was the longest shower Donna had ever taken. And the most wonderful. When she had at last toweled herself dry, she slept more sweetly than she ever dreamed, more at peace, more serene and secure, in the arms of her husband and lover.
She awoke late, but she heard voices coming from the study. Yawning, she slipped into a robe and walked down the hall to the study.
Luke was talking to a man she didn’t recognize at first; then she wondered how she possibly couldn’t have recognized him. He was a handsome man. As tall as Luke, with hair as dark as Luke’s rich jet. With eyes as green as an emerald sea. Clean shaven, dressed in an attractive suit.
“Andrew!” she exclaimed.
“Donna,” he said apologetically. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t be disturbing you this morning. But—”
“Andrew,” Donna murmured, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek before slipping into her husband’s arms. She smiled at him brightly. “After last night, Andrew Trudeau, you can crawl through my window any time you like.”
He laughed. “I’m glad you said that. You never know….” He lifted his hands with a grimace. “Actually, I’d glad you’re awake. Tricia should be by to drop Lorna off at any minute.”
“Wonderful!” Donna answered. As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
Luke gave her a little prod in the back. “I think that’s for you.”
She flashed him a smile and raced down the hall to the front door, throwing it open. A tall, lithe blonde stood there, smiling radiantly.
“Lorna!” Donna exclaimed. “Oh, Lorna, I’ve been so worried—”
“Donna! When I heard what had happened—”
They both broke off, hugging one another, laughing, hugging again. “Come on into the study!” Donna urged, pulling Lorna along. “Luke and—” She broke off as she entered the study. Luke was still there, smiling as he greeted Lorna affectionately, but there was no sign of Andrew. Donna raised a brow to Luke. He inclined his head briefly to the window. Apparently, her brother-in-law had left in customary fashion. Because of Lorna?
She didn’t have long to wonder. There was so much to catch up on, so much to say, so much to hear.
Luke stayed awhile, then discreetly left them. Hours passed, but when Lorna rose to leave, Donna was dismayed.
“I’ve got a flight out to Boston tonight,” Lorna explained. “They still wanted me to stay—they’re worried about Simson pulling something before the trial. But I’ve got to get home, if only for a while.”
“Be careful, Lorna,” Donna pleaded.
Lorna promised to take the utmost care, but she was still anxious to get home.
Luke reappeared to say good-bye. He stood behind Donna, his arms wrapped around her, as Lorna was driven away.
Donna waved until she was waving at nothing. Then she turned around to face Luke, her smile a little sad.
“I’d thought…I don’t know why exactly, but I’d thought there was something going on between. Andrew and Lorna.”
Luke smoothed her hair from her forehead, shrugging. “If it wasn’t meant to be, Donna, it wasn’t.”
“He crawled back out of the window rather than see her, Luke.”
“I know.”
“Maybe they’re both acting like fools.”
“Maybe. Are you planning on some matchmaking? Because if you are, you know, it’s a risky business. You should keep your little nose out of it.”
“I’m going to try,” Donna muttered, her eyes sparkling. “But, if I get a chance…”
Luke laughed. “Heaven protect us all! Donna, if there’s something special between them, it’s something they’ll have to figure out for themselves.”
“Do you think they will?” Donna asked worriedly.
Luke laughed. “I’m not a fortune teller, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” Donna said with a little grimace. Then she suddenly realized that she and Luke were finally free to get back to the business of day-to-day life. Their lives.
“I was just thinking, Luke, that this is Sunday. You should be at church!”
He smiled. “I have a very understanding employer.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I do.” His grin broadened as he dipped to slip an arm beneath her knees and lift her high against him. “He understands completely that I love my wife, and I’m sure He heartily approves.”
“Does He?”
“Definitely. Love is one of His favorite subjects.”
She smiled, feeling totally luxurious as he carried her down the hall. “Luke?”
“Yes?”
“Did I ever tell you that you make me feel absolutely divine?”
“Heavenly?”
“Absolutely heavenly.”