Touched by Lightning [Dreams of You] (Romantic Suspense) Page 5

  “No, he’s a stray. But I brought him here.”

  “We always allow a certain amount each month to take care of strays. Luckily, we haven’t used this month’s kitty yet, so you’re covered.”

  An hour later, the doctor reappeared with Crackers in his arms. The dog’s head lolled to the side, and his tongue stuck out between his teeth.

  “He’s still groggy, but I think he’s fine to go home now.”

  Adrian took the dog. Nikki walked up to Crackers and stroked his head. “Thank you,” she said to both the doctor and the woman.

  As they left the veterinarian’s office, Adrian said, “I think this dog has gained five pounds since we brought him in.”

  With a cold chill, she realized she had a problem: how to get the dog home without revealing to Adrian where she lived.

  “I, uh, don’t—the shelter. Let’s take him to the Lord’s Shelter.” Her mind was working frantically as she walked beside him. When they reached the shelter, she said, “Wait here while I talk to Dave. I know he’s not going to like this, but it’s only for a short time.”

  Lunch was being served, and the smell of vegetable soup reminded her stomach that it hadn’t been fed yet today. She found Dave behind the long, stainless-steel counter dishing up soup to a line of cold, hungry people.

  He noticed her frantic expression and motioned for her to come around behind him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to ask you a big favor. I saw a dog get hit by a car today—he’s okay,” she added quickly at Dave’s expression of worry. “But I’ve got to take care of him until his leg heals.”

  “You know we can’t allow pets in here, Nikki,” he said in that kind but authoritarian tone of his.

  “I wouldn’t ask you that. I just need to leave him here until I can pick him up. It’s too far to carry him to where I live.”

  “You’ll be back today?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “Take him into my office and use the entrance outside. He doesn’t have fleas, does he?”

  She twisted her lips, not wanting to lie to the man who was studying for the ministry. “If any get in your office, I’ll hunt them down and remove them from the premises.”

  He laughed, dishing another bowl of soup. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Dave’s office looked dim and orangey from the sparse light filtering through the curtains. Nikki grabbed some towels from the back room and made a bed in the corner. Adrian knelt down and settled Crackers on the pile of old towels. The dog whimpered, but his eyes remained closed. Adrian felt a stab of guilt again, wishing for the umpteenth time that he’d taken another route to his secret parking spot.

  Nikki knelt down beside him, stroking the pup’s paw with her slender fingers. Adrian turned, finding her closer than he thought. The sleeve of her coat touched his sleeve, though he was sure she didn’t know. Even bundled in her drab coat with her hair pulled back, the orange glow of sunlight streaming down over her made her look like an angel. For an unguarded moment, as she gazed at the sleeping puppy, her green eyes were filled with emotion. Her lower lip trembled so slightly that if he hadn’t been crouched only inches from her face, he would have missed it.

  “He’ll be all right,” he assured her, feeling a strange urge to take her in his arms and comfort her. Instead, he placed his hand over hers as it rested on the dog’s paw.

  She didn’t move away, as he expected, but he heard her slight intake of breath. The warmth between their hands intensified, and she looked up at him. There was such question in her eyes, and he wished he could answer whatever it was that she wondered. She removed her hand from beneath his, but he couldn’t pull his eyes from hers.

  “Thanks for your help.” She stood quickly and turned around. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back later.” She glanced at the puppy, then back to him. “Goodbye.”

  Adrian knew she meant that word in more than a casual sense. It would be easier for him to bid her the same and return to his life. This woman of mystery, his BlueFire, did not seem to want his help, or his friendship. She avoided his gaze every time he looked at her, crossed her arms in front of herself—everything to tell him to keep his distance. He closed the door behind them, stepping out into the afternoon sun. She headed down the sidewalk and turned right, probably heading back to the Laundromat to get her clothes.

  In the sun, her hair had a strawberry hue beneath the webbed strands of shawl still covering it. She didn’t look back at him, but cautiously glanced behind her before disappearing around the building.

