Sensuous Angel (17 page)

Read Sensuous Angel Online

Authors: Heather Graham

BOOK: Sensuous Angel
12.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A dozen things flew through her mind. She wanted to stop, to make time stand still. No, she couldn’t call it off. She pulled dozens of people into the city, not to mention a Worcester priest. They would all kill her.

But if it was wrong, it would be better to stop now. Now, before she became his wife….

Her father placed her hand into Luke’s. It was warm and strong and reassuring. She inhaled the scent of his cologne, she felt the power and tension emanating from his tall, darkly handsome form. Again his eyes touched hers. Gold fire, fascinating fire. A blaze of warmth that seemed to promise it was all right….

Of course, when they asked her to say “I do” she could always say, “I think so, but would you all mind waiting for just a minute? I just need the answers to a riddle I don’t understand. Doesn’t this man seem a little secretive to you? Luke, what is it that you don’t want me to know?”

“I do.” Luke had spoken. Clear, sure. His husky tenor drifting to her, encompassing her, seeming to caress her.

“I do.” She had spoken. And now she was his wife.

No more thinking about it. No more worrying. It was done, for better or worse, until death…

Death. April had died. April, whom he wouldn’t talk about.

“Donna…”

She felt his kiss. Slow…and then quick. Proper…and yet a yearning promise of the night to come….

Then suddenly everyone was cheering. Cheering? People didn’t cheer at weddings, but she reminded herself this was Luke’s wedding.

They had barely made it down the aisle before people were grabbing her, hugging her, kissing her, wishing her the very best for the future.

Donna felt a little lost. Luke had been pulled away from her. There was to be a small reception in the hall behind the offices. Small! she thought with a little panic. There were at least two hundred people there.

“Hey, wife!”

His whisper warmed her ear. She felt his hands on her shoulders, his length behind her as he leaned low. She tilted her chin to catch his grin and quick reassurance.

“In just a few hours we can be on our way.”

She smiled. As long as he was near her, she felt warm, felt the certainty that she could have never lived without him once her life had crossed paths with his.

“Have you met the ladies in the bridge club?” he asked her, suddenly flashing a white smile.

She spun about. A horde of matrons was descending on them. She felt like kicking him, and then she felt like laughing. “No, I haven’t met the ladies of the bridge club yet.”

“Be charming, will you?”

“No problem, Father.”

She was charming and she was charmed. The group was wonderful, welcoming, thrilled to meet her, and so very happy for her and for Luke.

“We’re just ever so glad!” exclaimed one little woman with a beautiful shade of neatly groomed silver hair. “April’s death was such a tragedy! And Luke is such a handsome, vital man. Half the women are in love with him—the young ones and the old ones too!” She laughed. “We didn’t think he’d ever marry again. But now, Luke has you! And you’re just lovely, dear.”

“Thank you so much,” Donna murmured. Why did the conversation bother her? April Trudeau’s death had been a tragedy. She had been very young, and very beautiful.

They moved into the hall, and Donna sipped champagne, received more good wishes, and was exceedingly grateful that her family was Italian and that her mother and grandmother had been in charge of the food. There was enough to feed an army.

She was grateful once again when Luke’s mother caught her arm, excused them both sweetly, and hurried her out the rear door of the hall. “Can you get back to the house by yourself, Donna? You need to grab your things and be ready to go. Luke ran into one of the choir rooms to change.”

“Yes, yes, I can find the house!” Donna said.

Luke’s mother smiled at her, squeezing her hands. She looked as if she were about to cry, but she hugged Donna. “I hardly know you, dear, but I feel that we’ll be great friends.”

“I think so too,” Donna answered, returning the hug. I hardly know your son, she thought. But…

“Have a wonderful time. You’ll come to dinner as soon as you get back?”

“Of course!”

“Oh…you’d better hurry! It’s so gray it’s hard to tell when it’s raining and when it isn’t. Run along!”

With a last quick hug, Donna did, making a mental note to make Luke’s family a first priority when they came back from their honeymoon and settled down to normalcy.

Just as she reached the house, the heavens seemed to let loose. Donna thrashed quickly through her bag for the double key set Luke had given her last night. She slammed the door behind her and fumbled for the light switch in the hallway. Brightness vanished the gray, and she paused for a minute, a little awed, a little thrilled—a little disbelieving. She had really married Luke. She was his wife, this was her home. And Luke…Luke was hers…..

