Sweet Backlash (19 page)

When she came from her room, he could
only stare. He loved her. He sat unmoving, struck by the
realization. By the time she headed for the door, they had to hurry
or arrive late to work.

All day, he fought the urge to take
her somewhere private, get her alone and naked. As the day
progressed, dark circles formed under her eyes and she began to
wilt. By three o'clock, she just stopped. He went to her
desk.

"Bethson's out," she said without
looking.

"I know. Do you have a minute to come
to my office?" He didn't like her pale countenance.

Without a word, she collected a pen
and notepad and followed. He closed the door and indicated she
should sit in one of the chairs facing his desk. In his own seat,
he tried for a casual posture in case anyone watched through the
glass wall. Folding his hands behind his head, he brought a foot up
to a knee and leaned back with a rocking motion.

"Don't ask me to go," she said as if
reading his mind.

"I have to. You don't need to be here
right now."

She faced the windows overlooking the
street but closed her eyes. "How could they let him go
free?"

Chip scooted forward and pressed his
palms together on the desk between them. "I made some calls this
morning. I'm expecting to hear from the attorney who managed your
case. Magliari, I think is his name. I got it from a brief in one
of your boxes. We're going to figure a way to send Bethson
back."

She shot him a hopeful look. "Do you
think there's a way?"

He didn't know. "There's gotta be.
We're going to try, anyway."

Holding up a hand, she said, "I know.
No promises." She lowered her arm and added, "But thank you. It
means the world to me."

"Good," he said with forced
cheerfulness. "Now, go home. I'll catch a taxi."

"I'm not leaving," she said. "I
can't."

"You're not doing anyone any good by
staying." He wished she'd go home and take a nap. At this rate, the
stress would make her sick.

"I don't want to be alone right now.
Please understand." Her dark eyes went liquid and
pleading.

Chip nodded. "I do understand. How
about we get you away from your desk? Do you have any
filing?"

"That would be good. I've got a stack
of Answers that need to go into client files." She blew an
imaginary hair off her forehead.

"Perfect. I'll check on you in a
little while." As she left his office, he worried. She didn't look
healthy.

An hour later, he popped his head into
the file room. She gazed at him from bloodshot eyes, and a greenish
gray tint surrounded her lips. He didn't say a word. In his office,
he sent a quick e-mail, forwarded his phone to voicemail, and
grabbed his briefcase. He stopped by her desk and got her
purse.

At the file room, he said, "Come on.
We're going."

Melony pushed a thick file into the
stacks. "Where? To the law library?"

She came to him, and he took her by
the elbow. "No. We're going home. I sent an e-mail to Debra saying
I need you to drive me to meet with the mechanic working on my
car."

Resisting his hold, she argued, "I
haven't finished the filing."

"Finish it tomorrow." He handed over
her purse.

"But—"

"Have you seen how you look?" Did she
have any idea the toll this day had on her?

"Why? What's wrong with me?" She
frowned, making the green hue to her skin deepen.

He stopped at the door to the ladies'
room. "Take a look. I'll wait."

With a funny pout, she went in. She
came right out. "Yeah, let's go."

In the garage, he held out his hand.
"I'm driving."

She took her keys from the purse and
pressed the unlock button on the remote. "I'm not an invalid. I'm
just having a bad day."

He shook his head. "Oh, is that what
this is?" Reaching for the keys, he said, "I'm serious."

Yanking them out of reach, she said,
"So am I. Get in." She pointed to the passenger door.

He stood studying her a minute,
weighing whether or not he wanted to take on this battle. She
looked like hell, but she sounded fine and her attitude remained
healthy in spite of today's challenges.

Conceding, he got in and set his
briefcase at his feet. "Fine. But I'm not wearing the
leash."

"Right now, I could care less." She
slipped into the driver's seat.

"What do you think about stopping by
the video store? We can pick up a couple DVDs, stretch out on the
couch, and be lazy until bedtime." When she seemed reluctant, he
added, "We'll order a pizza."

"That sounds really good." As they
pulled out of the garage, she slumped against her seat, some of the
tension leaving her features.

"Everything's going to be fine,
Melony," Chip reassured. He hoped, anyway.

* * * *

Melony took Chip's suggestion and
changed into red flannel pajamas. He was full of good suggestions
today. She brushed her hair then put it in a ponytail. It was
strange how her limbs seemed so heavy, as if she moved through
water. She wanted to sleep, but it was too early.

Near the living room, Chip draped his
tie over the shoulder of his jacket and hung it in the coat closet.
"Popcorn?" he asked.

"No, I'll just have pizza." She hoped
she had the energy to eat it. Distracted, she couldn't even
remember what movies they had rented. "What are we watching
first?"

"I'm thinking Harry Potter. What do
you think?"

She flipped open her cell phone and
hit the auto dial button for the pizza parlor. "Works for
me."

While she called in the order, he put
the DVD into the player then went to the kitchen. "Will a twenty
cover it?"

She set the phone on the end table. "I
got it," she said, moving to get up.

"Don't even think about it." The
microwave beeped and he stepped in front of her. He handed her a
steaming mug.

Cinnamon sweetness rose in the steam,
making her mouth water. "You made me tea. I didn't even know I had
any."

He smiled. "You didn't. I picked it up
when you left to get the wine." Chip kissed her forehead and she
jerked.

The only person who had ever kissed
her forehead was her mother. Tilting her face, she stared at him
and wondered what he meant by it. The gesture held a deep intimacy,
yet it gave absolutely no sexual overtones. Did it mean he didn't
desire her anymore? Had her confession last night reduced their
association to friendship? The idea depressed her.