  He couldn’t leave her, not until he found out why she was in danger. Maybe he could help, once he gained her trust. He followed the direction she had taken, taking his time so she would pass where his rental car was hidden.

  Nikki closed her eyes briefly as she walked, enjoying the sun on her face. She held her hand to her cheek, her fingers still tingling from Adrian’s touch. Then she shook it, chastising herself for the silly notion. He was a handsome man who cared about animals as she did. Soon he would be gone, and, judging from the way her heart’s rhythm had shot up when he touched her, the sooner the better. In any case, she couldn’t afford to befriend him.

  When she glanced behind her, she saw him following a block behind. That cold fear crawled through her veins. She had long ago learned not to show dread to the young men who hung on the street corners looking for customers, like the man on her left. They had stopped bothering her shortly after her arrival. But the handsome man who had come out of nowhere, who was following her, struck real fear into her. She glanced back again—he was still there.

  “Want some crack, pretty lady?” The man called to her as she approached.

  Nikki wasn’t worried about Adrian seeing her going to the Laundromat to retrieve her laundry, if it hadn’t been stolen. Her next stop, though, was her van, parked in an alley nearby. She had to get Crackers, and she couldn’t let anybody see her get into that van.

  As she passed the drug dealer, she whispered, “Ask that man back there. He was looking for some.” That should hold Adrian up for a minute or two.

  CHAPTER 4

  When Adrian saw the sleazy man speak to Nikki, his protective instinct urged him to rush up and guard her. His common sense stopped him as his muscles tensed for action. After all, she had lived there for however long and seemed capable of taking care of herself. She actually looked more concerned about him, evidenced by her worried glances backward. Sure, he wanted to know where she slept at night, to make sure it was someplace safe, but right now his concern was getting to his car before she saw him anywhere near it. His plan was to take off as she disappeared around the corner. Then he would drive in the opposite direction, keeping a careful look out for dogs.

  The man ambled up, purposely intersecting Adrian’s path on the cracked sidewalk. Adrian glanced at the storefronts to his right, considering walking into a store before reaching trouble. The entire strip was vacated, the only sign of life being the piles of newspapers the homeless used when they slept in the alcoves at night. Rearing up to his full height of six foot two, much taller than the man, he charged ahead.

  “You want crack,” the man stated. “I got the best, the purest. Come ‘round back with me.”

  The man was close enough for his week-old sweat to taint the air. He started to touch Adrian’s arm, as though to escort him around back of the building he’d indicated with a nod of his head.

  Adrian lifted his arm, giving the man a look that made him back away. “Don’t touch me. I’m not interested.”

  He raised his arms. “Sorry, man. The girl said you wanted something.”

  Adrian glanced up at Nikki, who was now reaching the alley where his car was parked. He nodded in her direction. “That girl?”

  “Uh-huh. You a cop or something?” The man backed further away, tensed to run.

  Adrian was too baffled to care. He looked at Nikki again, who was staring into the alleyway, her posture stiff. Damn, she’d seen his car. Why had
she even bothered to look, especially if she was telling drug dealers he was interested so she could get away from him? Glancing back at him, she looked startled, then continued across the street.

  It bothered Adrian that she was that afraid of him. What had he done to produce that kind of distrust? The second she rounded the corner, he shot into action, turning down the alley and jumping into his car. The van was still parked there, but he scarcely took note except to assure himself he hadn’t blocked it in.

  He quickly combed his hair into a ponytail and slipped on his sunglasses before pulling out. Instead of staying on the main street, he went a block west, into a lower-class neighborhood, and then south. Most of the houses in the area where tiny, smaller than his studio back home. The bars on the windows and patched wooden fences attested to the safety of the area. It was with great relief that he drove over the bridge leading to prestigious Palm Beach a few minutes later. Freshly painted plazas were filled with shops and people carrying designer shopping bags.

  This is crazy, Wilde. She obviously doesn’t want you around. It’s a god-awful place to be. Go home. Forget about her.

