Wine and Roses (2 page)

Simon’s gaze went straight to the woman sitting on the couch wrapped in a terry cloth sky blue robe drinking something from a cup. She raised her head when they entered and looked directly at him. Then promptly sneezed. He smiled and moved over to the couch, sat down beside her and took her into his arms. Her beautiful face was flushed, and her body trembled against his. “Sweetheart.” He touched her forehead. “You’re burning up. You need to be in bed.”

“I know, and that’s where I would have been except some ass decided to kill someone where I could see it.” She tried to pull out of his arms and angled her face away from him. “Don’t get so close to me, I don’t want to give you the flu.”

He grinned. “Germs don’t like me. Besides, I’ve had all my shots.” He turned to the detective. “She’s really sick, Jackson. She left her sister’s wedding earlier to come home.”

“Yeah, so I see. I’ll call another ambulance and have you taken to the hospital, Ms. Stiles. Also, a man will be assigned to your hospital room, and I can talk to you there.”

Suddenly Eboni lurched out of his arms and ran the few steps to the open kitchen area. He followed her, as she headed straight for the kitchen sink. Without a word, he got a couple of paper towels and wet them. He held her around the waist while she dry heaved into the sink. He patted her forehead and cheeks. “It’s okay. Let it out. Relax, I got ya.”

Without letting her go, he turned on the faucet and reached into the rack of clean glasses. Filled one with water and made her drink it. He guided her to the couch. Instead of sitting her on it, he managed to get her to lie down, placed a cushion under her head. He knelt beside her. “Have you taken anything for the fever?” She’d been hot to the touch, very hot.

“No….” She moaned. “Never got the chance.”

“Shh, it’s okay. We’ll get you to a hospital. It’ll all be okay.” He watched as her eyes drifted shut, and her breathing came in shallow pants. Just like that she’d fallen asleep.

“The ambulance is on its way,” Jackson stated behind him.

“Thanks. I’m gonna be staying with her, too. And you might not be able to question her tonight. Morning is soon enough, and a good night’s sleep should do her good.”

A short balding, ruddy-looking man came in with the second ambulance emergency personal. Jackson introduced the person as his partner, Calvin Smith. After, Simon left to follow the ambulance to the hospital; a police car lead the way, and an officer sat in the back of the ambulance with her. Jackson or his partner must have called ahead to let them know what they’d need. As soon as they got there, a nurse took them straight upstairs to a private room. Eboni never woke up. Simon paced the hallway outside her room while the doctor examined her. Waiting to hear the verdict before he decided if to call Ross and Shanna or not. But as quickly realized he needed to call them regardless. He’d wait until he’d spoken to the doctor, at least he’d have information to give them. Shanna would kill him if he didn’t inform her that her sister was in the hospital. He grinned thinking of Ross’s wife and Ross—one lucky SOB. Shanna was perfect for him. If anyone could pull off the forever crap, he’d lay odds on those two.

The doctor came out of the room, and Simon stepped in front of him. “Doctor, how is she?”

Detective Jackson joined them and before the doctor answered, he asked, “Can I talk to her tonight?”

The doctor glanced at both men. Detective Jackson flashed his badge. “Ms. Stiles is a material witness to a murder investigation, and I need to talk to her about what she saw.”

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but Ms. Stiles won’t be able to talk to anyone tonight. She’s got a bad case of the flu. I’ve ordered chest X-rays to make sure she doesn’t have pneumonia. Are you a relative?” he asked Simon.

“No, just a close family friend.”

“As soon as I get the results of the X-ray then I’ll know how to further proceed. Ah, here they are now to take her to imaging.” A male and female nurse wheeled a bed down the hall and stepped past them to get into the room. “You may want to call her family,” the doctor continued. “Her temperature is very high, and we need to get it down.”

From the doorway, Simon watched the nurses place Eboni on the gurney. She never once woke up or indicated an awareness of her surrounding, and he turned to follow them to imaging. “I’ll go with her,” he said over his shoulder to Jackson already moving to leave also.

“I’ll check in on you both in the morning to see how she’s doing,” Jackson said.

Simon paused. “Did you identify the guy who got shot?”

“No, so far my partner hasn’t been able to track down the identity of the vic. He had no ID on him. We’re trying to see if we get a fingerprint or facial recognition match in our database.”

