Worcester Nights - The Boxed Set (25 page)

I snorted. “And she just happens to look like a high class hooker?”

He flushed. “Francesca is … well …”

I took a step toward him. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to know. Despite my best efforts, the words skidded through my mind, flaring sparks as they went, and burst through my lips.

“Did you sleep with her?”

His gaze was dark, shadowed, and for a long moment time hung still.

His voice was hoarse. “Kay –”

I stumbled back against the bed. Somehow, even in my most desolate depths, I had still held out hope that this was an elaborate ruse of some sort. Surely it was a convoluted plot by Seamus and Bridgit to test my loyalty.

Apparently there was no need to invent the test material.

Sean reached for me again, and I pulled back from him as if he were a red-hot poker. My voice was a hiss. “Don’t you touch me.”

He dropped to a knee, his tone rough. “It was only one time, Kay. Before you and I had met. I had just arrived here, she was assigned to me, and we went out for drinks. I was single, she was eager, and … it just happened, Kay. The next morning I knew it was wrong, and I told her that, in no uncertain terms. But she …” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s having trouble accepting that.”

His gaze grew focused, and he stared up at me. “I swear to you, Kay, that from the moment you came into my life, there has been nobody else. Francesca means nothing to me. She’s there in an official capacity – nothing more.”

I crossed my arms. “And I’m sure you’re just so sad to have her visiting you all the time.”

His lips pressed into a line. “Kay, if I could have switched to someone else, I would have. But with everything that’s going on …” He glanced again toward the door.

I thought of Jimmy and Bridgit on the other side of that door, of the pornography ring that stretched across many states. I thought of all the girls and women who relied on us to see this through.

The heated energy faded from me, dwindling like a cigarette snuffed in a bed of sand. I slumped back to sit on the bed.

Sean’s voice was hoarse. “Kay, I swear it on my mother. I swear it on my aunt. I’ll swear on anything you wish. There was only that one, foolish, drunken night with Francesca. From the moment I’ve met you, I’ve been true to you.”

I looked down at my hands. He seemed sincere. And I’d known he’d had girlfriends before me. Heck, I had been with Derek for several years, which was certainly more serious than a one-night fling. Would I expect Sean to get wildly jealous if we ran into Derek some evening? Or would I expect him to trust in me, to know that Derek was simply a man from my past, a man who could no longer impact what Sean and I shared?

My stomach tumbled, roiled, and Sean swept me up, carrying me over to the window. He got the window up and my head over the ledge just in time for the contents of my stomach to empty. The spasms shook me for long minutes, and he held my hair back, soothing me. When at last I was done he propped me against the window for a moment, stepping through the door and into the bathroom. He came back with a moist washcloth, using it to wipe down my face and mouth.

He put the washcloth down on the bureau, then came back to stand before me. His gaze held tension in it.

“Kay, I know I should have told you about Francesca. And I’m sorry. She’s just so … volatile. I didn’t know what she’d say or do. I thought, if I could just keep her away from you for a little while, until we got settled, that I could get transferred away from her. You wouldn’t ever have to deal with her.”

I held his gaze. “You chose to lie to me.”

He blanched. “I was trying to protect –”

I took a step forward. “I’m an adult,” I pointed out. “I can choose for myself how to handle issues. But if you’re going to lie to me, this isn’t going to work.”

He took in a long breath, then let it out. “You’re right. Of course. I’m sorry, Kay. I’m so sorry. I was trying to keep you from being hurt, not to hurt you even further.”

He took a step, coming in front of me. He raised a hand toward my face, then stopped, hesitant. “Tell me what to do, Kay. Tell me how I can make this better.” His voice grew hoarse. “I love you, Kay. I don’t want to lose you. What should I do?”

I looked up into his eyes, into the tangle of emotions which lay there. At their core shone through a steady, golden glow of love. The warmth of it eased through my tired body, soothed the aches in my muscles.

My voice whispered out of me. “I want to go home.”

A sigh eased out of him, then his arms were drawing me in against his chest. I went passively, resting against his sturdy muscles. His embrace was like granite, like immovable walls, and I was safe within their protection.

Time faded away.

At last he wrapped an arm around my waist and moved me to the door. We stepped through into the hallway. There was a noise, and Bridgit was standing in her bedroom doorway, a paisley robe wrapped around her body. Her eyes were gleams in the dark night.

“Katie, are you sure you want to go?”

I nodded. “I’m sure, Bridgit. Thank you for everything. I appreciate it a lot.”

She pursed her lips. “All right, lass. You change your mind, the room’s all ready for you.”

Sean helped me down the stairs, bringing me over to sit on the couch. He slid each of my boots on. Then he took up the jacket which was laid over the arm of the couch. After he zipped it up, he drew me to my feet, then pressed open the front door. His Triumph was parked immediately in front of the house.

He looked at the bike, then at me. “Are you all right to ride? I can call a cab, if you’d rather.”

I shook my head. “It’s not far. I’ll be fine.”

He kept his gaze on me for a moment longer, then nodded. We put on our helmets, climbed onto the bike, and in a moment we were drifting through the dark streets of Worcester.

It seemed the blink of an eye before I was back on those stairs, back at the spot where only hours before I’d been confronted by Helen of Troy, by the goddess who drove men to madness. My stomach tilted, and Sean steadied me, helping me up the remaining steps.

I stumbled into the apartment, and he helped me with my jacket, locking the door behind us. I looked over at the bed and a shudder coursed through me. “You didn’t –”

“No,” he responded shortly. “We went to her apartment. And this was before I even got the studio. Today was the only time she’s been here.”

