Killer Kisses (9 page)

“Methinks the lady protests too much!” Claire stepped closer to her friend. “You’re blushing! I do believe Sammy Boy got through your intellectual armor!”

Levisa put her hands up. “Stop! I have my work to think of—that’s all. He agreed to be in my study in exchange for free sessions.” Those beautiful eyes! Every time she thought of them, those butterflies spelled out much more interesting things…

“Do you really think you can help him sound like an executive job candidate in four months?”

A shadow of doubt crossed Levisa’s mind, and her stomach plummeted. Could she do it? Or was she being arrogant?

“I bet a ‘Day of Beauty’ at Spa Du Jour that you can’t do it,” Claire challenged.

Levisa stood up and straightened her shoulders. “You’re on.”

~*~

“I know the National Anthem, Hon,” Sam protested, after the first month of sessions with Levisa.

She smiled. “Yes, but do you know how to say it without Bawlamerese?”

He began to sing. “Ao say can yew see by don’s early late…”

“Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light?”

“That’s what I said!” Sam glared at her.

“Okay, let’s try this: Oh, oh, oh!”

“Ao, ao, ao!”

Levisa held her head in her hand, her temple throbbing. What was I thinking? I’ll never get him ready in time.

He touched the back of her hand, setting off tremors in her legs, in spite of the fact that she was sitting down. “Are yew okay, Hon?”

She looked up, fell into his eyes, and her headache receded. I am so much better than okay. She smiled. “I’m fine. Let’s try again.”

~*~

I brought yew some chocolates.” Sam held out a heart-shaped satin box, looking like a little boy bringing his teacher a gift.

Levisa stared at the gift, surprised and pleased at his thoughtfulness, her breathing unnervingly uneven, her heart doing a cha-cha. “Why?”

He looked puzzled. “Didn’t yew look at the date?”

She glanced at the calendar. “February—oh!” How had she forgotten, with all the cupids and hearts in the waiting room!

An amused look crossed his face. “Balentine’s Day.”

“Valentine’s Day.”

“Just what I said.” Sam smiled.

“Just what yew—you—said.” Levisa smiled back, feeling flushed and lightheaded. “Thanks, Sam. I think I need a piece of chocolate, right now.”

~*~

“Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave, over the land of the free and the home of the brave! Play ball!”

“Excellent! ‘I do believe you’ve got it!’ to quote Henry Higgins.” Levisa nearly crowed with delight. Sam was a quick study and had an excellent ear. She was going to win her bet with Claire, she just knew it. “How about the next one?”

“I’m going to Bel Air to the library.”

“Fantastic! Next one?” She decided he was her best student ever, but maybe she was just a teeny bit biased.

He strutted around the little room, threw his chest back, and roared out the words, “Don’t open the window, it’s too humid.”

Levisa clapped her hands and cheered. “Keep going, you’re doing great!”

He stopped, turned and stepped close to her. “Do you know what day it is, Hon?”

Confused, she looked down at her clipboard. “That’s not on our list, but good try. Don’t say ‘Hon’.”

“Do you know what day it is?”

Levisa glanced up from her notes. “You’re asking me a question?”

He sighed. “Yes, I’m asking yew—you—a question.”

She checked her watch. “April first.”

“It’s a week before my big interview with Ernst and Young.” Sam reached for her hand and took it gently into his large warm one. “Will you go out to dinner with me? I’d like to thank you for all your hard work.”

She stared at his fingers, wrapped so softly around hers. A thrill of electricity raced up her arm to her neck and she could feel herself blushing. She flashed onto Chip at the coffee shop and mentally compared his rough touch to Sam’s. She hadn’t seen the preppy, thank God, for months.

His touch made her feel wired, as if she would jump out of her skin. “Yes! I’d like that.” Like it? I’d love it. She restrained herself from jumping up and hugging him. Slooow down, girl. Put a lid on your id, Levisa!