  As he drove down the street of perfectly trimmed hedges and swaying palm trees, he muttered, “I wish I could.” The decision was already beyond his control.

  The bells tinkled as Nikki slipped into the Garcia Gallery later that day. Ulyssis was studying something on the counter but looked up and smiled when he saw her.

  “I didn’t expect to see you so soon, Nicolina. You didn’t spend all that money already, did you?”

  “No, I…I don’t know, I’m just restless, I guess.”

  She walked over to inspect the next collection of photographs by the mysterious Nicolina. Ulyssis had framed them beautifully, as always, using an understated gray with white matting. They always sold for reasonable prices, and Ulyssis only deducted the cost of the frame. That was something she insisted on, otherwise he would have given her all the money. She always took Maudine out to dinner at the Seashell Diner with the first of the profits, sort of a tithe. But Maudine hadn’t been around lately.

  “They came out nice, yes?”

  “Yes.” She turned to him. “Has that man been back? The one who bought the last collection.”

  “No sign of him. It was probably nothing more than my suspicions, as you said.”

  “I have a pet,” she said, wanting to change the subject. “A puppy. Crackers.”

  He raised a thin, dark eyebrow. “How can you keep a pet in your van? Especially a dog.”

  “A big dog, or he will be. I’m not keeping him, just nursing him back to health.” She told him about the accident. “A man helped me. He came to our rescue, carrying Crackers all the way to the animal hospital.”

  Ulyssis eyed her strangely. “A man?”

  “Yes, a man. He’s very nice, and I could tell he cared about the puppy’s welfare.”

  “Who is this man?”

  “His name is Adrian Nash. He came from New Jersey for a job his friend had told him about, but they were both gone when he got here. I guess he sleeps at the shelter.”

  He seemed to study her. “I haven’t seen you smile that way in a long time.”

  Nikki tried to wipe any expression from her face, not even realizing she had been smiling. “It’s not like that. Yes, he’s handsome. I guess I haven’t seen a man like that in a long time. He’ll be gone soon.”

  “What does this man look like?”

  “He’s tall, with dark, curly hair to his shoulders and brown eyes.” She realized then that she was smiling and stopped. Ridiculous. Dangerous. “Are you thinking of the guy who bought my photographs”

  “He was tall, though his hair was straight and shorter, I believe.”

  “Did he have a beard?”

  “No, but a man can grow a beard.” Ulyssis rubbed his own long chin. “Well, some men can. They’re close, Nicolina. Stay away from him. Isn’t it strange that a man comes in asking about a woman who looks like you, buys your photographs, and then soon after a man with similar features shows up on the streets?”

  “Maybe.” She took a deep breath, feeling a tremor inside. “Don’t worry. He may be handsome, but I’m not in love with him or anything like that.”

  “Then stop smiling every time you speak about him.”

  “I’m only smiling because I’m glad you worry about me. At least someone does.” She squeezed his hands. “I don’t plan to see him again, okay? I’m going to avoid that area for the next day or so, and he’ll probably be gone when I return.”

  “Check in with me next week, so I know you’re still alive. I worry about you out there by yourself. I wish you’d move into my apartment.”

  “I’m not by myself. Right now I have a puppy, though he’s hardly a threat when all he wants to do is lick my face and cuddle in my lap.” She already knew it was going to be hard to put him back on the streets again when his leg healed. “And I can’t move in with you. I refuse to disrupt your life like that.”

  “I know, I know. Be careful.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Don’t let him into your heart.”

  “What the hell are you doing down there? We got enough muff up here in New York City to last you a lifetime. You don’t need to go down south for it.”

  Adrian held the phone away from his ear for second, picturing the short, balding man with the horn-rimmed glasses he considered a fashion statement. “Stan,” Adrian tried to cut into the Stanley Fiske tirade. He was the manager of Dreams in Color, the ad agency Adrian did most of his work through. “I’m not chasing muff. Jeez, is that all you ever think about?”

