Little Belle Gone (25 page)

“Elizabeth, you’re...you look amazing...” His voice was weak and breathy, as if it was all he could do to form the words. Glancing at him over her shoulder, she smiled slyly, loving the way he seemed so off balance he might fall at any moment. Taking several ragged strides in her direction, he drew up beside her, so close that she could feel his chest heaving against her arm with irregular, labored gasps. “I think maybe I would rather stay in now.” His voice was dripping with want and desire, and she could feel his eyes moving over her as if she was a priceless work of art. She mused that, to him, she might be. She did not doubt for a moment that he loved her, but she wanted more than anything to go out, to experience the life she had avoided for so many years.

“Matt, I want to go out. It’s my first date, remember?” She gave him a little pout and was gratified to hear him whimper. It was beyond exciting to think that she had so much power over him.

“How can I take you out like this? Every man in New York will try to take you from me, and I can’t stand to think of losing you.” His mouth was very close to her ear now, and she could feel his hands moving over her back in a effort to distract her into staying with him. But she was determined.

“We’re going out to dinner, not a livestock market. Besides, they can try all they like, I’m not going anywhere.” Her hand was already on the knob, and as she wrenched it open and swayed seductively into the hallway, Matt quickly joined her, taking her hand. He didn’t let her go. Not in the elevator, not in the car, and not as they crossed the street from the valet station to the front door of
Le Chailise
. “Matt! This is where we are having dinner?” She swallowed hard. While she had been hoping for something romantic and memorable, the best, most exclusive, not to mention expensive, restaurant in Manhattan was not what she had expected.

As they stepped into the entry, she tried not to make a fool of herself. The art on the walls, and the exquisite nature of the gowns and suits worn by the other patrons, made her feel exceedingly self conscious, but perhaps Matt had been right. She could feel the eyes moving over her from every passing guest. She wasn’t sure if she should feel embarrassed or exhilarated. Judging by the tightening, possessive grip that her partner had on her, perhaps the latter was more appropriate. When they reached the Maitre D`, Matt pulled her close to him and smiled at the bald, and rather snobbish looking, little man behind the podium. At first, he looked as if he was going to ignore them, but, in a cold, condescending tone, he snidely asked, “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, Barrow, table for two.” Much to Elizabeth’s surprise, the snobbish man’s entire attitude changed instantly. At once, he became warm and friendly, as if they were old friends he hadn’t seen in some time.

“Ah, yes! Mr. Barrow! We have our most private, romantic, table for you and your lovely companion. We are always happy to see you and, if I may, it’s been far too long.” Snapping his sausage fingers a few times briskly in the air, they were immediately joined by a well dressed waiter ready and prepared to lead them to this “perfect” table. She passed between the candlelit tables where couples, young and old, dressed to the nines, were seated, eating everything from salad to lobster, and all seeming perfectly willing to stop eating and stare at them as they wafted by. The table, when they were finally there, was exactly what the bald host had claimed. Tucked into the corner, it was private, dimly lit, and shielded from view by sheer curtains pulled back slightly on elegant curtain hooks. Matt held her chair out for her before taking his place. She listened, intently, as he ordered them a bottle of wine and an appetizer. When the waiter had left, she smiled at him.

“So, either you made this reservation three months ago for another woman and I just got lucky, or you have something to tell me, mister ‘I didn’t know you came from money’.” She gave him a sly smile as she slid her hand into his on the table. He flushed, causing heat to radiate through her to the point that she squirmed in her seat, something he did not miss, judging by his wicked grin.

“Guilty. I only started seeing you because this reservation meant so much to me...” She playfully hit him in the shoulder and he laughed, encasing her hand in both of his, they stared at each other for a second in silence. With a deep sigh he started, “Let’s just say, I don’t hurt for social standing, and neither does my family.” She could tell from the waiver in his voice that he was uncomfortable talking abut it, but she wanted more.