Not if she didn’t get her things together and be ready, she thought dryly. The unexpected size of the wedding had surely thrown off their timing. She wanted to be ready to run out the door the minute he appeared.

Donna hurried into his bedroom. She didn’t allow herself idle time to fantasize about her future in the room; she pulled out her suitcase, decided on a lightweight suit, shivering as she did so. It felt so cold but she was honeymooning somewhere warm, and she didn’t want to get off the airplane and find that she was wilting. Not on her wedding night….

She paused suddenly, holding perfectly still and frowning. There had been something…some sound from the office. Little fingers of dread tripped along the small of her back, and she listened intently. Nothing….But then she heard it again. The sound of the window.

It crossed her mind that she should tell Luke the front door didn’t need a double lock when entry through the windows seemed to be so easy. But then she forgot about witty comments she might make later, because she was suddenly positive someone was in his office.

Cautiously and silently, she grabbed her purse and crept down the hall, trying to convince herself that the intruder was only Andrew, hoping to catch one of them.

But what if it wasn’t Andrew? She needed to run now and find out later. But she couldn’t get to the door to run—not unless she went past the office.

Tiptoeing and barely breathing, she paused at the office door. She swallowed hard and edged just close enough to see inside.

It wasn’t Andrew. There was a woman quietly lowering the window. Donna’s brow furrowed with puzzlement. She had seen the woman, briefly, before. She had been standing in the back of the church during the service. She wore a low-brimmed hat, gray-tinted glasses, and a trenchcoat with the collar pulled up high. Against the cold and the rain, or because she was hiding something?

She was tall and slender, blond—and drenched as badly as a drowned rat. Go now, Donna warned herself, run, and find Luke….

But she didn’t run. She stared open-mouthed as the woman turned around and let out a panicked scream as she realized that a shadow was watching her.

It was Lorna who ran, hopping back out the window in a wild panic.

Donna tried to call her name to reassure her, but her first cry came out as a whisper, and Lorna was out of the window before she could yell again. “Lorna!” Damn! Lorna hadn’t seen her, only a vague form in the hallway. “Lorna! Wait! It’s me, Donna!”

Barely pausing for thought, Donna raced for the window and crawled through it. She could see her friend running down the street, trying to hail a taxi. Donna paused, then streaked after her, barely aware that she was destroying her blue silk. “Lorna!”

The figure continued to run. Donna stopped in dismay as she saw a taxi halt and Lorna hop in. “Lorna!” She screamed again. The taxi started to move as Donna kept running. She would never get another cab, not in the rain.

But she began to believe in miracles when she saw another taxi pulling to the corner. The driver pushed open the door and, with no hesitation, Donna hopped in.

“Where to, lady?”

It didn’t strike her just how ridiculous she would sound until she spoke. “Ah…just follow that cab, please.”

“Which cab?” There were cabs all over the place.

“That cab!” She pointed out the Checker that Lorna had taken. It was over a block ahead of them.

“It’s your fare, lady, but if you ask me, you’ve been watching too much television.”

“Just follow the cab, please,” Donna said with the best effort at dignity she could muster.

Maybe the cabbie had been watching too much television himself, because he did try. He tried so hard that Donna felt as if her heart was lodged in her throat for the entire ride. But somewhere—where, she didn’t know—they lost sight of the Checker.

“What now, lady?” The driver asked her.

But before she could answer, Donna spotted the cab. It was stopped at the corner, half hidden by a produce truck. Lorna was nimbly climbing from it.

“I’ll get out!” Donna replied. She scrambled in her purse for the cab fare and paid him, yelling out that he should keep the change.

Apparently it was more than an ample amount. “Thanks, lady!” he yelled to her. “You keep watching that television of yours, you hear?”

Donna barely heard him as she dashed down the street, trying to thread her way through an incredible number of people for such a stormy night. When she reached the corner, there was no sign of Lorna.

Refusing to accept defeat, Donna walked along the block of shops. Lorna couldn’t have disappeared into any of them; they were all closed. Donna kept walking anyway, until she was ready to cry.

The rain came again. Only when she started to shiver in earnest did it suddenly occur to her that she hadn’t the faintest idea of where she was.

