Blood Stains (28 page)

“It’s going to be all right. I promise you,” he said softly.

She pulled the fake cap of bandages off her head, then reached for his hand.

“I’m scared, Bodie.”

“Lie down, baby,” he said, then pulled the blanket up over her legs before he leaned down and kissed her square on the lips.

“Trust me?”

She’d spent a lot of time watching this man in action over the past few days. One thing she’d learned was that he was a man of his word.

“Yes.”

“Ready to go home?”

They’d already crossed that bridge a couple of days ago, when he’d informed her that he was taking her to his house, that she was no longer safe on her own.

“Yes.”

Sam poked his head in the door.

“What can I do? You need anything else?”

Maria smiled. “You’re taking care of it, Sam, just by helping me get home.”

Sam nodded sternly, but he wanted to grin.

“Bodie…you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Just give me a minute to get to my car. You know the address. Head for my house. I’ll be behind you to make sure we aren’t followed.”

“Got it,” Sam said, and lumbered back through the motor home to the front seat.

Bodie looked down at Maria. There were so many things he wanted to say, but there would be time for that later.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promised.

“I know. I’m okay,” she said.

Bodie winked, then quickly made his exit.

Sam shut and locked the door as he watched the lanky cop lope across the parking lot. As soon as Bodie got in his car, he called back to Maria, “We’re leaving now. Don’t worry, sugar baby. Uncle Sammy will take good care of you.”

Maria sighed, then closed her eyes. Sugar baby. He’d always called her by that pet name. The fact that she remembered now was such a gift.

The old motor home began to move, slightly rocking the bed on which Maria was lying, but she didn’t care. It felt a little bit like being rocked to sleep, which seemed like a good idea. So she pulled up the covers and closed her eyes.

By the time darkness fell on Bodie Scott’s house, Sam’s motor home was parked at the back of the property and hooked up to an outside electric pole. Bodie had invited Sam to sleep inside, but Sam had turned him down.

“I’ve slept in this old bus plenty of times before. It suits me. Besides, it’ll give us an edge. I’ll have eyes on the outside of your house while you’re inside with Mary. If I see something fishy, I’ll call your cell.”

As far as Bodie knew, Maria was still asleep in her bed in the back of the house. He was in the kitchen, cleaning up from their dinner. The television was playing in the living room. He could hear bits and pieces of whatever was on but was more tuned in to the night sounds of his house.

He was pretty sure their plan to sneak Maria from the hospital without being seen had been successful, but he wasn’t at the point of being willing to bet her life.

His parents had been planning on coming up this weekend and taking him out to dinner, but he’d put them off with a promise to reschedule later, claiming work-related duties that couldn’t be avoided.

He would have loved to have them meet Maria—and for Maria to meet them. But not now. He took no chances when it came to involving his family in his work, and until this case was over, Maria was off-limits to everyone but him.

He was putting the last pan in the dishwasher when he heard a noise behind him and turned around.

Maria was standing in the doorway, pale but upright, which was a truly amazing sight.

“Baby! Did you call? I’m so sorry. I was running the water and didn’t hear you. What do you need?”

“I didn’t call. I don’t need anything. I just felt like moving around a little, and I wanted to see you.”

“So here I am,” he said, and pulled her gently into his embrace. “God…you feel so good in my arms. There was a time when I was afraid I’d never hold you again.”

Maria wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into his chest.

“Who knew all this would happen? I’ve been in Tulsa nearly two weeks now and spent seven…”

“Eight,” Bodie corrected.

“…eight days of that time in a hospital. I just want to feel normal again.”

He laid his cheek against her head, taking care not to get close to the healing cuts, and closed his eyes.

“You feel pretty normal to me,” he said.

She laughed softly. “I can’t believe you’re still making passes at me. I look like a used target on turkey-shoot day.”

Bodie pulled back with a grin. “You do not.” Then he frowned. “Have you ever been to a turkey-shoot?”

“I
won
a turkey-shoot.”