“Can you text me the info?”

“Now Simon….”

“She’s my best friend’s sister. Besides you know I have access to a database you all don’t or won’t be able to get into for days. I’ll share whatever I find out.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’ll be here.”

Chapter Two

Eboni couldn’t open her eyes.

Someone had glued them shut, and an elephant sat on her chest. She tried to get her mouth to form the word “water,” but her swollen tongue got in the way. Without saying a word though, a straw brushed between her lips, and she sucked on it gratefully. Fulfillment. Cool liquid bathed her dry mouth bringing needed relief to her gritty throat. After a few sips, she managed to utter, “Thank you.” At least it sounded like it if somewhat raspy.

“You’re welcome.”

Her body stilled. She knew that voice. Only one man had a voice making her blood rush south and inner juices gather in preparation for sex. No matter how sick she was. “Simon,” she whispered.

“Yeah, babe. I’m here. Take a few more pulls.”

She did as he requested then turned her head in his direction, forcing her eyes open. She had to blink a few times to clear them. The ceiling lights were off. Most of the room lay in shadow but there was low light like a reading lamp or something from behind her head, enough she could see his face. Perfectly sculptured, strong jaw lines, dark brows and hair, sharp cheekbones hinting at a Native American ancestry in his make-up. Yep, still beautiful. “Where am I? What’s going on?”

He sat on a chair pulled close to the side of the bed. Those ever present dark wrap arounds covering his sensitive eyes. She’d only seen them once. The night they’d made love, and he’d taken off the glasses; his eyes were light gray and shaped like a cat’s. And when she lay with his hard body covering her, and a part of him buried deep within her, she looked into his eyes, and they lit up as if lightning flashed across them as he came. Ross mentioned once, that Simon’s eyes were super sensitive to any light because of a chemical blast. He was lucky he even had sight. Eboni would never forget the vision of his eyes.

“What do you remember?” he asked not answering her questions.

“I…I’m not sure.” She wanted to say, “you,” but that’s not what he meant. “Am I in the hospital?”

“Yes. You’ve been sick.”

“Yes…that’s right. I remember I have the flu. Where’s Shanna?”

“They’re on their way back from their honeymoon.”

“But why? I think I feel better than I did before. I just have the flu.”

“Actually you were pretty dehydrated, and your temperature reached 103. So the doctor admitted you.”

“Wow! That is high.” She glanced at the tube attached to her arm. “I guess they’re giving me fluids and meds.”

“Yes. The doctor should be by soon to talk to you. Do you remember anything else?”

“How long? How long have I been here?”

“I brought you here last night. So less than twenty-four hours.”

“Last night?” She glanced toward a window but the blinds were closed tight. “I…I slept through the day.”

“It’s only about five, but yeah you needed it.”

“Still don’t feel great. I remember last night was Shanna’s wedding and…and….” She shook her head. “There’s something else. Something I saw.” The memory rushed back to the forefront of her consciousness. A scene in vivid detail of what she witnessed. “Oh my God!” She turned her head to look at him. “I remember. I remember why I called you. I saw a man get shot. A man…big man in dark clothing pointed a gun at another man on the side pathway.” She tried to rise but her body wouldn’t obey her command. A jackhammer pounded in her head and even her bones ached. Settling back onto the pillow, she breathed deeply before continuing. Okay maybe she wasn’t at full strength. “Did the police catch the guy? Did the one who got shot live? What happened?”

“Shhh, relax. Don’t get agitated.”

She frowned. “I’ll be fine once you tell me what I need to know. What happened? Is the guy going to be okay?”

He paused to answer her question. “No. The man’s dead, and no, the cops didn’t find the one who did it.”

Fear snaked down her spine. The man doing the shooting got a glimpse of her, and she’d seen him. She could identify him. “Oh God. I’m a witness. I saw him. I saw the man who did it. Big guy, about your height, with blond hair. But Simon.” She held his dark lens-covered gaze. “I’m pretty sure he saw me, too.”

“Yes, I know. You told me when you called me. But don’t worry. There’s a police officer stationed in front of this door until you’re released, and I will be here with you at all times. If I have to leave you, one of our people will spot me. Tomorrow if you’re up to it, the detective in charge wants to talk to you and have you take a look at a few mug shots.”

