How to Trap a Tycoon(66)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

"Edie, wait!" Lucas called after her.

But the exclamation got lost under the sound of a slammed passenger side door.

"Dammit," he muttered as he reached for his own door.

He didn’t catch up with her until he hit the second floor of the building and saw her jamming her key into her front lock. Quickly, Lucas strode forward and, without thinking, moved behind her and thrust his hand against the door. It landed spread open wide with a loud thump, and although his body never made contact with hers, at his abrupt appearance, Edie leaped backward. The front door halted her, but that didn’t prevent her from crowding herself back against it. And it didn’t stop her from looking terrified.

It didn’t stop her from being terrified.

Because, clearly, she was terrified, Lucas noted. Her lips were parted fractionally, her chest was rising and falling with her rapid respiration, and her eyes were wide with apprehension.

"Don’t hurt me," she said softly. "Please."

Lucas’s own heart began to pound fiercely then at the evidence of what lay before him. Evidence of what he had suspected since that night he’d had too much to drink at Drake’s. Somebody—who knew who, who knew why, who knew how long ago—had obviously mistreated Edie Mulholland and mistreated her badly. It didn’t bear thinking about, but he knew that, at some point, he’d have to think about it. At the moment, however, he could only try and see clear of the red haze of rage that clouded his vision and do his best to calm her down.

"Edie, I would never hurt you," he said softly. More than anything in the world, he wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, but he knew that was the last thing she would tolerate. "You have to know that. I would never—I could never—hurt you."

"Just let me go inside," she said. "And then go away. Please, Lucas. Just leave me alone."

As much as he hated to retreat from her when she was like this, he knew she was too frightened for him to try reasoning with her. So he took a giant step back and held both hands up before him, palms out, in a gesture of surrender, of supplication. For a moment, she didn’t move at all, only eyed him warily, as if she couldn’t believe he’d done what she told him to do, as if she still expected him to pounce. Then, very slowly, she turned to the door again and twisted her key in the lock.

"Edie, let’s talk about this," he said as she began to push the door open. "Let’s not let the night end this way."

She said nothing as she ducked inside her apartment, but she didn’t immediately slam the door and lock it, as Lucas would have guessed she would. Instead, she hesitated, standing framed by the doorway and half hidden by the door she had tucked herself behind. Her breathing was much less rapid now, and her eyes were no longer darkened with fear. But her cheeks were stained with red, and the hand clutching the door was white-knuckled and trembling. She was still frightened, he thought. Maybe not of him, but of something that prevented her from seeing him the way he really was.

"Edie," he said again, curling his fingers into impotent fists at his sides.

She noted the gesture and arrowed her brows downward. Belatedly, Lucas realized how she must have misconstrued his actions. Immediately, he opened his hands again, but it was too late.

"Edie, please," he tried one last time. "Talk to me."

"Just go away, Lucas," she said, her voice thin and cold and much too empty. "Just leave me alone."

There was no rancor, no venom in her command. Just a simple request and a kind of sad resolution. Had Lucas suspected for a moment that he possessed a heart, Edie would have broken it right there. Good thing for him he was such a heartless sonofabitch. The realization, however, brought with it little comfort.

"Edie…"

"Good night, Lucas," she said as she pushed the front door closed. "And good-bye."

He said nothing more, knowing it would be fruitless at this point. In spite of her wishes, though, he knew it wasn’t going to be a good night. And, as her front door clicked softly shut, he knew it wasn’t going to be goodbye, either. Not yet. Not by a long shot.

Chapter 14

W hen Dorsey arrived at work late Monday afternoon, she sensed immediately that there was something very, very wrong. And not just because she’d managed to arrive early for a change, either. But as she changed into her bartender uniform and donned her wedding ring, as she stowed her backpack and teaching assistant clothes in her locker, she just sensed somehow that there was something … not right.

In spite of her misgivings, however, she completed her preparations and headed out to the bar and as always, saw all of Drake’s regulars lined up in their usual spots. Likewise as always, Adam was already there waiting—watching—for her, with that secretive little smile playing about his lips that Dorsey had come to know and love so well. And as always, Edie stood chatting with Straight-Shot-of-Stoli. But not as always, the other bartender was looking rather morose.

"Hi," Dorsey greeted her as she slipped behind the bar. "You look kinda down. What’s up?"

Edie shrugged without much concern and reached behind herself to tug at the strings on her apron. "I’m just not feeling all that great today, that’s all."

Which was also totally out of character for Edie, because in all the time she’d worked at Drake’s, Dorsey had never known the other bartender to be under the weather at all. Edie’s sunny disposition and her a-smile-a-day outlook had always kept even the nastiest germs at bay. Certainly she’d never looked as beaten down as she did now. Her bright blue eyes had dimmed some and were smudged beneath with faint purple crescents. Her mouth was flattened into a tight, joyless line, and her skin seemed paler even than it had before. Her whole body, in fact, seemed more fragile, more limp. Worse than that, though, her spirit seemed almost empty.

Unsure why she did it, Dorsey turned to look at Straight-Shot—not in accusation, but to silently ask for his input on this odd matter of Edie’s sudden sobriety. But all Straight-Shot did was shake his head slowly and turn his hands palm up in unspoken confusion.

So she turned back to Edie and asked softly, "Are you okay?"

Edie nodded in a very unconvincing way. "I’m fine," she said, likewise without conviction. Then she sighed with what sounded suspiciously like remorse. "It’s just a visit from the seven PMS dwarfs, that’s all," she added listlessly. "I’ll be okay in a few days."

In spite of the other woman’s clear dejection, Dorsey couldn’t help but smile at that. "I probably shouldn’t ask, but … the seven PMS dwarfs?"