His grin widened. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. About five years ago. I think I was all of nineteen. Horrified Bud. It was the one and only time I outshot him, but he’s never lived it down.”

Bodie laughed. “Like I said before…my folks are going to love you.”

Maria tugged at his hand. “Come sit down in the living room with me. Tell me about them. I might actually want to meet them one of these days.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can keep telling yourself this isn’t serious, but you and I both know you’d be lying. I’m serious as a heart attack, Maria. I want you, woman. In my life. For the rest of my life.”

Maria’s heart jumped. That was a pretty serious vow for the short time they’d known each other, but she was in total agreement. He just didn’t know it.

He led the way into the living room, then settled onto the sofa beside her. When he turned to face her, he reached for her hands.

“Here’s the deal, love. Are you much of a gambler?”

Maria frowned. “As in cards and money?”

“Not particularly. I mean as in…taking chances when you feel like something is right. Like maybe with your horses.”

“Oh. Yes, I guess I am. There have been horses that everyone told me couldn’t be trained, but something in me knew that wasn’t true. Between the two of us, we would always prove them wrong.”

“Yeah. Like that. Gut instinct. Well, that’s how I feel about you. Doesn’t matter how long we’ve known each other. I just know we’re a pair. I’ll willingly wait as long as it takes for you to get into that mind-set, but I’m not willing to let you go.”

“We’ve never even made out…let alone made love,” Maria said.

He pretended a huge, heartfelt sigh. “If it hadn’t been for that damned bomber, that situation would already have been rectified.” Then he wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

He was crazy, which she loved. But to be fair, there was something he needed to know. She rubbed her thumbs across his knuckles, then looked him straight in the eyes.

“I’ve dreamed about making love with you.”

His eyes widened. “Was I good?”

She laughed. “Mind-blowing.”

He shuddered. “Lord, woman. Don’t put any more thoughts into my head than what I’m already dealing with.”

“X-rated?” she asked.

“No way. What kind of a man do you think I am?” he said, then leaned forward. “Triple-X…at least.”

Their foreheads touched.

She felt the heat from his body. There was an energy between them that was almost audible—like a low, urgent hum. She knew that making love with this man would be, at the least, explosive.

“Just get well, then you watch out,” he whispered.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?”

He grunted, as if he’d just been punched, then drew back and stared into her eyes.

“I will lie with you. I will hold you. But tonight…nothing more.”

She sighed. “How about tomorrow night?”

“Damn, woman. Are you trying to kill me here? I’m doing my best to be sensible. You just got out of the hospital.”

Her voice trembled. “And I’m doing my best to remember what living is about.”

He lifted a lock of her hair away from her forehead, then ran his finger down the side of her face to her lips. Now he understood.

“Because you came too close to dying, didn’t you, baby?”

“I
know
I’m alive. But I want to
feel
it, too.”

“I can make that happen,” he said.

And just like that, he stood up, scooped her into his arms and carried her back to his bed, set her on the side of the mattress, then began taking off her clothes.

Maria’s heart started to race, but when she was naked and he still hadn’t removed anything but his shoes, she caught his hand.

“You next.”

“No. Tonight is just for you.”

Nineteen

M
aria slowly eased herself back onto the mattress, then resisted the urge to pull up the sheets.

Bodie saw her reticence and stopped.

“If this feels wrong, I’ll stop right now.”

“No.” She pulled him down beside her. “I just wish we’d done this before, when my body was all in one piece and one color.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly, and kissed the hollow at the base of her throat, feeling the pulse of lifeblood beneath his lips.

“You’re alive.” He kissed the bruise on her shoulder, then the one above her right breast.

“You take my breath.” His lips moved across her stomach, kissing every cut and every bruise that he saw.

“You stole my heart. Let me love you, Maria mine.”

She shivered, but pulled him to her, giving him the access for which he asked.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered, then swept his hand downward across her face.

She did as he requested, leaving herself blind and defenseless.