“So, you’re one of
those
Barrows, Manhattan royalty. You hide it very well. Tell me, was your family just as dismayed when you joined the academy as mine?” He laughed out loud now, and she loved it. His voice, his laugh, was like music. They had spent all day focused on such horrid, tragic things that this moment of romance and privacy seemed surreal and intoxicating.

“Yes, I am one of
those
Barrows, but I hope that doesn’t change anything for you. They were, and are, very upset at me, but they are getting over it. The only reason I teased you about coming from money is that my mother always wanted me to find a girl of ‘proper blood’ and, despite picking a woman who hated men, despised me, and could kick my ass if she wanted, I managed to do exactly that. It was more thrilling than you can imagine to find another blue blood wearing a blue collar for the same reasons as I do. Just one more link.” The waiter returned with the wine and set about a very practiced dance with Matthew of cork sniffing and tasting, which he navigated beautifully. When they had finished and the waiter asked if they were ready to order, Elizabeth made a gesture for Matt to order for her, which he did, in French no less. She sipped the fruity wine he had selected, trying to decide what wicked thing she was going to do first when they made it back to the apartment to say thank you for what was already the best date she had ever imagined, much less had.

When the waiter was gone, she slid her fingers between his and purred, “Link in what?” His face drew almost near enough for her to kiss him, and she wanted to terribly, but she didn’t dare, not here.

“The chain you have around my heart, Liz.” She gasped as he kissed her, gently at first, but, as she kissed back, it deepened. He reluctantly pulled back far enough to look her in the eye, still cradling the side of her face. His hand held her so gently that she felt compelled to turn into it and kiss his palm. She could feel the eyes on her, half a restaurant full of people taking in the scene they were making with rapt attention, but she didn’t care. His eyes moved over her with unhidden affection and she wished she had let him keep her in the apartment. “Liz, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Mm, and I have something I would love to talk to you about, but here isn’t the place for my conversation.” She couldn’t help but run her tongue lightly over the curve of his thumb just to hear him whimpered. She knew she was being wicked, but she didn’t much care.

“Elizabeth, behave yourself, at least for a little while longer, we haven’t even gotten our food yet.” She smiled at him, then slowly sat up straight. “Good, now, what I wanted to talk to you about is your apartment.” She sighed a little, she had been hoping to avoid work tonight.

Matt could see the disappointment wash over her face. She looked so beautiful tonight, it crushed his heart to see that look. He knew what she was thinking, so he tried to put her mind at ease. “It’s not about the case, not exactly, I was just wondering what you planned to do about it? I mean, I can’t imagine you will want to stay there any longer. Besides which, as your lover,” His mouth curled over the word with such rich pleasure, he shivered slightly, “I will have to insist that you don’t. What do you want to do?” He was trying to stay calm, but he wanted so desperately to just blurt it out. He watched her face as she thought for a moment about his question, burying the fear swirling in his belly.

“Honestly I don’t know. You’re right, I can’t stay there anymore, but the idea of looking for a new apartment scares me. I don’t know if I will ever feel safe again.” Her voice trailed off in sadness. He watched as she took a sip of wine, hoping she would be open to what he was about to say, because if she wasn’t, he might just be lost.

“Do you feel safe with me? In my place?” She seemed a little caught off guard by the question. Smiling sweetly, she touched his hand, setting his nerves on edge and his heart racing.

“Matt, the
only
place I feel safe anymore is with you.” Now was his moment. His pulse was pounding in his ears and his palms were sweating. Clearing the tightness in his throat, he stared at her, but the clear emerald of her eyes and the plump curve of her lips, found the lump returning.

“Then maybe, you don’t need another apartment. Maybe...you could...I mean, would you move in with me?” The lump grew as her face went blank for a moment and he felt his heart beginning to slip into his stomach. He was falling, lost to hopelessness, until he saw the smile spread suddenly across her face. As it flourished, full and bright, he moved from hopeless to ecstatic. She didn’t need to answer for him to know. He nearly leapt from his chair in excitement. He reached for her, snagging her hands and dragging her closer to him than the public setting should have afforded.