“Good.” A look of relief was followed by a big grin. “Ah’ll—I’ll meet you at seven? Is the Rusty Bucket okay?”

“Perfect.” After she closed the door behind him, she let loose with an unbridled happy dance, complete with arm waving.

That evening, as Levisa locked the clinic door, she worried about Claire. Ever since Levisa’s fall and subsequent beginning of work with Sam, Claire had been distant and aloof toward her. Today, the blonde had spritzed herself with too much perfume, and then run out the door saying she was meeting someone for lunch. She hadn’t returned and didn’t answer her cell phone. Sometimes, she could be such a flake. Luckily, the threat of a snow squall had caused several patients to cancel their appointments, or Levisa and her coworkers would’ve never finished today.

Loud music and laughter poured out of the Bucket as Levisa pulled into the parking lot. Jeez. What a zoo. Couples lined the entryway, waiting for tables and swigging bottled beer. She gave her name to the hostess, took a lighted pager, and joined the line. She couldn’t believe she was actually going out on a date with Sam. All these months of one-on-one sessions in close quarters with electrifying looks and tentative touches, and now here she was waiting for the man of her daydreams. She checked her watch and cell phone, looked up and down the line, and wondered where Sam was. What on earth is going on?

“Levisa?” A man called to her, barely audible over the background noise of bar televisions and couples’ chatter.

She turned, hoping Sam would be waving to her from the door, but instead it was Chip. She felt her smile freeze in place. Ugh. Of all the people she did
not
want to see.

He pushed his way through the throng until he stood in front of her. “Sam sent me to tell you he changed his mind.”

“What?” Was he standing her up?

The preppy made a sad face, a messenger with bad news. “Yeah, he realized he’d made a mistake asking you out. I guess I’m your consolation prize.”

Booby prize is more like it. How could he do this to me? And send Chip? Of all people! Furious, she thrust the pager into his hand. “Here, you won’t have long to wait.” As Levisa turned on her heel and headed for the exit, the crowd moved back to allow her to pass, and tisks of pity followed her.

When she reached the dark parking lot, tears blurred her vision, and she leaned her head on the side of her car.

“Hey, don’t cry, darling.” Chip grabbed her arm, whirled her around, and pressed her back against the car. “I’m here to show you a good time.”

He shoved his hand between the lapels of her coat, pawed at her breasts, and planted a beery kiss on her lips. She struggled to get away from his groping fingers.

“You are so hot! I love a girl who fights back!”

“Get off me! Stop it!”

She looked over Chip’s shoulder and saw Sam on the sidewalk, peering into The Rusty Bucket.

“Sam? Help!” Her voice didn’t carry over the booming music. Sam headed into the restaurant.

“You frigging cock tease! You’re just like that bitch Claire.”

Fear jolted Levisa into action. She kneed him in the groin. When he yelped and grabbed his crotch, she kicked him in the shin—then ran like hell for the restaurant and Sam.

The police responded to Levisa’s call in three minutes, but Chip was long gone. Holding Sam’s hand, she gave Chip’s description between sobs and gulps.

“He lives in my building, one floor up,” Sam said. “I ran into him at the convenience store on the corner when I stopped on my way home to pick up some…” He paused and blushed. “He slapped me on the back, said, ‘Way to go!’ and took off without buying anything. When I left the apartment to meet you, my car had a flat and my cell phone was missing. He must have picked it out of my holster in the store. I spent the last hour trying to get my tire fixed, and I had no way to reach you.”

“Claire had a lunch date with someone—and never came back to the clinic.” Panic-stricken, her voice rose. “Tonight, he said I was a bitch—just like Claire. We’ve got to find her!”

Sam reached out and stroked her cheek with trembling fingers, his warm touch soothing her jangled nerves. “We will, I promise.” He looked up at the police officers. “The apartment complex has a gym, but it’s not used much. Chip calls it his private play room.”

