Love Story (9 page)

“Want me to go with you?” “I was going to ask you to meet after, but yeah, that would be fun. Can you get away?”

“Easily. Crazy day here. I’ll tell you about it. Text me the address.”

“I will.”

“Ana, thanks for thinking
of me.”

“I think about you a lot, honey. I hope you’re well.”

“I am. See you soon.”

After the call, Elizabeita went in search of Nick. This was stupid. If she wanted to see him, since she hadn’t last night, she should go find him. She started with the Dali/Picasso exhibit area. He wasn’t there. Nor was he in other rooms where work was being done. Nothing. She was at the end of the
hall that housed the security office and saw him come out of it. With Director Davidson. They spoke for a bit. A strange feeling passed through her. Huh, that was odd.

Hands in his pockets, head down, he walked toward her, so deeply in thought that he nearly bumped into her. “Watch where you’re going, mister.”

He looked up, obviously distracted. But the pleasure on his face at seeing her
made her heart soar. “Hi.”

“Where were you?”

He glanced down the hall. “I was—I was called into security. Will Davidson’s interviewing the custodial staff who was on the floor yesterday.”

She cradled her elbows in front of her. “That was spooky.”

“Yeah. I got caught up in helping with stuff the rest of the day.”

“Hmm. Are you free tonight?”

“No.” Glancing around, he led
her into a little nook in the hallway. “I have to spend tonight with my mother and Mellie because they’re both going out of town tomorrow.” Lifting his hand, he brushed his knuckles down her cheek. She shivered, just from that slight contact. “For the whole weekend.”

“They are? So, what are you going to do with the free time?”

“That depends on you.”

“Man, I like the sound of that.
Whatever will we do?”

He chuckled. “We’ll think of something, Lizzie.”

Nick walked away from Elizabeita with mixed feelings. Though he’d known all along he’d ask to see her when Mellie and his mother were gone, he felt guilty about it.

This was so unlike him. The
him
he’d become after Angie died, anyway. That’s when he’d gotten old. Turned pessimistic and jaded. But
with Lizzie, he morphed into who he used to be, and he’d missed that guy. A lot.

Then, too, he was worried about hurting her. She cared about him. And he obviously cared about her. Still, he knew he wasn’t going to end what was between them until his stint was over at the Met, even if was a bad idea to keep this relationship going.

Ana smiled as her sister walked into
the doctor’s office. She appeared so grown-up today in a lightweight gray suit, pink blouse and heels, which were inches high. Ana wore a casual dress and beige flats. Baby over style for her.

“Hey, kiddo.” Ana stood, and they hugged.

Elizabeita hung on. She always did that, as if she was afraid to let go because something might happen to the other person. The tragedy that had befallen
the Ludzeckys affected each of them so much. Ana was eternally grateful for her rescue from the mess she and Jared had made of their lives afterward.

“Where’s Jared?” Elizabeita asked. “Doesn’t he usually come to the appointments?”

“He’s presenting at a conference in Illinois. On how to progressively teach Hawthorne.”

“Is that even possible?”

They both laughed

“You look wonderful,
honey.”

“Thanks.”

“Something’s different. Is there a guy in your life?”

Elizabeita blushed.

“There is!”

“Did Sofia tell you?”

“Does Sofia know?” “She guessed there was someone.”

“Share it with me, Lizzie. I feel less a part of your life than anybody’s.”

“Mrs. Creswell, the doctor will see you now.”

“Saved by the nurse.”

Once inside the office, Ana squeezed
her arm. “You can hear the baby’s heartbeat.”

Elizabeita stilled. “Wow.”

Not long after, Dr. Greg Beltran held the probe over Ana’s stomach, and they heard the thump-thump-thump of Ana’s second child. Every single time she heard this, Ana cried. And when she caught sight of her sister, who held her hand, she saw tears on Lizzie’s cheeks.

Hmm, Elizabeita rarely cried. Even as a kid,
she was tougher than nails. And Ana knew her better than anyone.

Was it the guy who softened her? Big sister simply had to know.

Nick had planned to leave work early today to pick Mellie up from school, but he stopped by the security office again on his way out. Will had reports in front of him.

