COUNTERPOINT
An original romantic serialFrom Alina Adams the author of "When a Man Loves a Woman" (DELL 4/00), "Annie's Wild Ride" (AVON 8/98), "Inside Figure Skating" (METROBOOKS 11/00 & 9/99), "Thieves at Heart" (AVON 12/95) and "The Fictitious Marquis" (AVON 6/95)
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CHAPTER 15
No. Ridiculous. It didn't make any sense. Why would a man deliberately act worse than he really was? What motive would he have? It had to be the other way around. The bastard, that had to be the true Robin. This charming, considerate incarnation was all for show. He was trying to impress his strumpet, hiding his real colors because Robin knew there wasn't a female soul in the world who could put up for long with the real Robin Cooper.
Except for his wife.
Nicole followed Robin and Victoria as they returned to Cooper Shipping. She told her driver to let her out at the curb, paying him the King's ransom he demanded, calculating how much money she and Eve still had left, and wondering how long they'd be able to go on living on it. When Robin didn't exit the building immediately, Nicole braved the parking garage, looking for him.
She'd always hated these places. There was something spooky about the way her footsteps echoed with every step, making Nicole wonder if she were alone, or if an army of psychopaths hid in the shadows, just waiting to pounce. She hated how cold they were and how the stench of gasoline burrowed through her clothes and hair. Most of all, she hated how they reminded her of her former life.
Nicole never heard the footsteps behind her, until she felt herself slammed against the nearest car, one greasy palm clamped over her mouth, the other holding a switchblade so tightly along her throat, it burned where he'd already nicked her skin.
A terrified whimper escaped her throat, but she knew better than to struggle. Not with a knife so close to her face. Nicole closed her eyes, her body going limp. She waited for her orders.
They came soon enough, delivered wrapped in a Southern accent so melodious, he should have been inviting her to a cotillion, not demanding Nicole's purse. She gave it up without a second thought. She doubted there were more than a few dollars left, anyway.
A reality that did not at all please her attacker. He'd had to remove the blade from Nicole's neck, so that he could bend over and pick up the purse where she'd dropped it on his say-so. Nicole turned around, eyes darting, hunting for escape. But, as soon as he realized she was all but broke, he sprung up, this time waving his knife close enough to Nicole's eyes to trigger double-vision.
"Please," she begged. "Not my face. I'll give you anything you want. Just, don't, not my face."
He smiled, pressing the tip against Nicole's jaw and slicing a quick line to the chin. She felt the drops of blood slide down her throat, and closed her eyes, paralyzed. "Please...."
She felt a sharp tug on her blouse, heard the rip of material, followed by a satisfied chuckle, and breath that smelled of turds. She braced herself, convinced that this couldn't be too much worse than some of what she'd already survived through, and anything was worth distracting him from making any more marks on her face.
He stopped. Or rather, something stopped him. One minute he was there, oily fingers closing around Nicole's breast like a vise, and, the next minute, some universal force, some hurricane gust of wind, ripped him away from her. She opened her eyes when she heard him smack the ground. He lay curled in a fetal position, groaning a string of curses that impressed even Nicole with their profusion. Hovering over him, one hand pressing his face into the cement, the other wrenching his arm behind his back, was a blond man dressed in jeans and a tan, suede jacket that might have looked expensive, if it also didn't look secondhand.
"I despise violence," he informed Nicole's mugger. "However, I am very good at it. You follow what I'm getting at, friend?"
Her assailant tried nodding, but, with his face being ground into the floor, only managed a strangled cough.
The blond man looked up at Nicole, indicating her cut. "Are you all right, Miss?"
She raised her hand to her neck, gagging at the sight of blood on her fingers, but, nevertheless, managing a strangled, "Fine."
"Just give me a sec to dispose of our friend, here, and I'll take a look at that if you'd like. I'm a doctor."
She barely heard him. Now that the danger was seemingly past, Nicole began shaking so violently, it drove all thoughts out of her head. Still, when the man said, "I'll just get the security guard and you can file a report -- " she still had enough sense left to shout, "No. Please. I don't want to file any reports." The last thing she needed, was for Robin to know she'd been here. When she finally confronted him, she wanted to be totally in control of all her faculties. Not shaken up like this.
He looked at her strangely, probably assuming Nicole was in some sort of shock and deciding that, for the moment, agreeing with her would do more good than arguing.
"Okay," he said. "Don't be scared. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
His words made her laugh. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had said that to her.
"I -- Thank-you, thank-you, I guess, thank-you for everything. I'm sorry, I don't know what to call -- I don't know your name."
He smiled at her. A smile so friendly that, for no reason in particular, it turned Nicole's laughter into tears.
"Scott," he said. "Dr. Gabriel Scott."