I drew my eyes to the photographs on the walls, and my mind went back to the session we’d had, to the connection which had transcended words. My mouth went dry. “And did you –”

“No,” he stated again, stepping to me. “You’re the only one I’ve ever done that with. I’d never felt inspired like that with anybody else. My photos were all of still lifes – the Adirondack chairs, the Triumph, even the burning building in its way.” He gazed at me with that look which could melt me. “And then you came into my life.” He reached out a hand to trace it down my cheek. “God, Kay, I would never do anything to hurt you.”

My throat tightened up. “But Bridgit said … she said that for men it’s like being in a chocolate factory, and the most delicious chocolate bar is being pressed right up against your lips. All you have to do is open your mouth. How long can you resist that?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he shook his head. “Ah, Kay, it’s not like that for me at all.” He drew me in so my body pressed against his, his arms securely around me. He gazed down into my eyes.

“We are a team, Kay. We rely on each other. We are like a pair of tightrope walkers, walking on parallel lines stretching across the Grand Canyon. It’s a long way to go, and we are holding hands. It’s our holding of hands which is keeping us in balance.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek. “If I let go, Kay, to turn to someone else, I hurt us both. You can fall. I can fall. My attention is no longer fully, wholly, on our relationship. I could easily damage it beyond all salvation.”

He gave a wry smile. “Some might think that an affair doesn’t hurt the main couple. That it’s somehow separate from the core relationship. But how could it be? We all only have a finite amount of energy. We have a finite amount of waking hours. The time and attention paid to the extra partner is all time and attention not invested in the main relationship. That can’t be gotten back.”

His gaze held mine. “And surely you deserve a man who is there for you wholly. Someone whose loyalties aren’t divided, whose thoughts aren’t distracted.” His gaze stilled, settled. “I swear to you, Kay, I am that man.”

He swept me up in his arms and carried me over to the bed, gently laying me onto it. He pulled off my boots, then removed his own. He climbed into bed next to me, laying on his side, just gazing at me.

His voice was hoarse. “I will never let go of your hand, Kay.”

I closed my eyes, and the world swirled away.

Chapter 10

I
smiled in sheer joy as we pulled into the parking lot at the Natick Mall. The weather was stunning, with drifting white clouds dancing across a robin’s-egg-blue sky. The ride down the Mass Pike had been fantastic. Now we were going to go shopping for an elegant gown. Life couldn’t get much better.

We parked the bike, tucked away our helmets, then walked hand-in-hand into the mall. I blushed, feeling like a high schooler on her first date. We had been immersed in the seedy bar for so long, in the slime and filth of all it encompassed, that to be out strolling in a mall felt almost sublime.

He looked over at the Macy’s sign. “Let’s try there first, shall we?”

I went willingly. Spending the day shopping for dresses with the most handsome man I’d ever met suited me to a T. I grinned at a pink-and-green ruffly thing he held up, then rolled my eyes at a pumpkin-orange outfit which barely covered my rear.

I gave him a teasing grin. “Looks like something
Francesca
would wear.”

He took my hand. “Kay, I’m sorry you had to meet her like that. When I arrived in Worcester, I was briefed by the vice group here. She latched onto me immediately and volunteered to be my point of contact. She’d pose as my parole officer so we could pass information back and forth. Things got … a bit out of hand that first night.”

I waved the orange dress in front of his eyes. “Seems she’s become rather fond of some of those
roles
she’s playing during her undercover vice stings.”

His gaze shadowed. “I’ve seen it before, Kay. It’s a hard line to navigate, playing at being a prostitute. The woman has to be convincing. It’s not too long before she’s affected by the filth of that world. Men constantly groping at her … treating her like an object, not a person … it’s very damaging. Over time she often does what real prostitutes tend to do – she finds a way to see herself as the one with power.”

“Oh? And how is that?”

“She looks at the interaction as one where she is in control. She shows more cleavage, and the guy is eating out of her hand. She lets him look, and he’ll do anything she wants. She finds a way to view the situation as one where she’s the person pulling the strings, and he’s just a crude animal.”

I nodded. “I guess I can see that. But surely the brass doesn’t normally let the vice cops get that emotionally damaged?”

“You’re right. The police are very aware that this can happen. It’s why they keep rotations short, so women aren’t sunk in that world for long periods of time.” He pressed his lips into a line. “Apparently every time they try to transfer Francesca out, she makes a fuss. Talks about all the connections she has. I think she’s been in too long. It’s got a grip on her that she can’t shake. And I think, over time, that the fallout on her world view will only get worse.”

I put the orange dress back onto its rack. “Well, I hope she can get out soon. It sounds like a rough place to be.”

I nudged my head toward the main mall, giving myself a shake. “In any case, these outfits clearly aren’t right for what you have planned. Let’s move on, and see what we can find for
our
little undercover work. So that we can finish it – and get out – as soon as possible.”

I indulged him while we tried another few stores, but I knew where I’d find my choice. It would either be Lord & Taylor or Neiman Marcus. I’d spent the morning paging through their websites and salivating over the options. Now to see what they had in stock in my size, and how I looked in them.

We stepped into Lord & Taylor first, making our way into the formal wear area. A crimson dress with black lace overlay caught my eye, and I stepped forward to it, running my hand along the fabric.

A woman’s voice, dripping with disapproval, sounded from over my shoulder. “Can I help you with something?”

I turned. Her hair was brownish-orange, in tight curls around her head, and her navy blue suit jacket gave her a stiff, formal carriage. Her grey eyes pierced through me as she took in my leather jacket, jeans, and boots.

Her sigh could probably be heard throughout the mall. “Window shopping, I assume?”

I bit down my annoyance. “I was wondering if this dress came in –”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so, dearie. You’ll probably find things your style down in Sears.”