BILLIONAIRE BIKERS: 3 MC Romance Books (76 page)

She snuggled into him, and he held her with one arm while pulling the covers over her with the other. Now, he needed to sleep for a while.

She woke up a short while later and turned her face to look at him. It seemed nearly miraculous that he was here by her side.

Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up from the bedstand. The display indicated that it was Neil. She clicked to ignore the call.

She looked back at Lucas, realizing that he was deep asleep. Before her feet hit the floor, the phone buzzed again, and she saw again that it was Neil. This time she turned the phone off before laying it back on the stand. This wasn’t the time to talk to him.

She got up, grabbing her robe and a clean pair of panties, and retreated to the shower. She emerged a short time later, towel-drying her hair.

Lucas opened one eye.

“I’m sorry,” she said, stopping to look at him. “That’s one bad thing about such a tiny apartment.”

“No,” he said, reaching for her. “It’s okay. I went deep for a little bit. I’ll be all right now until later.”

She sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’ve already showered,” he said, opening both eyes now. “What is that delectable scent you’re wearing?”

She sniffed the back of her hand. “Crabtree & Evelyn,” she said.

“Is that a scent?” he asked.

“No, it’s the company that makes this amazing body lotion,” she said.

“Oh. Well, whatever it is, keep wearing it.”

She laughed, and he heard the kind of sparkle in her laugh that he had not heard since shortly after they first met.

“Can I fix you something to eat?” she asked.

“In a little bit,” he said. “You’re enough of a feast for me right now.”

They stayed there in silence, him lying on his back, her sitting beside him on the bed. They knew something had happened that was too strong for words, but none were needed. They both understood.

She left the curtains drawn and the fireplace on, set the table, and lit a candle. He came out of the shower for a second time in a towel.

“I just realized my bag is still in the truck,” he said.

“And you don’t want to put your dirty clothes back on. Of course. After we eat, I’ll run down and get your bag for you.”

“You want me to eat in the nude?”

“I can turn up the heat if you want,” she offered.

He chuckled. “Not necessary.”

He started to sit down and she shook her head. “No wet towels on my furniture.” He raised his eyebrows and slowly dropped his towel.

Her eyes roved over him. “That’s better,” she said.

He sat down at the table, and she brought him a plate of grilled salmon and vegetables.

“How did you grill this?” he asked.

“It’s a secret,” she said, grinning. “Actually, I buy it already grilled, then I just pan sear it quickly before serving it.”

They began to eat, and he looked up at her as though he was seeing her for the first time.

“You’re very different,” he said. “I’m mystified how it could happen in such a short time.”

“So are you,” she said. “There’s an ease about you that I’ve never seen.”

He nodded. “I imagine so. But you….”

“Getting a whole new identity can do amazing things,” she said. “I’m sorry that everybody doesn’t have the chance to do this. Even the name change, perhaps especially the name change, gave it a whole unexpected dimension.”

“You’re Elise now.”

She nodded. “Elise Woodrow, Design Assistant,” she said.

“Do you want me to call you Elise?”

She nodded. “I do. I left Audra behind in Arizona.”

“You seem to have so much confidence.”

“I
do
have so much confidence,” she said. “They say that women are rarely defined by what they
do
, but getting this job, learning so much, and being groomed for an associate position, is quite a boost. It affirms that I lost nothing of my essential self, and that everything else can be shed like a snakeskin.”

“Confidence would have something to do with it, but it can’t wholly account for the performance I just witnessed,” he said.

“Performance?”

He tipped his head toward the bed.

“Ohhh,” she said.

“Do you still want me to believe that you have not been intimate with someone else? You hadn’t had much experienced when I saw you last.”

For an instant, she was hurt that he didn’t believe her. But then she realized that he had walked into so many unknowns.

“The girl you knew was frightened for her life and clinging desperately. I was afraid to do much of anything, afraid I’d displease you. But no, newly acquired confidence doesn’t account for it all.”

He cocked an eye toward her as he ate, waiting for more information.

She gave him a quixotic smile. “I could tell you that it was a secret, but I don’t think you’d let me get by with that.”

“No,” he said. “I wouldn’t.”

“Well, first, I’m no longer frightened—although from what you said earlier, perhaps I should be more than I am. Second, I feel like much more of a woman now. Now that I have my own money and can buy the things I want, I buy the things that make me feel good, like the teddy.”

“So, I’m the only one who has seen you in it?”

“Yes,” she said, “the only one. Buying things that made me feel good, led me to explore other things that made me feel good.”

He laid his fork down. “Tell me more,” he said, crossing his arms in front of him on the table.

“I began to read, to fantasize, and to explore myself. I know what makes me feel good.”

“But it’s my job to make you feel good.”

“Partially, and you are extremely good at giving me pleasure. But if I have more control over what makes me feel good, I’m more likely to go for it, and we are both more satisfied.”

“Wow,” he said. “I don’t know what you’ve been reading, but I’m glad you did.”

He stood to clear the table, and she openly ogled his flaccid cock.

“I like having a naked man at my table,” she said. “Let’s do it more often.”

He set the dishes in the sink and ran water over them.

Then, he turned to her, removing her robe.

“Let’s do what more often? This?” he said, squeezing her breasts. “This?” he asked, sucking on each nipple. “Or this?” he asked, putting his fingers between her legs and probing her.

“All of the above,” she said.

He bent to kiss her deeply.

“So explain to me about your ‘protection.’”

“I’m taking oral contraceptives for now,” she said. “After the results of our last heated weekend, I want to have the opportunity to make a choice.”

“Good idea,” he said, “although if you decide you don’t want to stay on them, we can work together on a solution.”

“That’s very gentlemanly of you,” she teased.