And then she paused in horror. Luke! Oh, no, he had to be wondering what happened to her. She should have been ready for her honeymoon twenty minutes ago!

He would understand. Surely he would understand, she thought frantically.

Are you crazy? she asked herself. He wasn’t going to understand how she chased after Lorna in the pouring rain like an idiot.

Donna started searching the streets for a cab. And now—now when she needed it so desperately!—the cabs that rushed by, sending puddles of cold rain splashing over those who tried to hail them, were all full.

She had to get to a phone. She started looking and when she found one, discovered that the receiver had been torn out. She glanced around uneasily and finally realized that she hadn’t ended up in the best part in town.

Whistling against the darkness and the rain and the people—who all looked sinister now—Donna started walking again. She found another phone, one with a receiver. But when she started to tear her purse apart, she hadn’t a single coin.

She stood on the sidewalk, cursing her own stupidity, until a form rose from the shadows and approached her. “Hiya, honey,” the drunk muttered.

“Oh, go straighten up, will you!” Donna snapped, but she began to hurry down the street in the opposite direction.

Then a small miracle occurred. She heard the sound of wheels driving-up beside her and she turned quickly, nervously. It was her original cab driver.

“Lady,” he called out to her, “are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Yes, I think I am! But where did you come from? How—”

“I’ve been tagging you. I’m not the last of the great humanitarians or anything, but I thought you might be in trouble.”

“Oh, bless you!” Donna stumbled back into the cab, still babbling. “Oh, bless you, bless you! And my husband’s a priest, so it really should mean something.”

He already thought she was crazy. It didn’t seem to matter much if he thought her an idiot too.

But he didn’t comment until they reached the house. It was dark. Where was Luke? she wondered anxiously.

“Doesn’t look like anybody’s home,” the cabbie commented. “Should I take ya somewhere else?”

“No, no,” Donna answered, overpaying him atrociously again.

“My name is Dave Gimbal, lady. Give me a call at the shop anytime, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Donna murmured. She stepped from the cab and started rummaging through her bag for her keys. Then she remembered that she had set them on the dresser when she changed her shoes.

“What did I do to deserve this?” She groaned, staring up at the dark heavens.

With a sigh of resignation she turned toward the garden, tripped through the damp foliage, jerked up the window, and crawled over the windowsill.

She had been wrong. The house wasn’t completely dark. The desk lamp was burning and the house wasn’t empty. Luke, clad in a pair of jeans and work shirt, was sitting on the edge of his desk, the phone in his hand.

She tried to smile against his thundering scowl but it didn’t work.

“Donna, where have you been?”

“Lorna was here. I—I tried to chase her.”

“Lorna?” Disbelief was written all over his face.

“I swear it, Luke. I startled her, and she ran. And I—I tried to catch up with her.”

His eyes raked over her from head to toe. “Just how far did you run?”

“I…until I tried to follow her cab.”

“In another cab, I presume? Oh, never mind!” he snapped with fury. He pushed the button on the phone and started dialing a number, never taking the searing fury of his stare from her. “Andrew, she’s here. You can call off the search. What?” A long pause. “Well, at least she’s back too.” Another pause. “Tonight I have to agree with you. A pair of idiots!”

Donna stiffened at the tone of his voice. Anger raged inside her, but enough to stop her from shivering from the cold rain.

Luke hung up the phone and crossed his arms over his chest. His casual stance was deceptive, but she knew him better. He was about as casual as a cobra about to strike.

Her shivering increased as she remembered the night that they had met, the way he had plucked off the young mugger with a grip that could crush bone.

“You could have both gotten yourselves killed!” Luke snapped so suddenly that his voice was like a whipcrack in the room. Donna forced herself not to jump.

“Luke, you have to understand that it was
Lorna
—”

“Yes, it was Lorna. And between the two of you, you had half the police in New York running wild goose chases in the rain.”

Other books

Beauty and the Greek by Kim Lawrence
The Sweet Girl by Annabel Lyon
The Face of Another by Kobo Abé
A Bad Boy For Summer by Blake, Joanna
Roots of Murder by Janis Harrison
Brute: The Valves MC by Faye, Carmen
The Diabolical Baron by Mary Jo Putney
An Irish Country Wedding by Patrick Taylor