Her audio functions might have been a little fuzzy, but she’d heard him. “Simon you can’t stay in here with me.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But…but where will you sleep? You can’t stay in that chair.” Although the thought occurred to her he could share the bed with her. Something she’d thought about doing many times over the last few months. And more. They’d only been together once. But Simon treated relationships like short-term, very short-term, projects. Sleep with, enjoy for a day, a night, and move on. Her body and head understood, and it’s what they had done. Well, her head at least. At times, her body still got up in the middle of the night with the taste of him in her mouth. And wanted more. No, she couldn’t go there. If she got involved with him again, he’d break her heart.

He grinned at her, and she tried to answer it with one of her own. “I won’t be in the chair,” he said, inclining his head to the left. “I’ll be sleeping over there.”

She shifted her head and saw the cot against the bland beige color of the hospital wall. The white sheets looked wrinkled; she looked at him again. “A little small for you isn’t it.” She smiled. At six two of solid muscle, no way could his frame fit comfortably on that tiny cot. At least not without some pain from having to cram into the space. A yawn forced her mouth open, and suddenly she couldn’t keep her eyes focused. She blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, tired…sleep.”

“It’s okay, babe, you rest. I’ll be right here when you get up again.”

She sensed more than saw him lean forward and kiss her forehead. Then the meds in her veins helped to draw her body once more down to the land of slumber.

***

When Eboni woke up again, Simon lay sprawled on the cot against the wall. His feet hung off the end of the too small bed. He’d been right there with her for the last three days, only leaving her for short periods of time but never alone. She had the chance to watch him unobserved and took pleasure in studying his perfect features. Even in sleep the man looked dangerous. Not an innocent bone marred his body. Nothing soft about him. Except for his hair. He wore his dark hair pulled back with the tail end of it hanging around his neck. Her hands held the memory of its thickness and strands as soft as silk. And his mouth. It didn’t look malleable, more like a thin line of arrogance but it could go soft when pressed against any part of her body. She stifled a groan. Both drawn to him and afraid of him. Simon would never physically harm her, yet he could get her to do things so beyond her comfort zone she’d no longer recognize herself. In the brief period of time they’d spent together, she’d known that and acted on it.

My God, she’d slept with him the night after they’d met. No, she couldn’t romanticize what they’d done; no love involved there, just sex. Raw, gritty, primal. And so tender at times she’d wept. The best she’d ever experienced, and something told her would ever have. Too bad in the end still just sex. Maybe if she kept telling herself that enough, she’d get Simon out of her thoughts.

Eboni must have made some sort of noise because in an eye blink she was shocked to find herself staring into those pale gray eyes of Simon’s. They darkened to a stormy gray watching her. She could have sworn streaks of lightning flashed in them. The first time she’d seen that peculiar phenomena, he’d been buried inside of her, moving above her, and he’d asked her to open her eyes. No, this man didn’t ask, he commanded. The same way he’d come back to the shop that night before closing.

Simon brought her a few products Shanna wanted her to try. He could have dropped them off with the receptionist and departed, he didn’t, and they’d been the lasts ones in the salon. Simon handed the package to the receptionist but never said a word to Eboni. Who had trimmed and washed his hair the night before, so when he stuck around, she’d known why. He took a seat near the receptionist desk where he could see her at her station. She’d filled in for one of the stylists. The receptionist gave her the package and gave her his message; he waited for her to finish. After the last customer and stylist left, he helped her clean up. She set the alarm and locked the shop. Only when they stood together outside in front of the salon did he touch her or speak.

Staring at her he raised one finger and traced the side of her face, her nose, barely skimmed her lips. “I’ve been thinking about you since last night,” Simon said. “I need to bury myself inside you tonight.”

The bluntness of his declaration did not surprise her. This man did not beat around the bush about his needs. She never once thought about denying him. Instinct guided her decision, and she’d followed him home that night. Later, she forced herself to get up and get the hell outta there while he still slept. But she’d left a piece of herself with him. A part she never thought to get back. So when he stared at her with lightning streaking across his eyes again, she almost lost herself in his storm filled orbs. Some sense of self-preservation saved her. She blinked. “Good morning,” she murmured.