Hold Me (7 page)

He wondered if she’d gotten lost.

It took a little while, but Katie eventually found the first stairwell and the second floor and the third room on the right. Unfortunately, she wasn’t entirely sure that she’d be able to make it back to the kitchen. Maybe if she’d brought along a loaf of bread and left a trail of crumbs…except that bear Luc thought was a dog would probably have eaten them. She definitely should have brought her cell phone so she could call for help, though. I’m in the study. I repeat, the study with Professor Plum and a candlestick…

She shook her head. She was rapidly losing what was left of her mind. What had that been all about, massaging his foot? His foot, for sweet Christ’s sake. She’d never even thought of touching Tom’s feet.

And that begged another question—how could a man have been through everything Luc had been through that day and still manage to have good-smelling feet? He wasn’t even freaking human.

Katie stopped at what she thought was the right door and grabbed the knob with frustrated violence, then hesitated when it belatedly occurred to her that this was Luc’s bedroom. His private space. His inner sanctum.

Hmm. What would she find? Red velvet? Spartan cloister? Blow-up dolls with fish tanks for breasts?

She opened the door and peaked inside, then blinked and stepped over the threshold.

“Jeez.”

Of course, the first thing she noticed was the bed. It was kind of hard to miss. It was massive, as big and impressive it its own way as the house. Four giant posts reached almost to the ceiling, and the mattress seemed to go on forever. It faced a large stone fireplace that took up most of one wall, and there was a very attractive bay window off to the side with a small sitting area. She wouldn’t have imagined Luc sleeping someplace so, well, pretty.

But she had to admit what really surprised her were the books. Not only were there bookcases full of books, there were piles and piles and piles of books in every position, covering every surface, seemingly on every topic. She wandered farther into the room, intrigued and, in a way, enchanted. There were books on the floor, books on the dressers, books on the nightstands, and an impressive stack of volumes teetering next to the bed. It was just so completely unexpected that if the space hadn’t been so obviously occupied she would have thought she’d made a mistake.

After a moment, she walked through the bedroom to the attached bathroom and stopped short again when she saw a whirlpool tub and walk-in shower. Her apartment had a cramped shower stall barely big enough to stand in.

Her apartment. Would she ever see it again?

Just like that, the fear came back. The uncertainty.

She wouldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t deal with that now.

Keeping her mind on her mission, Katie found the aspirin and the elastic bandages, then headed back downstairs to her patient. She only got lost twice. But when she eventually made it to the kitchen, it was empty. Even Spot was missing.

“Luc?” She was surprised by an irrational spurt of panic.

“In here.”

Following the sound of his voice, Katie went through swinging doors into a well appointed family room. There was a large fireplace at one end, flanked by several comfortable-looking armchairs. A wide flat-screen television took up most of another wall. Luc was stretched out on an old sofa in front of it.

“Welcome back. I was just getting ready to send out the hounds. Or, I should say, hound.” He nodded at Spot, who was lying on a nearby rug, snoring.

“You moved,” she accused and walked briskly around the sofa to check on his ankle.

“I had to. That kitchen chair was torture.” He took a long sip from a glass filled with clear amber liquid, saw her look and smiled as he set the glass down. “Don’t worry. It’s just ginger ale.”

“Oh. Okay.” Embarrassed for no good reason, she put down her loot from the master bath and studied his ankle. He’d wrapped it in the dishtowel and piled ice packs around it. “Good idea,” she admitted, gesturing to the mountain of ice.

“I have them every once in a while.”

“The couch will get wet when everything melts.”

“So?”

She just barely resisted rolling her eyes. But she’d had more than enough experience with the male of the species to restrain herself and shrug, hands in pockets, one hip cocked.

“Hey, up to you. Personally, I’d think it would get kind of uncomfortable when the whole thing is soaked with cold water, but that’s me.”

He grimaced. “Uh, yeah. Good point.”

“I have them every once in a while.”

“Smart ass.” His lips twitched quickly as if he was hiding a grin.

“I’ll get another towel. Stay.”

“Staying.”