She bent into him, drawing her lips just shy of his, so that they brushed over each other with each breath. “Are you sure this is what you want, Matt? I mean we have only known each other a couple of weeks.” Her question seemed ridiculous to him. If he had the nerve just yet, he would have asked her to marry him, living together felt like such a small thing compared to what he really wanted. He nodded, brushing his lips across hers gently, desire burning him up waiting for her answer. “In that case, yes, Matt. Of course, my answer is yes.” He could barely breath as she kissed him. In that moment he was done, ready to rush from the restaurant, back to
their
apartment and celebrate, several times over. As if she knew what he was thinking, she broke their kiss slowly, but he didn’t want to let her go. His grip on her tightened, pulling her coaxingly back against him. “I intend to eat dinner here Matthew, now
you
behave. We’ll go home soon enough.” He whined a little against her cheek, nuzzling her until the sound of the waiter returning forced him to release her.

The air around them buzzed with electricity, but they did their best to reign in their desire. As they sat eating and talking, his left hand found its way to her thigh, and lingered there, possessively. Their conversation hovered around the necessities of Elizabeth’s move, the rest of her things from the old apartment, a desk for her next to his, a makeover for the living room to make it as comfortable as his bedroom, and what needed to be done to ensure that Bucky could stay, like a pet deposit. Matt was simply too happy to breath as she made suggestions for wall colors and leather tones. He couldn’t care less what she did to their apartment, so long as it stayed
theirs
. When the waiter returned yet again to clear away the plates, it was Elizabeth who ordered coffee and dessert. She smiled at him wantonly, urging the hand on her thigh a bit higher and he had to look away to hide the heat that it brought to his face. She wanted the fairy tale date and he was hell bent to give it to her, but he was dying inside to hold her. Feeling the call of nature, and desperately needing to adjust himself, yet again, he made his excuse and reluctantly got up from the table, heading for the restrooms.

Elizabeth watched Matt disappear through the crowd of tables, several curious faces following his journey and then turning to her, knowing smiles and shy grins hovering across them. She was simply too blissfully content to care what they thought of her. As she sat waiting for Matt to return, she saw someone stand on the far side of the restaurant that she did not expect to see, and it turned her blood cold. There, rising to leave, along with several very important people, was Captain Moreano.

She felt exposed, like a raw nerve, cringing with the vile anticipation of being plucked. Matt had told her about the little talk, and his lie, in front of the elevator and she had agreed that Moreano would not understand their relationship. Now, trapped in the far corner, she wanted nothing more than to be invisible, to shrink under the table until he was gone. As if he could hear her thoughts, Moreano and his dinner companions turned in her direction from their table to leave. Before she could manage to hide her face, the Captain looked over, his eyes finding and locking onto her with unshaken tightness. Elizabeth’s mind raced with the thought of the lies she would need to tell in order to get out of this situation without revealing the truth, not just yet. She only prayed, as she watched the large man maneuver his way to her through the tables, that Matt would see him before he was noticed and stay out of sight.

“Detective Cord, Elizabeth, what are you doing here?” She could feel his eyes moving over her as she sat across the table. “You look lovely, by the way.” The compliment felt wrong, bitter in her ears. His words were cold and cruel, and everything about his posture put her on edge.

Trying as hard as she could to stay light and friendly, though she didn’t feel that way at all, she replied, “Captain! Thank you. I’m just out with a friend. I thought perhaps a night out would help relieve the stress of the past few days.” She was trying to put as much truth into her response as she could manage without out right lying, or telling him the sweet truth about Matt. For a moment it looked as if he might just nod and leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he spoke again.

“Yes, finding out someone has been watching you sleep can make you rather desperate for comfort. I know it would leave me devastated.” Again, the strange cruelty in his voice surfaced and she fought the scowl that sprang up in her heart. She wanted him to leave, to bid her goodnight, and the sooner the better. He was about to speak again when the waiter returned with their dessert and coffee. He did not even acknowledge Moreano as he set the plates and cups down on the table with impeccable precision. Moreano, obviously put out by the waiter’s snub, turned as if he was going to leave, nodding to Elizabeth, and running head long into Matthew.