"Hey." She set the cup on the table
next to her phone and grabbed his shirt. "Thanks for the tea," she
purred and pulled him to her level.

She didn't have to ask. He came right
to her, his lips covering hers in a kiss that removed all doubt of
his attraction. On his knees, he eased between her thighs and
covered her, pushing her to the sofa's cushioned back. His mouth
commanded her response, his tongue invading and engaging hers in a
passionate duel. It took a few minutes of his devoted attention for
her body to respond, but soon, her skin tingled and her blood
surged through her veins.

Consumed by his caresses, his mouth
devouring hers, the smell and taste of him, she lost a sense of
reality. He lifted her to a place where only touch and sensation
existed. When the doorbell rang, she broke away with a
gasp.

He stood and gazed at her. "I
should've done that at the office when you looked like Night of the
Living Dead. You look delicious, now."

Wow. Delicious? She grinned, no longer
sluggish and sleepy.

Pulling his wallet from a back pocket,
he went to the door and retrieved the pizza. "Hope you're hungry,"
he said, carrying the box over.

"As much as I adore pizza, I'd rather
have something else right now." She waggled her eyebrows at
him.

He sat at the other end of the couch
and set the box between them. "You can't believe how much it hurts
me to say this, but no. Not tonight."

She sagged with the letdown. "You
don't want me?"

He gave her an ironic smirk. "Melony,
I want you so much it hurts. Literally. But you're exhausted. I
don't think you realize it."

Turning her attention to the images of
movie flashing across the menu screen, she couldn't argue. She
wanted him, but she could wait. It helped knowing he still desired
her. Her stomach rumbled at the scent of pepperoni and warm bread.
Opening the box, she drank in the sight of dinner.

Halfway through the movie, with a full
belly and the downed tea soothing her nerves, she couldn't keep her
eyes open. She didn't care that it was only eight o'clock. She went
to bed. While shuffling to her room, she hoped she'd wake in the
middle of the night, refreshed and horny, so she could wake him and
ease his literal hurt.

The sound of breaking glass woke Chip
from a deep sleep. Swinging his legs off the bed, he blinked a few
times to get his eyes to focus in the dark. Melony probably broke a
vase or a lamp, but he needed to check to make sure she didn't get
cut.

As he headed toward the hall, he
checked the clock. Twelve-thirty. What was she doing awake in the
middle of the night? With a small smile, he wondered if she'd slept
enough to feel up to some midnight fun, especially since she'd
wanted to earlier.

Before he reached the hallway's end,
scuffling sounded behind her door followed by a low, male growl and
a muffled squeal. He stopped in mid-stride, instantly awake. His
mind whirred into activity. He considered attempting to break down
her door. He suspected he would fail, however, suspecting the cops
who did it on television only succeeded through bullshit
theatrics.

He raced to the living room and
grabbed her cell phone from the end table. He hopped with one foot
as he pulled on the gray sweat pants from the night before last.
Making his way to the coat closet, he dialed nine-one-one. He slid
his feet into leather loafers. A loud thump against her bedroom
wall had him out the front door before the emergency operator
answered. He had to get into her room.

He gave the woman on the line all the
information while running out the building exit and around the
outer wall of the apartment. She told him to stay on the line, but
he had to get to Melony. Closing the phone, he shoved it in his
pocket and eased toward her window.

Glass lay in splinters and shards
across the sill and in the grass. Light spilling through the gaping
pane showed a streak of blood on the metal window frame. His
drumming heart leapt to his throat. Inside, an evil chuckle made
his skin crawl. Chip went closer.

Melony lay on a huge, black cherry,
four-poster bed, her eyes wide with terror and one wrist bound with
thin, white cord to the thick post of her headboard. Struggling,
she tried to prevent a tall, skinny man from capturing the other
arm. The blond man, dressed all in black, chuckled once
more.

Chip recognized him from the trial
video. Keith Bethson climbed on top of her and grasped her flailing
hand. "We're going to finish what we started, Melony, dear," he
crooned.

She shot daggers at him with her eyes
and shook her head. Duct tape across her mouth reflected light from
a nearby lamp.

Chip brushed aside the broken glass
from the sill and heaved through the window. "Get off of
her!"

The man spun from the bed and flew at
the window. Tucking his head, Chip thrust forward and rammed his
shoulder into the attacker's middle. He used his momentum to propel
Keith across the room.

Melony screamed behind her gag, and
Chip glanced over his shoulder. A knife arced toward his back.
Extending his arm, he caught the criminal's wrist and prevented a
stab. Sirens approached and red flashing lights reflected off the
window frame.

"Your gun!" Chip fought to hold the
man while avoiding the blade. "Where's your gun?"

Keith broke free. Grunting, he reared
back and brought the knife down again. Chip ducked and dug his
heels into the carpet, shoving the attacker against a dresser.
Someone pounded on the apartment door.

Then a bang reverberated.

His ears ringing, Chip released the
criminal. A round wound in the man's forehead trickled blood. On
the bed, Melony gripped a pistol with her one hand, her chest
heaving and her nostrils flaring. In the distance, men shouted and
car doors slammed. Chip took a step back, expecting the attacker to
drop. He didn't.

Keith growled. With a fierce scowl, he
launched toward the bed. Chip dove for his feet but
missed.

Another shot rang out. Then
another.

Keith stopped short as if he had hit a
wall, and slumped to the floor.

"Drop the gun! Now!"

Chip jumped to his feet. A police
officer stood at the window, a gun trained at the bed. "I called
for help," he said. "She fired in self-defense."