Luc let her fuss. To tell the truth, he was more than a little flustered by the whole thing. His mother had fussed over him when he’d been small. Before the ovarian cancer had come and swept her away like a sudden hurricane. But that had been a long, long time ago. And since he’d met David, Mama Allen brooded over him, treating him like a chick she was determined to hatch. But none of the other women in his life had ever cared much about what he did, as long as he could, um, perform.

To have Katie McCabe bustling around knocked him completely out of whack.

It took a few minutes, but eventually she had him settled on the sofa, towels under and around his ankle, which was once again smothered with ice packs. She gave him a few aspirin and buzzed over him, watching sternly while he took them. Then she plumped up the sofa cushions, put another pillow behind his back and placed the remote control where he could reach it.

“There.” She stood back, beaming down at him. Her hair was a springy auburn halo in the soft yellow lamplight.

Luc could only stare at her while something shifted inside him.

Then her stomach growled, long and loud, and she grimaced, rubbing it. “Sorry. Those crackers David bought me at the police station just didn’t cut it. Should I get out one of those frozen pizzas? Or do you want something else?”

“Food.” Luc groaned. “I forgot all about food. Uh, yeah, a pizza would be good, or I might have a few cans of soup…”

He could have kicked his own ass. He hadn’t been able to get home in over a week. The neighbor who cleaned the place and watched Spot for him while he was gone usually left a casserole or something, but she hadn’t expected him back for a couple of days.

“Soup,” Katie decided. “Pizza will take too long. I’ll see what I can do.”

She did pretty well. Luc didn’t know how she’d made canned soup taste so good. Of course, it could have been that he was hungrier than he’d thought. Food hadn’t exactly been his top priority of the day.

When they were finished, Katie carried the bowls back out to the kitchen, then returned and started taking the ice off his ankle.

“We should probably let it rest for a little while and give the packs a chance to refreeze,” she told him as she efficiently wrapped his ankle in an elastic bandage for support.

Luc, who’d had more experience than he wanted in tending his own injuries, knew he should tell her that she’d done enough. That he could handle things now. But he just couldn’t bring himself to make her stop.

“You sure seem to know what you’re doing,” he said instead.

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Katie took the ice packs to the freezer. When she came back, he watched with some amusement as she ignored three perfectly good chairs in the room and plopped herself down to sit on the carpet next to the sofa. She settled back against it with a sigh. “Boy, am I tired,” she said.

“You should go to bed. You can use my bedroom. None of the others are in shape anyway.”

“Thanks.” She glanced at him, then away. “Um, what about you?”

“Believe me, I’m not going anywhere tonight. I’ll sleep down here.”

“I’m afraid I’ll drown in all of the books,” she said, then looked at him, her expression sharp with sudden curiosity. “Those belong to you, right? Or are you just a caretaker for them too?”

He shrugged, a little embarrassed. He’d forgotten about the damn books. “They’re mine. I like to read.”

Katie stared at him, obviously waiting for him to add something.

“That’s it? Just, you like to read?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, heck, I like to read, too, but I don’t have an entire bookstore in my bedroom. It must have taken you years to collect them all.”

“A few. I got most of them after I got out of the Army.”

“Because you like to read.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s this thing called a library, you know.”

“I like to own them. Then they’re mine. Pain to move, though.”

“Hmm.” She continued to stare at him before turning away again. “I think you’re an addict.”

“Probably.”

“Bordering on an illness.”

“No doubt.”

Her wonderful hair was stretching toward him. Luc touched it with gentle fingers. It felt so soft and vibrant. Alive.

She stiffened a little, but didn’t move away. “I’m tired, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep,” she said. “Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

Luc looked at his fingers in her hair and smiled when the red curls insisted on wrapping around them. All parts of her were determined. “Why don’t you tell me about your family,” he said. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring them up, but the thoughts, the doubts, the uncertainty were whirling around inside him. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to know once and for all.

“There’s not much to tell. I have three brothers, two sisters and a foster sister.”

“Foster sister?” he repeated slowly. His stomach clenched, he pulled back his hand. Foster sister.

