Nothing solid, but I’ve got a feeling in my bones that we’re on to something.”
Natasha was in a grim mood as she drove home from work that evening. Usually she enjoyed a warm autumn rain. It made her feel cozy when she sat beside her fireplace with a glass of wine. Today was different. The rain only served to accent her feelings of despair, along with a dyspeptic stomach that gnawed at her like a disease.
She had picked up sandwiches at the deli and rushed home at lunchtime, hoping to surprise him, only to find her apartment empty. The ungrateful swine could have at least written a note to say thank you!
She felt the tears well in her eyes as she tried to force her office key into her apartment door. She changed keys, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
She looked on the counter as if by magic there might be a note, but there was nothing.
But something had changed. She looked again. Her kitchen felt warm, and her stereo was playing quietly in the living room.
“Hi,” Jack said softly, appearing from the living room.
He was clean-shaven and dressed in a navy blue suit accented by a burgundy tie and handkerchief. He held a solitary long-stemmed red rose in his hand.
He looked at her face and dropped the flower on the counter, stepping forward.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she said, then kissed him and let him hold her tight before pushing him away and picking up the long-stemmed rose. “Is this for me?”
“No, I thought it was Danny coming in.”
She saw the grin on Jack’s face and smiled back. “Where’s your sling?”
“I’m okay as long as I don’t jar it.”
“You can cook?” asked Natasha, while retrieving a vase from her china cabinet.
“I’ve taken a few courses. French, Italian, Thai, but being a one-armed gourmet is something new. My repertoire is small, but I like to think it’s good.”
Natasha noticed that the gas fireplace was on. Her table had already been set, with two new candles alongside her dishes. Romantic music drifted softly through the room. “Give me a minute to change,” she said.
Natasha liked the look on Jack’s face when she reappeared wearing a black chiffon dress, a pearl necklace accenting her long dark hair.
The candles had burned to the bottom by the time dinner was over. Crab-stuffed mushroom caps were followed by a beef roulade accompanied by mushroom gravy. The wine was a pinot noir. It was a good match for the food. The main course was followed by latticed chocolate rum pie. Natasha found the whole meal a sensual experience.
After dinner, Natasha sat on the sofa while Jack went to the kitchen. He appeared moments later carrying a silver tray, upon which were two glasses of flaming liqueur.
“Sambuca,” he said, putting the tray on the coffee table and sitting down.
She moved closer to him on the sofa and watched the rain running down the outside of her patio doors. The glass caught the flickering reflection from the fireplace. The rain seemed beautiful again and gave a feeling of intimacy.
She felt his arm wrap around her bare shoulder, coaxing her body closer. The musky, haunting smell of his cologne aroused her senses. She enjoyed the feel of his warm hand on her shoulder as she snuggled in.
She raised the sambuca to her lips and watched as the clear liquid picked up the light from the fire, shimmering like diamonds. Three coffee beans floating on top glistened below the blue flame dancing above. She marvelled at it for a moment, then caught the shine in Jack’s eyes as he held his glass up, giving a silent toast.
She gave a small breath to blow out the flame and let the licorice flavour of the liqueur explore her mouth before warming its way down her throat. She looked intently into his eyes, then put her glass down and took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom.
She felt his naked body next to hers as he lay on his side, softly touching her face before gently kissing her on the temple. She felt his hand gently glide up the inside of her thigh and then slowly trail up the rest of her body. The underside of his arm brushed her nipples and she felt them harden to his touch. His scent filled her lungs and she could almost taste him, wishing he were inside her.
Finally he kissed her again. She responded with a lustful hunger but felt him pull away.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I keep forgetting you’re injured. Did I…”
His placed his finger lightly on her lips, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t hurt me,” he said softly. “I just want to remember this moment forever.”
Their mouths found each other again and her passion grew with intensity until it exploded when she felt him inside her. When they were finished, she lay with her head on his chest, enjoying the feel of his hand as he continued to caress her body.
She was not totally unaccustomed to making love, but it had never felt so good and so right in all her life as it did tonight. Her body tingled again under his touch and soon she was aroused to a passion that, until now, was something she thought existed only in books and the fantasies of others.
chapter twenty-three
Lance Morgan locked the public door from inside his arcade and walked to his office in the rear. It was mid-week, and business had been slow. He flicked off the lights and opened the rear door leading into a small parking area behind the arcade.
The barrel of a shotgun rammed deep into his belly below the rib cage. He doubled over, his lungs paralyzed as his knees sunk to the floor. Danny stepped forward and with his free hand grabbed Lance’s hair and sent him sprawling backwards. Jack followed and flicked on the light to the office as the door swung shut behind him. He also carried a shotgun with a metal folded stock.
Lance looked up from the floor, still trying to catch his breath, and gasped, “Take it, guys, no need to hurt me. It’s only about four hundred bucks. Mostly coin. I’ll open it for ya,” he said, waving his arm toward a small safe in the office.
“You don’t remember me, do ya?” Jack barked out the words while stepping closer and sticking the barrel of the shotgun into Lance’s crotch.
Lance used his hands and feet to edge himself backwards on the floor. He stopped when Jack pushed the shotgun deeper into his crotch. His eyebrows furled as he stared up at Jack.
“One week ago, behind the Black Water,” Jack added.
The blood drained from Lance’s face. He whispered, “You’re Eddy!”
Jack smiled down at him. “So, how does it feel to be on the receiving end?”
“You ought to know,” said Lance bitterly. “Live by the gun, die by the gun. Just do what you came here to do, man. I had nothin’ against you personal, so just kill me an’ get it over with.”
“Tell you what,” snarled Jack. “Tell me why you tried to kill me and maybe I’ll consider letting you
