Kicking It(70)

“New York’s sup department. They have that business tied down.”

“Have them check the Green Clare, find Danny,” I said. “Ensure this is done. That Rachel’s safe.”

“Guys?” Luc said.

“On it,” said the long-faced man.

I looked down at Luc on his knees beside me, and could hardly fathom the fact that he was here, how lucky I was that he’d come, that I had a second chance, that I was alive.

But my brain did not pass those thoughts on to my mouth, which was still playing good ol’ commitment-phobic Lindsey. “I told you not to come!”

“Yes, you did,” Luc said. “I ignored you.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“In which case, you’d be full of bullet holes, which I do not find attractive in a woman.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “How did you find me?”

“Your phone. I added GPS, remember? Jeff helped me do the tracking. He is unusually good at tracking.”

Jeff Christopher was a friend of the House, and an employee of Merit’s grandfather, who’d previously been city’s supernatural ombudsman.

I heard a series of snaps, and my wrists were free, sending fierce pain through my shoulders. When my feet were unchained, I put a hand on Luc to stand up.

“Um, no,” he said, leaning down and lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“You’re actually going to carry me?”

“Without a doubt, Lindsey Rose.” He looked at me, his face furrowed with concern. “You’re all right?”

“I’ll manage,” I said, but tears still spilled. “I thought she was dead, Luc. I thought they were all dead. I never would have left—”

“Hush,” he said. “Hush. Of course you wouldn’t have left them. You’d have done everything you could to help them, to get them out of there alive. Even as young as you were. And even before my skilled tutelage.”

“You’re ruining this lovely moment.”

He laughed, just a little. “Come on, Rose. Let’s get you a bath. You smell like a walking gin and tonic.”

“I could use a gin and tonic.”

“I can make that happen.”

—

This time the hotel was considerably nicer. We skipped the Rookery for the Plaza, a present from Ethan and Merit to speed my recovery. I recouped in the shower, washing away blood and grime and gin.

When I emerged from the locker room–sized bathroom, my wounds already healing, I found Luc across the room, standing in front of a table and eating chocolate-covered strawberries from a silver tray.

I wore the only pajamas I’d packed, a lacy tank top and short set in a pale peach silk. Luc put down the paper and met my gaze.

The atmosphere was awkward, at best.

“I pushed you away,” I said.

“You did,” he carefully answered.

“You came anyway.”

He ran a hand through his curls. “I can’t shake you, Linds. As much as you push me away, I can’t shake you. I don’t want to shake you. I want you—all of you. If I can’t have that, then I don’t know . . .”

It didn’t matter that he didn’t know.

I knew enough for both of us.

I ran to him, jumped into his waiting arms, and wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. And then I kissed him like I might never have another chance.

“Don’t you ever . . . leave me . . . again,” I demanded between kisses.

“You told me to leave you,” he pointed out, between pulling me harder against his growing—and impressive—erection and nipping at my lips.

The kiss deepened, grew breathless. It wasn’t just love. It was need.

Tears slipped from my eyes with the realization—no, the admission—of how much I needed him, how much he centered me, how much better I was when we were together.

“I love you,” I said, pulling back and putting my hands on his cheeks, making him look at me and see the emotion reflected in my face.

And I felt it from him, too, magnified and illuminated. Not just because he loved me, but because—fully and finally—he trusted that I loved him back and that his heart was as safe in my hands as mine was in his.

He looked utterly awed. “Christ, Lindsey. I love you, too.”

We looked at each other for a moment, until his eyes dropped to my lips and we attacked each other again. I gripped handfuls of his hair, tugging until his throat rumbled in a growl, sending white-hot heat through my body. Luc fixed his mouth on mine—sucking, biting, tasting—and maneuvered my body until my back was against the wall and the friction between us had me on the edge of a brutal orgasm.