Katie didn’t seem to notice. She was looking at the wall, her head slightly tilted, wild hair falling to reveal the graceful curve of her neck.

“Melanie and I met in middle school when we were both twelve or thirteen and having a bad time. Some of the other girls were making fun of her in the cafeteria because she didn’t wear new clothes or something stupid like that. I defended her.” Katie laughed. “I had kind of a temper back then.”

“Hard to believe.” He was surprised he could speak. He’d heard this story before.

Oh, hell. Melanie.

“Those girls were jerks anyway, and they already hated me. Cheerleaders.” Katie snorted. “Well, I think they were cheerleaders. Anyway, Mel and I banded together out of self-defense, but it was more than that. It was like I’d always known her, if that makes any sense.”

Luc nodded.

“I realized she was in foster care and that she was in a bad situation. Really bad. I went to my parents and convinced them to take her in. Mom and Dad went to court, and somehow they were able to get her moved into our care. My mother has connections.”

She looked back at him and he saw she was smiling. “Mel’s like my real sister. I forget that we didn’t grow up together.” The smile dimmed. “She was hurt in a car accident when we were eighteen, but she’s pulled herself together. I admire her.”

Luc couldn’t think of anything to say. Didn’t know how he felt. His mind was blank, as frozen as his ankle.

Her eyes sharpened as she continued to watch him. “Are you okay?” she asked.

No, Luc wanted to say.

“I’ll bet she calls you Annie,” he whispered finally, needing to fit in the last piece of the puzzle.

Her eyes widened with surprise. “How did you know?”

Luc was silent for several long seconds. Then he forced himself to smile and reached down to tug her curls. “Little Orphan Annie from the comics. It’s obvious.”

“Yeah, well, everyone in my family seems to find it quite amusing. I’ve never really thanked Mel for that little gift.”

Katie didn’t know how much she’d given Melanie in return, Luc thought. He realized she was watching him closely, her blue eyes intelligent and aware behind the glasses that hid so much of her face. She had soft, soft, skin. Freckles. God. It was her.

“You look strange. Are you sure you’re all right? Do you need me to do something for you?”

Yes!

“No.” He cleared his throat and straightened a little against the cushions. “I’m tired. I need to rest now.” His voice was harsh.

“Oh. Okay. Well, uh, I’ll just go to bed then.” Katie stood. He could tell she was trying to understand what was going on. He couldn’t do anything to help her. “Do you, ah, need a change of clothes? Or something?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“The ice—”

“I said I’m fine. Go to bed.”

He saw her quick temper flare, but she nodded.

He was going to let her go, let her be angry with him and think he was being patronizing and insensitive, but when she turned away he found himself grabbing her hand.

“Pleasant dreams.” He placed a gentle kiss in the center of her palm before he could stop himself.

She looked at him, startled, and pulled her hand away. He was too surprised by his own actions to stop her.

“Goodnight,” she said and fled the room.

Luc closed his eyes. “Goodnight, Annie,” he murmured.

Her hair. He should have known her right away. He should have recognized her hair.

Jesus Christ, he thought. Sometimes life was pretty damn ironic.

Katie thought she probably wasn’t going to need to worry about having many dreams, pleasant or otherwise. With a little luck, she’d been able to find her way back to Luc’s bedroom, but once there she just couldn’t seem to settle down. The nap in the car had taken the edge off her tiredness, and now her mind was racing, thoughts flying back and forth so quickly she was afraid she might be going insane. And Luc wasn’t helping.

Why had he kissed her hand? Why had he sent her away when he could tell she needed to talk to somebody?

Katie prowled the bedroom, picked up books, looked at them, put them down again. She was full of a restless energy that only intensified when she tried to be calm.

“This is ridiculous.”

She needed sleep, and she needed something to wear because she was not going to get into Luc Vasco’s huge bed stark naked. So she had no choice but to paw through his dresser drawers. And wasn’t that…intimate.

“Well, he’s the one who said I would have to make do with what I could find,” she muttered. But she still felt herself blush when she opened a drawer and found his underwear. Briefs. Quickly she shut that one and opened another. T-shirts. Much better.