“I aims t’please, ma’am,” he responded.

“And you do,” she said. “You certainly do.”

# # #

She awoke at his side again a few hours later. She sat up, turning on her phone, and soon saw that she had multiple calls and messages from both Neil and Joy. She messaged both of them, saying, “Everything’s okay. I’ll get back with you when I can.” Then, she promptly turned the phone off again.

It was getting dark out, so she opened the drapes to the early onset of shimmering city lights. It was her favorite feature of the apartment.

She felt him slip up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She turned into him and he looked out the window over her head.

He saw a shadowy figure step out from behind a tree below and jumped aside, pulling her with him, just as a shot rang out, breaking the window. He pushed her into the bathroom.

“Get in the tub and lay down!” he commanded.

He crawled across the room, pulling his bag out from under her bed which he had retrieved from the truck while she slept.

He opened it and pulled out a gleaming Walther PK. He slid across the room and stood to the right of the door, pointing his weapon toward the ceiling.

A burst of automatic weapon fire came through the door, and then someone kicked it in. The assailant took one step over the threshold, and Lucas leveled his gun and blasted it.

The man fell forward onto the floor, dead, the bullet having gone clean through his brain from the left side to the right.

Lucas stepped over the body, thrusting outside, weapon first, then swung the gun in an arc as he looked from side to side.

There was no one other than residents cowering behind bushes or looking out their windows. In the not-too-far distance, sirens wailed.

Lucas stepped back inside and reholstered the gun. He couldn’t close the door as the body lay partially outside. He noticed the brown yoked shirt and wool pants. He lifted up the shoulder on the body and saw a U.S. Marshals badge. He dropped it back to the floor and saw a gun slung part way across the room.

He lay the holstered gun down on the table and walked to the bathroom door, opening it. She was sitting in the shower.

“I have no bathtub,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You can stay in here, or you can come out. There is a body in your doorway, and the police are on their way,” he said.

She just looked up at him, glazed with a bit of shock. “Help me,” she said.

He gave her one hand and used the other to support her under the arm. She got her feet underneath her and leaned on him. They walked out the bathroom door together just as two policemen arrived at the door.

The policemen stepped over the threshold, guns leveled at the two of them.

Lucas raised both hands, nodding to Audra to do the same.

“Lucas Roberts, retired Deputy U.S. Marshal. This is Elise Woodrow. I believe this man meant to do her harm.”

One of them noticed the gun on the floor.

“Is that your gun?”

“No, sir. My gun is in the holster on the table by the window.”

“Alright. You can put your hands down. Go ahead and sit on the bed if you like.”

“Just so you know,” Lucas said, “he is wearing a U.S. Marshals uniform.”

“You shot a Fed?” the policeman said, whirling toward Lucas. “Let’s see your badge.”

Lucas indicated his jacket that was over the back of the chair. The officer got it out and looked at it, showing it to his partner.

“Did you know this guy?”

“I’ve never seen him before, but his name might be James Michaelson,” said Lucas.

The policeman gave him a strange look then got on his radio.

“…you also need to call the U.S. Marshals service and get somebody in charge over here. Both victim and suspect have something to do with the Marshals Service.”

That was when they noticed the broken window and the bullets buried in the ceiling, as well as the automatic weapon holes in the door with the bullets in the wall over the bed.

“Expedite that last request,” the policemen said into his radio.

“Is it over?” Audra asked Lucas.

“Mostly,” Lucas replied.

# # #

“Jesus, Neil!” Joy shouted into the phone. “Get over to Elise’s. I’m watching the news. There are police all over the place, some on the stairs of her apartment, and her door is wide open. Oh, God! I can see feet sticking out the door.”

# # #

“I take responsibility for shooting the victim,” Lucas told the detective. “The woman had nothing to do with it.”

“Well, from the looks of things, I gather you were being shot at as well. I will need both of you to ride down to the station with me.”

Just then, a marshal and his deputy showed up at the door and were apprised of the situation. He looked at Lucas and then looked at the face of the victim. “Neither of these are my men,” he told the detectives.

“Who are you, son?” the marshal asked Lucas.

“Lucas Roberts, sir, retired U.S. Deputy Marshal.”

“From…?”

“I was retired out of Phoenix, but I’ve been living in Northern California.”

“And this is who?” the marshal asked, indicating the body, which was now being investigated by crime scene forensics personnel.

“I’m not sure, sir, but I believe it to be James Michaelson. He’s a fugitive from the Marshals service.”

“Fugitive…oh, right. I remember that coming across my desk a few…a few months ago now, wasn’t it?”

“I believe so, sir.”

The marshal turned around just as they were bundling the body onto a gurney to carry it downstairs.

“I would like a word alone with this man, please,” he said, looking at the detectives. “You can stand right outside the door.”

“I guess he’s not going anywhere unless he jumps out a window,” one detective said. The detectives dismissed the first responders and stepped out onto the stair landing. The ballistics forensics guy was nowhere near done, but he agreed to step out onto the patio since he had to take some measurements there anyway.

Once everyone was out, the marshal turned to Lucas. “What happened here?”

“Miss Woodrow was my charge before she came up here via the WITSEC program. I received a call yesterday morning that she might be in grave danger, so I came up to protect her.”

“Who called you?”

“Someone from the Phoenix Headquarters.”

“Why wasn’t I notified?”

Lucas cleared his throat. “I’m not sure why Phoenix didn’t notify you, sir. I wanted to assess first to make sure there actually was a threat before contacting anyone. Also, I am a private citizen and not under any obligation to contact you.”

“Well, we’ll see about that,” he said.

“I’ll find out whether or not this is Michaelson. But I’m not under any obligation to contact you once I find out.”

Touché,
Lucas thought.