His breath was warm on her skin, but his kisses were scorching. By the time he got to her belly button, she was trembling.

Then he rose up on one elbow and looked down at her.

“Did I miss a place?” he asked.

She put a hand to her mouth.

He swooped.

Maria moaned, then cupped the back of his head with one hand and his shoulder with the other. She wanted him closer—deeper—forever. A coil of need was building in her belly as he parted her legs and found the nub between that was the beginning and end of detonation.

Maria’s body arched against the pressure, which he obligingly increased. She moaned beneath her breath, as his fingers parted her feminine folds, then circled and stroked, circled and stroked, the tiny nub until it was hot and pulsing. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think to give back. There was no time for anything but remembering to draw her next breath. Then she blanked out to everything but the feeling.

Minute after earth-shattering minute, he took her up, then eased her down, bringing her to the brink of a climax so many times that her whole body was one solid ache.

“Bodie…Bodie…please,” she whispered.

His answer was another kiss, taking the words right off her lips, and an increase in the pressure between her legs.

A sheen of sweat glistened on her skin. She was on fire from the inside out, and still she wanted more and more.

Ah, God. Let this feeling last forever.

And just when she thought it might, she shattered.

Abruptly.

Completely.

With a small, choking scream and the sensation that she was flying, she rode the bone-shattering spill all the way to the top and then, in a free fall, all the way down.

Bodie was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. The need to be inside her was next to maddening. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight.

“Good, baby?” he asked softly.

“Yes…oh, my God…yes.”

He nuzzled the side of her neck, right below her ear.

“Tell me how you feel.”

“Alive. I feel alive.”

Officer Nora Watts had shed the dark wig and the bandages hours ago, and was hanging out in her sweats behind closed curtains. This stakeout in Maria Slade’s hotel room was a good gig and a welcome break from her normal job riding shotgun with her partner on Tulsa’s south side.

She’d ordered steak and a baked potato, compliments of the Tulsa P.D., and while a nice glass of wine would have been good to go with it, she was still on duty. A big glass of sweet tea had been a suitable substitute.

When she heard thunder rumble overhead and then the sound of rain blowing against the windows, she hunkered down into the bed, thankful she wasn’t out on patrol on a night like this. Satisfied and sleepy, she was thinking about turning off the TV and trying to sleep when someone knocked at the door.

She thought about alerting the cop on stakeout in the room next door, then changed her mind, grabbed the remote and hit Mute, reached for her gun, then quietly moved to the door on bare feet.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

“Bellman. You have a message from someone in Montana. Shall I slip it under the door?”

“Just a minute,” she said.

The woman she was impersonating was from Montana. Nothing seemed out of order. Her gun was in her hand, her finger on the trigger, as she stretched to look through the peephole.

Franklin’s eyes were focused on the tiny hole in the door. From out in the hall, he could see nothing but a tiny hint of light. The moment the light was blocked, he knew right where Maria Slade was standing.

Confident that his shot would not be heard, he put the gun with the silencer up to the peephole and pulled the trigger.

At the same time he fired, a shot came from inside the room—a bullet shot through the door, slicing Franklin’s side and then the wall behind him.

The shock of what had just happened was enough to stifle his scream of pain. But the sound of gunfire exploded in the hallway, which was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to happen. Blood was already dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet as he bolted toward the elevator he’d wedged open. He pulled out the length of pipe he’d shoved in the door and punched L for Lobby, ripping off his undershirt as he rode and shoving it against the wound in his side. He could tell by feel that the bullet had only grazed him, but he was bleeding profusely.

His heart was racing as the car neared the lobby. He couldn’t exit the elevator dripping blood, even if he was wearing a raincoat. Horrified that he was leaving his DNA all over the place, he came up with a quick change of plans as he rode. He stopped the car on the second floor, got out on the run and headed for the stairwell. By the time he reached the ground floor, he was shaking, but made himself walk in a calm, ordinary manner as he exited into a side hall, then left the hotel.