Out of Time (20 page)

Elizabeth ducked her head in embarrassment. Was it possible she didn’t know how attractive she was? Touching her cheek, he urged her to lift her eyes. If she doubted before, she never would again. As long as he had breath in his body, she would know how lovely she was. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her skin blushed a bright red that rose from her cheeks and traveled deliciously down her chest. His eyes followed the path in a loving touch.

She was perfection.

Elizabeth took hold of one of his hands. Slowly, she urged him back toward the bed, undressing as she walked. She slipped off her shoes before she lay down, and reached out silently asking him to join her. He knew in that moment, he’d follow her anywhere, and without question to the heaven she offered.

Simon undressed quickly and stretched his body out next to hers, the first unfettered touch lost in the smoky haze of her eye.

The words came out as naturally as their bodies fit together.

“I love you,” he whispered and then took her mouth in a tender kiss.

After they made love, she looked up at him, eyes still blurry from passion. How many times he’d dreamt of that look, of being the man that brought her to it. She lifted a weak hand and ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

“I love you, Simon,” she said, still breathless.

He kissed her tenderly, humbled by her words. He was sure he wasn’t worthy, but he’d spend the rest of his life trying to be.

Gently, he moved to the side and pulled her into his arms. She rested her hand above his heart. Such a small hand held everything he was.

The bright hues of dawn’s first light filtered through the window. He held her as she drifted off to sleep and prayed when he woke, that it all wasn’t a dream.

ELIZABETH AWOKE TO THE feel of warm skin, hard muscle and a distinctly male scent. Simon. He’d been so tender, so unsure. She could remember the moment the shutters of his eyes opened. How hard it must have been for him to lay bare everything he’d kept so carefully hidden. The way he’d looked at her, waiting for the rejection, and the surprise when she touched him.

She could feel his arm around her, strong and loving, and nuzzled her cheek into the crook of his shoulder. The lump on her forehead reminded her of last night’s other activities, but any pain was lost in the feeling of being in his arms. The thin sheet was pooled around his waist, and her hand rested against the bare skin of his chest. A soft sprinkling of hair tickled her palm, and she slid her hand across the muscles.

Simon cleared his throat. “Good morning.”

Elizabeth smiled at the formality in his voice. Even with a naked woman in his arms, he was still Professor Cross. She knew Simon was in there somewhere, he just needed a little coaxing. Her fingers drifted down his ribs to his abdomen. He sighed, almost sadly, and she pushed herself up onto one elbow. He was watching her carefully, bemused but apprehensive.

“Good morning yourself,” she said and dropped a kiss onto his chest.

His hand touched her shoulder tentatively and his eyes fell away from hers. “How do you feel?”

Nervous as hell. “Wonderful.”

He smiled, but still his eyes didn’t meet hers. She gently eased his face back to hers and kissed him reassuringly. When she pulled away, his expression was still troubled. He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and his eyes fell on the bruise on her forehead. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked at her again, his brow creased and she could see it was difficult for him not to look away again. “About last night…”

Her body tensed and he quickly shook his head. “Not that.”

“If you’re worried about birth control, I’ve got that covered.”

“Dear Lord. I hadn’t even thought of that,” he said, clearly appalled at his lack of foresight.

“We did have a lot on our minds.”

He relaxed a little and nodded. “I just wanted to…” he said and then shook his head again. “Thank you.”

Elizabeth laughed in relief. “If I remember correctly, I should be thanking you.”

Simon chuckled and she could feel the rumbling in his chest beneath her. “I’m fairly certain I don’t deserve you.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

A trace of a smile lifted his lips. “And if your judgment’s impaired?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

He paused and nodded slightly. A nearly imperceptible movement acknowledged something so profound. His long fingers brushed the hair away from her face and trailed down her cheek.

She leaned into his touch and settled herself more comfortably. “And how do you feel?”

He smiled for a moment, but then something else won out and he looked up at the ceiling, letting out a long breath. “Like I’m on top of the bloody world.”

She could hear the tremor in his voice. “And about to fall off?”