  “No, I also think a great deal about money. Making it, specifically. But we are not talking about what I’m thinking about, we are talking about what you’re thinking about. What are you thinking about? Why aren’t you in New York City making thousands of dollars a week for us?”

  “Aren’t I entitled to a vacation?”

  “Sure you are,” he said sweetly. “When you give me a week’s notice! You just now decide to call and let me know you’re in the middle of some cockeyed vacation? It’s crazy.”

  “This is why I’m self-employed, Stan. So I don’t have to answer to anybody.”

  “You’re self-employed so you can become the best damn photographer in the business. That means being available, and giving people notice when you decide it’s time for a break.”

  Adrian laughed, refusing to let the little son of a bitch get to him. “Have you been drinking darkroom chemicals again, Stan? You’re uptight.”

  “I’ll have you know I haven’t touched a drink for five days. That’s a record, but if you keep this up, I’ll have to make myself a martini. You want to ruin my wagon record?”

  “Don’t give me that. What’s going on?”

  “All right,” Stan said, taking a calm breath. “Calvin Klein wants you to do the next layout for their briefs. Be back in the City tomorrow morning. They want to meet with you and brainstorm some ideas.”

  Adrian sipped a glass of wine, enjoying the feel of his silk shirt and his cologne he overdosed on after scrubbing away all the sadness and hopelessness that had touched him that day. He glanced at the old clothes he discarded the minute he stepped into the house, still lying in a heap on the tile by the front door. But to return to the high life wasn’t tempting enough to leave Nikki without at least trying to help her.

  “Stanley, put them off for a week. They can wait. Or someone else can do the layout. I got some emergency business to take care of.”

  Stanley put on the whiny voice he used when he got desperate, like in the early days when it was tampons they wanted photographed, not pretty woman. “Adrian, they want you. I told them they could have you, and tomorrow is the day they chose. How can I go back to them and say you changed your mind?”

  “Tell them my wife left me and my dog died.”

  “Sheesh, you sound like a bad country song.”

  “I’ll be back next Wednesday night. First thing Thursda
y will do the brainstorming.”

  “All right. They want to messenger you some preliminary sketches.”

  Adrian found the cottage’s address and gave it to him. “I’ll take a look and come up with some ideas.”

  “So, is everything all right? You got me worried, taking off like this. You don’t do this kind of thing.”

  “I told you, it’s my wife and dog thing.”

  “You don’t have a wife,” Stan said.

  “I don’t have a dog either,” he said, though he thought of Crackers. “Bye, Stan.”

  His next call was to Rita. When he’d left, it was with only a quick call to ask her to watch Oscar and a promise to take her out to dinner when he returned, which he left vague. Now that he had a deadline of sorts, he could firm things up with her.

  Once he’d given her the timeline, he said, “Thanks again for taking care of Oscar. Sure you don’t want a cat?”

  She laughed. “Oh, no, you don’t. He’s my best reason for seeing you these days.” Her tone became serious again. “Adrian, what are you doing?”

  “Taking care of business,” he said, refusing to lie to her. Equally refusing to answer her.

  “Are you staying at a hotel where I can reach you?”

  “No, I had to rent this house for the whole month when I came down for the shoot, so I’m using the rest of the time.”

  “Did you meet someone while you were down there? I have no rights to you, but I’d like to know.”

  “I met up with an old friend who needs some help. Thanks, Rita.”

  The next morning Adrian reluctantly slipped out of his thick terry road and into brown corduroys and a brand-new undershirt beneath the faded black sweatshirt. He ruffled his fingers through his hair, mussing it. As he passed the hall mirror, he did what he promised himself he wouldn’t do: look. Cringing, he rubbed his beard and studied himself. Well, he fit into the homeless class, all right. Except for the hopelessness. Even when he had been on the verge of homelessness, and too young to do anything about it, he had never lost hope. Even when Elio had kicked him around some and his mother never said a word to stop him, Adrian harbored only hatred and a fierce desire to free himself as soon as he could. He had never lost hope. Only his pride. With a smirk, Adrian realized he was losing that again. He shook his head and left.