“What are the results so far?”

“There’s nothing unusual on any staff
member’s computer in the Contemporary Art division except one.”

“Who is it?”

“Elizabeita Ludzecky. She replied to the person who’s been sending the crazy ones.”

His heart started to beat at a clip. “Does that mean something other than the fool woman was trying to trip up the emailer herself?”

“It could mean only that,” Will answered. “She’s also received more emails from the guy
than anybody else. Several she didn’t send to me.”

“She’s not involved in this, Will.”

“Probably not, given what you told me earlier about her background.”

“So why has she gotten more than the others?”

“Maybe she’s the target of the emailer.”

Nick gasped. Suddenly, the near cab accident took on a different meaning.

Lizzie went to one of Sofia’s yoga classes
last night because she’d been at loose ends. Nick was spending time with his family, and she didn’t want to be alone. While she waited for the class, she read through a magazine and came across an article entitled “The Sensations of Touch.” It gave her ideas. She picked up a few things she’d need after class.

Lizzie waited all day Friday to implement her plan, and was nearly breathless with
anticipation when she opened the door at five that evening. Nick wore a navy blazer, a light blue shirt with pressed jeans. His eyes picked up every shade of blue he wore. He carried a small duffle bag. She said, “You look like a million bucks.”

“So do you.” She’d chosen a one-piece lounger thing she’d bought when she’d shopped with Magdalena. “I love the orange color.” He grasped a lock of
hair. “Matches the streaks.”

“It’s called coral and I like it, too. Come on in.” He walked inside and Elizabeita got dizzy. Just his presence made her head spin. It must be from the excitement of being with him again, knowing they had the weekend together. She gestured to the bag. “You can put that in the bedroom.”

Instead, he dropped it to the floor, grasped her around the waist and lifted
her. He kissed her, a hard, possessive one, which she relished.

“Wow, what brought that on?”

His expression shadowed. But he said, “I’m glad to be with you.”

“No caveats on how we have to keep this casual?”

“Not tonight.”

Her heart swelled with intense emotion. “I feel the same.”

“I want to talk to you about what happened yesterday at work.”

“Let’s sit and have a drink,
then.”

They settled on the couch with a glass of wine and a Scotch. “You need to be careful at and around work from now on.”

“Because of the emailer. I know that if he shut down the computers, it shows he’s stepping things up. Plus, if he has that capability, he isn’t an ordinary kook.”

“That’s right.”

“I also responded to him initially. I thought I could talk him out of his dislike
of modern art.” She winked. “Like I did you.”

He didn’t take the bait.

“It was odd having Cyber Crimes go through my computer.”

“I’ll bet. Until they find something, you have to be careful.”

Angling herself on the couch, she said, “Nick, I don’t get all this. The Met is an important building to the county. To the world, actually. If there was some real plot against it, and not
a few crank emails, why hasn’t Homeland Security been called in?”

“I’d guess because it doesn’t rise to the threat level of even green, the lowest. And if some intervention was needed, they’d start smaller.”

“Like Cyber Crimes.”

“Yes, and then escalate if it’s warranted. Nobody’s broached the Met’s security until yesterday. Before that, the guy only got email addresses, which wouldn’t
take an expert to do. If it’s gone further, you’ll see more things happening.”

“I hope the place doesn’t turn into Fort Knox.”

“I doubt it will.”

“They’d probably come in undercover, wouldn’t they?”

He grew even more serious, and he reached for her hand, kissed it. “Don’t go writing a James Bond novel yet. Be careful, is all.”

“I promise. Now, let’s not discuss anything else
unpleasant this weekend.”

“I agree.” He sipped his drink. “What would you like to talk about now?”

“Funny you should ask. I want to talk about something else, but not using words.”

His dark brows rose. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, you will, mister. You will.”

Propped up on the headboard of her bed, Nick watched Elizabeita. When they’d gotten to the bedroom, he’d
found it lit with candles. All around the room. The scent was sexy. They hadn’t undressed completely. She’d taken off that one-piece thing with the sensuousness of a harem girl and helped him remove his shirt and jeans. Wearing only black briefs, matching in color to her almost-nothing bra and panties, he grinned at her. In the two weeks since he’d met her, he’d never known what to expect. And
he hadn’t realized he liked that so much. After Angie died, he only wanted the routine. Surprises meant tragedy.