Simon’s eyes flicked back to hers, seemingly surprised and a little embarrassed by her insight.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Not gonna happen.”

“You seem terribly sure.”

She arched an eyebrow and slipped her body onto his. “I like it on top.”

Charlie hadn’t stopped grinning all night. Only when Elizabeth mentioned the mugging had his expression faltered. He shrugged off her concern over the money with a wave of his hand. She was all right, and that was all that mattered. The club was doing a land office business, but Elizabeth had a feeling his ear-to-ear smile was something a bit more personal.

“You look like the cat that ate the canary,” she said, as she waited for another order to be filled.

He shrugged innocently. “Just a happy man.”

She saw his eyes dart over to Simon and his smile broaden even further. She fought the urge to giggle. Charlie, the two hundred pound cupid.

However it had happened, she was grateful. Was it only yesterday she stood in this very same spot and thought her world had come crashing down? She looked across the bar at Simon. He really did play beautifully. She couldn’t see his hands, but could imagine the way they moved across the keys with sensual grace. She grinned to herself, remembering how they’d moved across her body that morning.

The warmth of the memory and the velvety melody of “Someone to Watch Over Me” lulled her into a pleasant haze. She didn’t notice the hushed voices and the newborn tension in the room until King was standing at her side.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said in a voice smoother than silk. “Although, I’m sure they’re worth much more.”

She tried not to let her fluster show and busied herself with rearranging the nearly empty tray. “Mr. Kashian.”

“King.”

She nodded once. “What brings you here again?”

His dark eyes flashed with something almost preternatural, but he schooled himself quickly. “A little business,” he said and then moved ever so slightly closer. “And perhaps a little pleasure.”

She tried not to shiver. She was used to space invaders, people who infringed on your personal bubble, but King was something else entirely. It wasn’t simply the fact he was a gangster, although she knew that should have been more than reason enough. It was that something in his eyes. Some mysteries are better left unsolved, a tiny voice told her. For once, she listened.

“I hope you have an enjoyable evening,” she said with as much finality as she could muster.

King merely smiled, and she was saved from any more conversation when Charlie appeared with her drink order.

“Here ya go, Lizzy.”

She took the tray, but couldn’t help one last glance at King. Expecting his usual entitled, insouciant expression, she was surprised to find a tinge of sadness and even a glimmer of uncertainty.

She was about to leave when she noticed her order wasn’t complete. Damn. “I need another Scat, Charlie.”

“Right, sorry.”

King shifted his shoulders and rested his gloved hands on the bar. “We have business matters to discuss, Charles.”

The bottle of whiskey trembled in Charlie’s hand. “Yeah?”

“Nothing to worry about really. The local police department will be paying you a visit tomorrow.”

Charlie’s face blanched. “A raid? You sure?”

King snorted derisively. “I assure you, my sources are never wrong.”

“I didn’t mean—”

King waved him off impatiently. “You’ll close tomorrow.”

Charlie had completely forgotten about the drink order. “Right.”

King fastidiously tugged at his kid gloves. “The situation is an aberration. An error in someone’s judgment,” he added darkly. “It won’t happen again.”

The cold resolve in his voice reminded Elizabeth exactly why she should avoid this man. He turned to her and bowed slightly, extending his hand. Reluctantly, she gave him hers. When he leaned down and kissed the back of her hand, she nearly gasped. His lips were ice cold.

His eyes fell on her wedding ring as he released her hand. “Mrs. Cross,” he said, the enigmatic exterior once again fully in place.

Without another word, he gave her his back and left. Elizabeth was still recovering from the shock when she felt Simon come up behind her. Funny how she could feel his presence now without looking.

“That was quite a display,” he said.

She turned around and did her best to push away the skin crawlies she felt lingering from King’s touch. “He was just being theatrical,” she said.

“That’s one word for it,” Simon said, shooting daggers at the door.

She placed her hand on his chest, and he covered it with his own before looking down. His face was clouded and he seemed to struggle for words. “I… I don’t like his touching you.”

“It didn’t mean anything.”

“To you perhaps. But it did to him and most assuredly to me.”