Levisa put her head on Sam’s shoulder and broke into tears. As the squad cars peeled out of the parking lot with their lights going, she prayed they weren’t too late.

~*~

Levisa stood at the side of Claire’s hospital bed, grateful that her friend was still alive, knowing full well that she herself could have been Chip’s next victim. She leaned into Sam and squeezed his hand. He pulled her close, his arm around her waist. She felt as if she’d known him all her life, not just four short months.

“The police have him in custody,” Sam said. “You’re safe now.”

“Aren’t I just the great judge of character?” Claire tried to smile through her swollen lips, but winced in pain. She had two black eyes but, amazingly, no broken bones. Speckles of dark-brown blood stood out on her champagne-blonde hair, telltale signs of her abuse.

Levisa didn’t know what to say. She had told Claire she thought Chip was a creep. She reached for Claire’s hand—the one that wasn’t bandaged—and squeezed it.

“I wanted someone who would adore me.” She shifted in the bed and groaned. “Dumb, dumb, dumb. I should have listened to you.” Tears shimmered in Claire’s blue eyes and Levisa handed her a tissue. “After I pretended to pass out, he was really pissed. He wanted me to fight back. He said he was going to find another playmate—you. I put you at risk.”

“No! Don’t say that. Your quick thinking probably saved your life.”

“I’m positive Chip sliced my tire.” Sam shook his head. “I never saw this coming. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I was a fool.” Tears welled up in Claire’s eyes. “Go home, you two. Get some rest. I’ll be okay—now that I’m here and he’s in jail.”

In the elevator, as Levisa reached to press the button for the ground floor, Sam turned her around and pulled her close to him. The sound of his heart thumped in her ear as she pressed her face into his chest.

“This will sound selfish—but I’m so glad he didn’t hurt you.” His voice hitched. “I would never have forgiven myself.”

She tilted her head up to speak and his soft mouth was on hers, taking her breath away. Lips parted, she responded with equal ardor, tasting him, dizzy with wanting him, and forgetting her vow not to allow romance to get in the way of her work.

“Sorry—”

“I’m not,” she said. “Kiss me again, and don’t stop until morning.” She held him tighter, closed her eyes, and for the first time in her life, felt herself relax into the free fall of her emotions. As his tongue explored her mouth, she arched her back and felt overheated—then as if from far away, she heard a soft whooshing sound. The elevator doors? Eyes open, she jumped away from Sam, and turned around to see a little old lady standing in the entryway.

“Well, well, well!” She smiled, and then joined them in the elevator. “You two should get a room!”

Levisa and Sam looked at each other and giggled. His face looked as flushed as hers felt. He grabbed her hand and nodded vehemently. “Yes, ma’am. You’re absolutely right.”

~*~

Levisa opened her apartment door. “Come in. I’ll make us a snack. We never did get dinner.”

“Mrrp? Mrrowp?” A large black-and-white cat with a half-black, half-white mustache demanded her attention.

“Oh, so sorry, Colonel Pickering.” She threw her coat on the back of a flowered sofa and picked up the purring cat. “Your dinner first, then ours.”

Jacket off, Sam stood in the middle of the small living room, slowly turning in a circle, staring at the posters. “So, how long have you been obsessed with Audrey Hepburn?”

Levisa laughed. “Not just her—the most amazing story of all time—My Fair Lady.”

“And that’s how you became interested in studying speech?”

She straightened up from placing a can of food in the Colonel’s dish. “Well, that started in high school when I read George Bernard Shaw’s play, Pygmalion. The movie sealed the deal.”

Sam nodded, looked thoughtful and said, “The only thing I ever really liked in school was arithmetic. I’ve always been good at it. Surprised the heck out of everyone, especially my teachers. They thought I’d just be another loser.”

“You? Never. You’re one of the hardest-working students I’ve ever had.” His eyes snagged hers, and she felt her stomach begin to drop—but now the sensation rivaled what she had felt on her one terrifying ride on Space Mountain.