Last Call by Sarah Ballance Read Free Book Online Page B

and bolt
the door behind me."
    Rhys rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir. Anything
else?"
    He hesitated a moment, long enough for a storm
front to move in, shadowing the light in his eyes. "Yeah. You can
tell Corey, whoever the hell he is, to kiss my ass."

Chapter Six
     
    Rhys spent a solid minute staring at the door
after Nick disappeared.
    Nick was jealous. He was jealous and he knew about
Corey. She didn't remember the dream this time, but she had them
often — warm memories sweeping her back to happier times. Then
she'd awaken and all the joy she'd touched exploded into painful,
twisting loss when she realized Corey was still gone. She must have
said something in her sleep. And Nick had kissed her anyway. Holy
hell.
    Her entire body trembled with the
shock of his touch and the desire it ignited. And for what? He was
only there because he carried some misplaced sense of obligation
toward her — brought on by guilt, no doubt — and as soon as they
dug out of this mess, he'd disappear again. He'd already proven he
could walk away when she needed him most. But he didn't owe her
anything, and she didn't want his guilt or his pity. As for not
wanting him … well,
she'd have to work on that. The effort had just taken several
serious steps backward as evidenced by the ache throbbing deep
inside, but she'd move on.
    First, though, she had to reclaim her
life.
    Rhys glanced to her shoulder. The blood had
spread considerably, an ugly stain on the bright white robe. The
sight sickened her, tipping her usually ironclad stomach to the
squeamish side. She headed for the bathroom where she'd left her
clothes, stopping en route to close the door latch behind Nick, and
began the task of rinsing away the blood with a cold washcloth. The
icy water numbed the wound, but did little for the shadow creeping
over her heart.
    She loved Nick.
    Maybe one day she'd tell him about Corey, but
not any time soon.
    Outside the bathroom, the door
rattled. Rhys sucked in a breath, forcing calm through her nervous
synapses. Nick had her jittery and out of sorts. It was probably
just the maid trying to get in. Why hadn't either of them thought
to hang the Do Not Disturb placard?
    The rattling ceased. Rhys peeked from the
bathroom to see the knob turning. The entry door cracked open,
stopping with a clatter when the latch caught. She held her breath
and subconsciously tightened the ruined robe. The world stood
amorphously silent until a click shattered the fog. A thin metal
piece breached the opening and nimbly plucked the latch from its
sleeve.
    Rhys quickly ducked into the bathroom, pulling
the door to the frame without risking the noise of shutting it
fully. She hit the light and stood in the dark, listening as
muffled footsteps crossed the carpet, well past the bathroom door.
The low rumble of drawers opening sounded. Rhys quickly did the
math, ascertaining she had enough time to slip into her jeans
before the search of the bureau ended. She made quick time of
getting dressed in the dark, grateful for the embrace of Nick's
sweatshirt — and that she'd left her dirty clothes in the bathroom
after showering the night before.
    Outside in the room, her guest spilled
profanity. He or she had already proven to be less than diligent
and silence didn't appear to be much of a consideration,
either.
    Rhys balanced on the balls of her feet, trying
to decide if she should make a run for it. Blind decisions usually
required cooperation with her gut instincts, and at the moment her
gut was so turned inside out from her encounter with Nick she
didn't trust it for anything. She had no way of knowing if someone
waited outside the room, or how long she had before the intruder
thought to check the bathroom. Clearly the guy wasn't looking for
her — not unless he thought she'd be stuffed in a drawer. The
entire situation left more questions than answers.
    She had to get to a computer.
    And she had to come clean to Nick. Her digging
in the past might well have dragged him down