Elizabeth felt a rush at his words. Proprietary and jealous. It was silly, but the threat he exuded made her feel safe.

She smoothed his lapel and leaned closer. “Do you know how sexy you are when you’re jealous?”

“Elizabeth…”

“I can’t help it,” she said with a breathy sigh and whispered in his ear, “if I want you.”

She felt his body surge closer to hers, his hands gripping her hips, even as his hands shook. “We’re in public,” he managed in a rough voice.

But he didn’t pull away, as she slipped her arms around his neck. “But we have all day off tomorrow. Raid,” she said and blew a soft breath onto the flushed skin of his neck. “Any ideas?”

He pulled back to see her face, and she felt a thrill at the passion in his eyes. “A few.”

Heat flooded her body and she brushed a tempting kiss against his lips before leaving his embrace. She picked up her tray and looked back at him over her shoulder. “Only a few?”

“Dozen.”

Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

They spent the next morning and an indecent part of the afternoon in bed. Simon would have gladly stayed where he was, but Elizabeth’s growling stomach reminded him they hadn’t eaten in nearly twenty hours. Truth be told, he needed a little sustenance himself.

He went out alone and found a small deli down the block and bought roast beef sandwiches, two bottles of some strange lemon cola and an afternoon paper. He’d only been gone fifteen minutes and already he missed her. How quickly he’d grown accustomed to having her by his side. It seemed that everything before her was merely an echo.

Life was suddenly vibrant, colors sharper, the world alive around him. Even the people on the street seemed different, or perhaps he was only really seeing them for the first time. The smudge of newsprint on the paper boy’s cheek. The apple vendor’s stern concentration as he meticulously scrawled a new sign for his cart. The grin on a small girl’s face as she was pulled down the sidewalk in a little red wagon. They’d all been there before, he simply hadn’t bothered to notice. Simon tucked the newspaper under his arm and started back to the apartment.

When he returned, Elizabeth was still in bed, although she had gotten up long enough to put on one of his shirts. She looked absolutely adorable, sitting on the rumpled sheets, swimming inside his shirt. It was so oddly familiar, he had to remind himself this wasn’t the way it had always been. A wave of nervousness coursed through him, suddenly far too self-aware. He forced himself to ignore it.

“Aren’t you ever getting up?” he asked, as he set down the paper bag.

She pouted theatrically. “Don’t wanna.”

“Lunch is served.”

“In that case,” she said and walked over to the table. But she ignored the food and slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“I thought you were hungry?”

“Oh, I am. Starved,” she said and insinuated her body against his. “Sex makes me hungry. And I’m very hungry.”

“Elizabeth…”

With a grin she eased out of his arms and plopped down into a chair. “What’d ya get?”

“Cold sandwiches and warm soda, I’m afraid.”

Elizabeth peered inside the bag. “Sounds good to me.”

“And a paper,” Simon said as he took his seat. “There is a whole city to explore, you know.”

“Bored with me already?”

Simon reached across the table and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “Hardly. But as much as I’m loath to admit it, I’m not seventeen anymore.”

“Could have fooled me,” she said, and took an outrageously large bite from her sandwich.

He watched her devour her lunch. For such a small thing, she ate like a horse. He carefully unwrapped his sandwich and picked up the newspaper. Studiously ignoring the gory headline emblazoned across the front page, he flipped to the middle section. “I wonder what’s playing at the Roxy.”

Elizabeth giggled. “You’re certainly getting into the spirit of things.”

“Just swimming with the tide.”

Simon skimmed the pages, waiting for something to catch his interest. “There’s a new Marx Brothers movie,” he said and peered around the edge of the paper. Elizabeth’s expression stopped him cold. Her face had gone white. “What’s wrong?”

Never taking her eyes from the paper, she took it from his hands and laid it down on the table.

“This…this man,” she stuttered and pointed to the picture below the “Butcher Strikes Again!” headline. In grainy black and white, a man hung upside down in a butcher’s window. Her fingers trembled as she turned the paper around. “I think he was one of them. One of the muggers.”