“Tonight’s about touching. So don’t talk unless you have to.”

“I can do that.”

She pointed to the magazine spread open next to them. “The first kind is called nurturing touch.” She was lying on a mound of pillows, so she was stretched out, too, like that fantasy men have
of women. Picking up his bare foot, she began to massage his instep. He jerked forward at the intense pleasure that shot from the extremity to all parts of him. She continued, increasing the pressure. Eventually, he sat back and sighed. And moaned. And groaned. She paid the same attention to the other foot, and Nick lost himself in sensation. He’d had full-body massages before, but no other woman
had ever done
this
for him. He let her go on too long, he was sure, but he couldn’t help it. Finally, he forced himself to ask, “Want me to return the favor?”

“Not yet. There’s more in store for you.”

For several minutes, Nick drifted in a stupor. Finally, he sat up. “Come on. Your turn.”

When she laid back, he took one of her feet. It was small and delicate, words he’d never associated
with her. Her eyes closed, her breath evened out, her entire body went boneless. Stupidly proud of himself, he kept it up until she stopped him. “On to the next one.”

He reached for the magazine and read the kinds of touch. “The next is playful touch, like wrestling, tickling, growling.”

“Let’s skip that one.”

He read further. “Passionate touching. Short bursts of energy that disarm
your partner.”

“I love surprises.”

“I’ll remember that. It involves unexpected full-body hugs. Out-of-the-blue squeezes of the buttocks. Face cradling. You can do that to me anytime, babe.”

She laughed. And the devil danced in her eyes. “The next is sensual touching.”

“Of course it is. That’s what this is leading up to, right?”

“No. The
last
one is sexual touching. Learning
your partner’s erogenous zones.”

“I think we’ve got that covered.”

“We’re nowhere near there yet. Lay flat out on your stomach.”

She straddled him and started with light pressure on his shoulders. After a while, she dug her fingers into his muscles. He hadn’t realized how tight they were. He’d been missing workouts during this assignment. “You can go a little harder.” She did, for
another few minutes. Then she eased off him and the bed.

“I’ll be right back.”

When she returned, he opened one eye. “What’d you get?”

Without answering, she knelt next to him and put something warm on his upper back.

“Man, Lizzie, that’s sinful.”

“Change in temperature awakens the body.”

“I don’t think I have that problem with you, hot stuff.”

“Hush.”

While the
towel soothed his muscles, she ran her fingers down his spine. Slow at first. Then she did it quickly and exerted more pressure. “The article says to change the tempo.”

“Lucky me.”

After a moment, she leaned over him and opened the nightstand drawer. “What are you doing?”

“Keep your eyes closed.”

He heard a buzz. She spread his legs and then something touched the inside of his
thigh. Something vibrating. “Holy shit, Lizzie, is that…?”

“Yep. It is. Now enjoy. We have the whole weekend to spend like this.”

Nick was sure he’d died and gone to heaven. Suddenly, all he could think about was her and what she was doing to him.

And he couldn’t remember the last time he was this happy.

Elizabeita basked in the sunshine Saturday morning, almost as much as she’d basked in Nick’s attention last night. Using the article on touch had been fun, and they’d taken two hours with it. The culmination, so to speak, had come swift and hard. Just thinking about it made her breathless. And on this beautiful day, with his arm around her waist, she could ask for
nothing more.

She said, “I can’t believe the Big Momma”—aka The Cyclone at Coney Island—“is still active.”

He tugged her close. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. “It was built in 1927 and has undergone extensive reconstruction.”

“I hope so. I’d hate to lose you off the—how long is it?”

Holding up the brochure, he read the description. “Two thousand six hundred and forty feet
of track, featuring twelve drops and twenty-seven elevation changes.”

“You’ve been here before, right?”

“Many times as a kid. My brothers and sisters would beg my parents to bring us. Then when Angie…”