In typical man-fashion, most of the shirts on the top were, well, ratty, so Katie started digging through the pile. If Luc was anything like her brothers, there would be a couple he didn’t wear because they were too far down to make them worth the effort of retrieval.

Then her fingers touched something silky.

Silky?

She shouldn’t look, Katie thought. She really shouldn’t. She should respect Luc’s privacy, get out a T-shirt and walk away.

She wasn’t going to do that, but she should.

She grabbed the silky slip of cloth and pulled out an incredibly small pink teddy. She held it up and stared. Some nastier minds might have assumed that Luc was trying to hide a habit of cross-dressing, but Katie had no doubt at all this tiny scrap of fabric didn’t belong to him. Wrong size.

There was a name embroidered on the tag. She twisted it around so she could read it. “Liza.”

Liza. Where had she heard that name before? Oh yeah. They’d mentioned her at the police station.

Luc and Liza. Cute.

Katie stuffed the teddy back in the drawer and pulled out a T-shirt that was old, but clean and relatively hole-free.

She’d gotten what she deserved. If she hadn’t looked, she wouldn’t have known. She went into the bathroom, took off her clothes and put on the shirt. It fell to her knees. Of course she could have worn the teddy, but that was
so
not going to happen.

She found a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and brushed her teeth vigorously, then washed her face and headed back to the bed. Placing her glasses carefully on one of the nightstands, she climbed under the sheets and, engulfed in a sea of mattress, leaned back against the headboard.

Liza.

All at once, Katie felt very, very much alone. She sat straighter and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly until she was a little ball in the big bed.

Well, of course Luc had a girlfriend. Stupid to think that he wouldn’t. A guy who looked like he did wouldn’t be walking around loose. And it really didn’t make much of a difference to her one way or the other. She needed him because he’d gotten her into a frightening mess, and now he had to help her get out of it. She was just a job to him anyway. A mistake.

And what was she doing worrying about Lucas Vasco’s love life? She had a few bigger problems on her plate. Such as whether she’d be murdered. Whether she’d ever see her family again. Whether she’d ever have a life again.

Yeah, that was a good one.

She thought about the future, struggled to see something to indicate there was going to be an end to this nightmare. It was blank. She couldn’t even see herself.

“Is this it?” she asked the question out loud. “Is this my life now?”

Then, almost unwillingly, she began to cry. The tears were wrenched out of her. As if they were hard. As if she was vomiting them out of her system. She cried because of today. She cried because of the days and years before today. She cried because of Frankie Silvano. She cried because of her father. Because of Tom.

Mostly, though, she cried because she was just so alone. So scared. So powerless.

In the privacy of Luc’s bedroom, in the quiet of the abandoned second floor of his castle, all of Katie’s pain and fear poured out of her, and she couldn’t stop it.

All she could do was grab Luc’s pillow, hold it tightly against her chest, bend her head, and cry.

Luc knew it wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Twisting, he pulled the photograph out of his pants pocket. He looked at it, smoothing it absently, even tenderly. It was faded and old. Twenty years old, in fact. It had been halfway around the world with him. Gotten into fights with him. Saved him more than once. He’d never shown it to anyone, not even to David. Not even to David’s mother.

Two thin and gawky girls were standing with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, grinning into the camera like imps. The girl on the right appeared to be as delicate as a fairy, but was really stronger than anyone he’d ever known. She had soft, straight brown hair and eyes he knew were hazel.

“Hello, Melanie.” He smiled and touched her young face in the photo. That sweet face held shadows now. He’d been sick with worry and guilt when he’d found out about the car accident because he should have been there to help her. But he’d been off doing his stint in the Army and hadn’t even known something was wrong until she’d already recovered.

Later, when he’d finally seen her, he’d confirmed for himself that her leg was okay. The scarring wasn’t too bad and the limp was minor. In fact, it wasn’t nearly as noticeable as the limp he had right now. But it bothered her. Had damaged her. It was a girl thing, she’d said. He knew better.

