Chapter 21. Cover-Up

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The water in the bottom of the sink was pink.

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Sean had pulled his gloves off only once we reached the hotel room in Paris.  We wouldn’t be staying long—not even spending the night.  We would be on a plane back to Sunset Valley in two hours.  The vase was already at the airport.  It would be handled by a service that specialized in the transport and security of valuable artwork.

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I couldn’t stop looking with horrified fascination at the bruises that ringed his neck.  As severe as Sean’s injuries seemed they were nothing to the broken jaw sported by Gravois’s bodyguard.  The man had simply walked into the study at an opportune time, and had found Sean and Monique standing there, obviously about to steal the vase.  Though the bodyguard was soon incapacitated, Gravois had managed to get Sean into a chair and tied up.

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He’d pulled a gun on him, and told him that he had me in another room–that he’d kill me if Sean didn’t comply.

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Sean hadn’t quite believed him, but he also hadn’t been willing to take the chance.

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I peered at Sean’s reflection in the mirror to catch his eyes.

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“Hey—you get the shower first, okay?” I suggested.

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“Thanks.  You brought makeup, right?” Sean asked.

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“Uh, yeah.” I said, then went into the bedroom to retrieve it.  Sean thanked me and I left him in the bathroom so he could shower and cover up his bruises.

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We’d wasted no time leaving the village with the vase, once we rendezvoused at the car.  Our bags had already been packed and ready to go.  Sean had talked to Nick and brought him up to speed while I drove us to Paris.  Nick had booked our flights and we rented a hotel room near the airport so that we could shower and change into fresh clothes before boarding.  Monique had gone her own way long before I’d reached the car, and Sean had assured me that she was fully capable of disappearing on her own.

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“How do I look?  Can you see anything?” Sean asked.  He’d just finished his shower, and I could smell the shampoo he’d used as he came closer.

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“Not bad—your eye still looks a little bruised, but I’m really looking for it.  The scratch doesn’t look terrible.”  I replied.

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“I concentrated mostly on covering up the neck bruising.” Sean said, giving a small smile.  His scarf and the higher collar of his jacket helped cover it up, and I was glad.  I hated seeing the bruises at all, but the ones on his neck were definitely the worst.

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“I guess I should hop in the shower.” I said, getting up.

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“You know…” Sean began, “I was going to give you hell for coming in after me, but….I can’t.”

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“Oh?” I said.

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“Yeah.  I’d feel like a hypocrite.  I would have come in after you.” Sean said, and his eyes were warm with affection. “Plus, I was just so damn happy to have confirmation that Gravois had lied.”

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I felt my eyes well up with tears, and I blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.  Tough detectives don’t cry.

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Before I could remind myself that it was probably a bad idea, I had my arms around Sean and I clutched him to me like a treasured thing.  He could have died.

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I knew that he’d freed himself and that he would likely have been able to escape the castle on his own with a little bit of luck, but it had still been a close call.  He wouldn’t have left that castle until he’d checked every room and had been absolutely certain that I wasn’t there, and that could have cost him precious time.

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He let me hold him like that and I took comfort in the fact that his damp hair was threaded through my fingers.  He was here and he was safe.  For now.

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Back to self-preservation mode….I thought, and pulled back, affecting a joking demeanor.

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“Whatever—you’re just being nice because you like the way I look in a maid’s uniform.” I replied.

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Sean laughed, and shook his head.

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“Actually, I don’t like the whole French maid thing.   In general, my fantasies don’t involve a servile, submissive role, or someone I’m paying.   They involve confident, intelligent women, like….a quick-thinking detective and colleague.” Sean said, giving me a significant look.

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Suddenly, Sean moved a lot closer.

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“Though…..the stockings were nice.  You should wear those all the time.” he said softly.

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I drew in a shaky breath as he slid his hands up and down my arms.  He was so close and I stared at his chin.  I couldn’t muster up the courage to look into his eyes.  I was trembling, just a little….and I knew he could feel it.  It wasn’t from fear or being cold…just nerves and excitement.

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“Eddie…look at me.” he whispered.  I finally glanced up and watched as he bent his head closer to mine.

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My eyelids slid shut as his lips moved over mine.  I couldn’t think of anything, but I was feeling everything—his nose nuzzling the side of mine, the satiny warmth of his mouth.  I was hyperaware of the heat from his body and the rhythm of his breathing.

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After a moment, I realized that I could think of something.

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There is a bed in this room.

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“Thank you.” Sean murmured almost against my mouth.  He’d pulled back just far enough that our lips were no longer touching.

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“For what?” I asked dazedly, my eyes still closed.  His mouth was hovering so close to mine, like he was still deciding whether to continue kissing me or to pull back further.

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“For saving our mission—and for coming to my rescue.” he said, flashing a dreamy smile once my eyes finally opened.  He stepped back, but he was staring at my mouth.

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“Uh…shower.  I should….take a shower.” I said hoarsely, almost stumbling in my effort to back away from him.

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A very cold shower….I amended, mentally.

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• May 8, 2010
• An Edith Prescott Mystery: Story 2
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