Alex stared at her for a second and then he crumbled. “God … god, Netta …”
He slumped into his chair, his face in his hands. Netta, still reeling from his outburst, hesitated before sitting on the arm of his chair and putting her hand on his shoulder.
She madehim coffee and put him to bed. Alex passed out almost immediately, and the sudden silence made Netta feel lonely and sad. She tried to talk herself out of crying but when Seth arrived, past midnight, and she saw his questioning face, she burst into tears.
Seth let her cry herself out. Then, as she wiped her eyes, she told him about what had happened. Seth listened, then kissed her forehead as she snuggled into his arms.
“Sweetheart, I think we have to face the fact that Alex needs help. Serious professional help.”
Netta was quiet for a time. “Seth … I am beginning to think that ….”
“He might have done it?” Seth finished, and she nodded, tears in her eyes.
“If he did, then he wasn’t in his right mind, Netta. We need to get him help first, and then we’ll deal with the repercussions of what happened in Italy.”
Netta closed her eyes. “Seth … what would I do without you?”
“You’ll never have to know, darling.”
Later, after she and Seth had gone to bed, after they made love and Seth was asleep, Netta lay awake. After a few minutes, she got up and went to grab a glass of milk from the kitchen.
She sighed. Maybe Seth was right. Alex needed help, badly. His reaction tonight about Ori … she would talk to him, she decided, and ask him to seek help. She poured the rest of her drink down the sink and padded back to the bedroom. Sliding underneath the covers, she curled herself around Seth’s sleeping form and closed her eyes.
Ori was walking now, tentatively working with the new clinic’s people. “You were lucky that your spine wasn’t compromised,” they told her, but every step was agony. Still, the sooner she could prove to them that she was getting better, the sooner she could leave and go home.
Go home to my husband,she grinned to herself, looking at the simple white gold band on her ring finger.
Maceo had kept his promise; they had married in a simple ceremony in the chapel of the hospital with Lucia as their—weeping—witness. Simple vows, but the love between them had radiated throughout.
“Shame we have to put off our wedding night,” she grumbled later, as Maceo helped her back into bed. He grinned.
“Believe me, mio caro, I too am looking forward to the day I can take this beautiful body to bed.”
Ori giggled at his face. “You’re talking about your own body there, aren’t you?”
Maceo laughed. “Well, of course. No, I meanthisbody,” and he ran his hand up her inner thigh, so close to her sex that she sighed happily.
“Higher,.” she said, gazing into his eyes, and smiling, Maceo began to caress her, his thumb stroking her clit through her panties, then slipping inside them to stroke her. Ori wriggled happily, wincing when she pulled on her abdomen.
“Sssh,mio amore,just lay back and let your husband take care of things.” His voice was a husky whisper. Ori closed her eyes and let Maceo stroke her into a mellow orgasm, endorphins flooding her system.
Afterward, they lay together on her bed and slept, determined to spend their wedding night close.
Now, Ori reflected on everything that had happened in the last year. So much pain, but so much joy. New friends, old enemies—new enemies. She thought about Alex; unlike Maceo, she still wasn’t convinced that he was her attacker. She kept returning to the killer’s kiss. Alex had kissed her before, and she couldn’t quite reconcile the two. It simply hadn’t felt the same.
You’ll make yourself crazy thinking like that.She shook her head. Maceo had kept Cassie’s murder from her for weeks, and it was only when Lucia let it slip that she had been shocked to find out about it. Maceo hadn’t been pleased and had dismissed Ori’s questions.
“No one knows who she was meeting that night; whoever it was who killed her,” Maceo said, had done them all a favor. Ori was a little shocked at his callousness, but when she asked Lucia about it, Lucia was equally hard.
“She came to here to find out if you were dead, Ori. She was hopeful. She was never your friend. She probably just got caught up with the wrong guy.”
But it bugged Ori. What if Cassie had known who stabbed Ori? Or was working with him?
She asked the questions of her psychiatrist, but the doctor was more interested in how Ori herself was dealing with the trauma of being an almost-murder victim.
“I’m fine,.” she told him. “I’ve accepted it.”
The psychiatrist didn’t seem convinced. “You’ve been through more this year than most do in a lifetime. Give yourself time.”
