Sweet Trilogy. Susan Mallery
eased into the hall.
The man crossed to Nicole’s door and opened it. Claire didn’t stop to think, she charged, jumping onto his back and hitting him with the heel of the shoe. The guy shrieked, then stumbled into Nicole’s room, all the while yelling at her to get off.
“Call 911,” Claire screamed as she and the guy went down.
She braced herself for the impact. Fortunately he crashed into the hardwood floor, and she only landed on him. While he was still gasping for breath, she dropped the shoe, grabbed his right wrist with both hands and pulled it against his back, up high, near his shoulder blades. He yelled in pain. At the same time, she planted her foot on the back of his neck and pressed down as hard as she could.
The man swore loudly. “I’m fucking bleeding. Goddammit, Nicole, what the hell is going on here?”
“Call 911,” Claire repeated. “I can’t hold him much longer.”
Nicole sat up and stared at them. “Claire, I have to say, you’ve really impressed me. When did you learn to do that?”
Claire felt her strength fading. “I took martial arts classes off-season for a couple of years. Plus, I’ve seen my bodyguards at work.”
“You have bodyguards?”
Talk about the wrong thing to say, she thought with a sigh. “Not all the time. Not in New York, but sometimes in Europe. Fans can be aggressive.”
“Nicole!”
The shout came from the guy. Claire looked at him, then at her sister. “He knows you?”
“Apparently. You can let him go. That’s Drew. My husband.”
Her… “What?” Claire released the guy’s wrist and stepped off his neck. “Drew?” The cheating bastard who slept with his wife’s sister?
The man in question rose slowly and glared at her. “Who the hell are you?”
He seemed good-looking enough, she thought absently, if one ignored the deep, oozing gouge in his cheek and the second one just under his ear. The wounds gave the phrase “killer high heels” a whole new meaning.
She ignored him and picked up her shoe. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”
Nicole looked at her. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Claire left Nicole’s door open, then retreated to the guest room. As she shut her door, she heard Drew’s impatient repeated question, “Who the hell is she?” but couldn’t hear Nicole’s response.
Feeling proud of herself and empowered, Claire sank onto the bed and grinned. She’d done good. Maybe she should start working out and get stronger. Maybe take up martial arts again. She could be a dangerous killing machine. She looked down at her long, tapered fingers—a part of the freak hands she was supposed to protect at all costs. Maybe not.
She turned her attention to the television when what she really wanted to do was listen at the door. But that would be rude. She did her best to get interested in a show on HGTV only to jump when Drew started yelling.
“You’re taking this all wrong.”
“How am I taking it wrong?” Nicole demanded, just as loud as Drew. “Are you saying you just slipped on the carpet and ended up having sex? She’s my sister, you bastard. My baby sister. If you had to whore around, at least keep it out of the family.”
“Look, I know it’s bad, but it’s not what you think.”
“Saying it didn’t mean anything is not going to help you.”
“I’m not saying that. It’s just I want you to know I’m sorry for how much this is hurting you.” His voice dropped.
Claire muted the television and tiptoed to her door. When she still couldn’t hear anything, she opened it a tiny bit.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Drew said.
Claire frowned. She was willing to admit she knew nothing about men and women and the complications of their relationships, but it seemed to her Drew was apologizing for the wrong thing. The problem wasn’t that he’d hurt Nicole. The problem was he’d had sex with her sister.
Nicole seemed to agree with her. There was a loud crash, followed by a “Get out, you slimy bastard. Get out!”
Claire opened her door wider. If she had to, she was prepared to escort Drew out of the house. She wondered how he’d gotten in, then wondered if he still had a key. She would have to talk to Nicole about changing the locks. Before she could decide if she wanted to interfere, she heard more footsteps on the stairs. Who now?
Wyatt couldn’t believe Drew had been stupid enough to show up here. There were some relationships that couldn’t be fixed and his marriage to Nicole was one of them. There was no recovering from sleeping with Jesse. He couldn’t figure out if Drew was too optimistic or just too stupid to know that for himself.
He climbed the stairs, only to come to a halt near the top when he saw Claire standing on the landing. She was speaking—at least he figured she was. Her lips were moving and there was probably sound, but he couldn’t hear it. Not when every cell in his body had spun around to get a look at her wearing a baggy T-shirt and—he swore and prayed at the same time—nothing else.
Her face was washed clean of any makeup, her hair hung long and straight. She was barely covered to the tops of her thighs and he would bet every penny he had that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“He just showed up. I didn’t know who he was, so I jumped him. I don’t think the punctures are really deep. I don’t actually care about him, but someone should look at those just in case. He could get an infection.”
He had no idea what she was talking about.
She took a step toward him. Yup, no bra. Worse, he could see the outline of her nipples pressing against the soft cotton.
Panties, he told himself. She had to be wearing panties. So that was something, right?
It wasn’t enough as he imagined her in silk and lace and nothing else. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Why her? That’s all he wanted to know. He accepted that he had lousy taste in women, but why her? Why not someone reasonably intelligent and compassionate? Or just a regular person. Not the ice princess.
He moved past her and walked into Nicole’s bedroom. Ignoring his stepbrother, he asked, “You okay?”
Nicole shook her head. “Get him out of here.”
“Sure.” Wyatt glanced at Drew. “You shouldn’t have come. You—”
He stared at the deep puncture wounds on Drew’s cheek and neck. “What happened?”
“Claire attacked him,” Nicole said. She sniffed, then gave both a sob and a laugh. “It was pretty impressive actually. She jumped him from behind and started hitting him with a shoe. They both went down. She got him in some kind of armlock, then stood with her foot on the back of his neck. I guess they take interesting classes at music school.”
Claire had attacked Drew to protect her sister? Who would have thought.
“She got me by surprise,” Drew said defensively. “I’ve been drinking. My reflexes aren’t working right.”
Wyatt couldn’t help grinning. “You were taken down by a girl?”
“Shut up.”
“I’d say make me, but we both know that’s not going to happen. I doubt Claire weighs a hundred and forty pounds. Jeez, Drew, talk about embarrassing.” He grabbed his brother by the arm. “Come on. I’m taking you home. You can sleep it off.”
Drew pulled free of him. “I’m not leaving. I belong here. With Nicole. I love her.”
“You have a funny way