As much as he loved to look at Mel and remember her, he loved looking at the other girl in the picture even more. Something about her had always made him smile, even when he’d been exhausted. Even when he’d been in hell.

She was a spry little elf with a cap of wild, curly red hair and an expression that announced to the world she had arrived and was ready to take over.

“Hello, Katie.” Always before he’d called her Annie, but now for the first time he called her by her real name as he gently touched the image of the soft, round face. How many times, in how many places had he sat staring at this picture and thinking about this girl? Annie. Katie. He had looked into her young face and wondered about her. Wondered what she was like, how she’d grown up. Wondered what it was about her that drew him.

Well, he sighed. Well.

Her hair was shorter in the picture than it was now. As if someone had tried to tame it. He laughed a little because that hair was never going to be tame. It had too much life trapped in the wild curls. And now he knew that he’d been right about the color of her eyes. He hadn’t been able to tell from the picture, but he’d always thought they’d be blue. He just hadn’t expected them to be as clear as a summer sky.

The cocky pre-teen confidence of the young girl’s smile had dimmed in the adult, her mouth still sweet but wistful. What had happened to her? What hadn’t Melanie told him?

Luc forced a deep breath and turned over the photo, tracing Melanie’s scrawled handwriting on the back. The ink had almost worn off, but it was still clear enough to read. “Me and Annie.”

Well, grammar had never been Melanie’s strong point. She’d been ten years old when they’d been thrown together at that god-awful foster home and barely able to read her own name. The only way he’d been able to get her to learn at all had been by letting her look at his precious comic books. He wished she’d told him that Annie wasn’t the girl’s real name, but then again he should have remembered how she named everyone she met after the comics.

Luc sighed, closed his eyes. The box holding his memories had opened now, and they flowed through him like water. Like a flood. He knew from experience that the best thing to do was just let them run their course and then lock them up again.

Melanie had cried the night he’d left, but he’d known that he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t stick around because if he’d gotten caught it would have been really bad. He’d waited as long as he could to make sure she was finally in a decent situation before he took off.

He rubbed the scar, then the side of his face. God, he really needed to shave.

She’d shoved the photo at him as he’d climbed out of her bedroom window and cried and asked him to remember her. As if he could have forgotten.

He thought about how impressed he’d been that she’d been given her own bedroom in the old farmhouse where she’d gone to live, because he’d known that the McCabes already had a ton of kids. It was only temporary until she’d settled in, but still. He’d been tempted to ask if they’d notice one more boy hanging out in the basement, but he’d known that he couldn’t stay.

Was Katie the one who’d eventually moved in with Mel? Probably. Maybe he’d have been able to see her if he’d stuck around.

Luc shook his head. Stop.

He didn’t have any more pictures. Only this one. There’d been letters and phone calls and Mel had visited him in Philly after he’d gotten out of the service and finished college, but she didn’t send him any more pictures. She hated having her photograph taken, and he hadn’t had enough guts to ask for a new one of Annie.

Jesus, it had been stupid for a grown man to feel the way he did anyway, so he’d done his best to ignore it. But he’d gotten Mel to talk sometimes. And, as ridiculous as it was, he’d hung on the little snippets of information casually tossed out here and there.

If he’d listened to Mel three years ago, he’d have met Katie then. Annie. Katie. But he’d chickened out. Big time. He couldn’t quite believe how freaking terrified he’d been at the thought of actually meeting Melanie’s foster sister. He’d been afraid she would look at him with those clear eyes and see right through him. That she’d see him for what he was, a fraud and a coward. That she’d see the violence and the mistakes and turn away from him. Then the dream would be over, and he’d be left with nothing and he couldn’t handle that. So he’d run.

And now, here he was. Forced to deal with the reality of her anyway. Forced to live with her. Forced to try to hide the truth about himself so he wouldn’t lose all of her respect. Sworn to protect a woman he’d thought he would never meet. She fucking terrified him. And she was trapped, and he trapped with her.

He’d been wrong. Life wasn’t just ironic. Sometimes it was downright twisted.

Christ, what was he going to do now?