The Doctors Pulaski: The Doctor's Guardian Part 18

That was easy to answer. "Because I don't want to feel this way. I want to be numb again. Numb is safe. I do my job and go home. Simple, clean."

She was beginning to understand. Nika's mouth curved. "And I'm messy."

He nodded, finally lowering his voice a little. "Oh so messy."

She paused a second as she rolled the phrase over in her head. "Not exactly the kind of compliment a woman longs to hear." The semi-smile turned into an amused grin. "But I'll take it."

The room began to fill up with people, doctors and nurses who had heard the single gunshot and wanted to know what was going on, as well as several security officers that one of the nurses had summoned.

Processing the scene, they fired questions at Cole and Nika. Cole took the lead and raised his hand, calling for a cessation of noise. It was a toss-up whether it was his commanding voice, or the badge and ID that he held in his hand that quieted the crowd.

Nodding toward the dead orderly, he said, "It looks like this was the last stop for the angel of death."

For another moment, as the words sank in, there was silence. And then a torrent of questions began to engulf him. Cole looked over his shoulder at Nika. "Don't go anywhere-we need to talk."

Her eyes never left his. "About?"

Cole took a breath. Still ignoring the other questions that were being fired at him, he gave Nika an evasive answer. "We just need to talk."

Nika mulled over Cole's nonanswer while he dealt with the security guards and then called for backup. On Nika's end, the wait seemed endless, but finally, the questions, at least for now, were all answered. The orderly's body had been taken to the Medical Examiner to await an autopsy. And Cole's grandmother, who'd slept through everything, was back in her room, still sleeping. After making a cursory report to his superior via his cell phone, Cole went down to his grandmother's room.

Nika was already there.

"You said you wanted to talk," Nika reminded him in response to his surprised look.

"Actually," he admitted with feeling, "I don't. What I really want to do is take you home and make love with you until I drop dead."

"Drop dead," she repeated. "Not exactly the most romantic scenario you could come up with, especially given what we just went through."

"It would be, up until the last part," he pointed out. And then the smile on his lips faded, pushed aside by the serious expression that had come over his features. He took her into his arms, thinking how special that felt-and how lucky he was. And how he'd almost lost it all. "I didn't mean to yell at you before."

An apology. She could forgive him for anything as long as he apologized, she realized. Though she tried to keep a straight face, she failed miserably. "Yes, you did."

"Okay, I did," he admitted, because lying would only serve him badly in this situation. "But that was only because you put yourself in danger and the consequences of that scared the h.e.l.l out of me.

"As do the feelings that you've raised. I don't want to feel like this," he confessed, continuing to do what he'd never done before-bare his soul. "I don't want to love you," he insisted, knocking her for a loop when he used the one word she was certain she'd never hear from him. "But I can't seem to block it or turn it off. Or even control it. It's bigger than I am, and stronger."

Her smile felt like it was growing deep roots-instantly. She threaded her arms around his neck. "Why don't you just enjoy it?" she suggested.

"I suppose I could do that," he allowed. "For a while, anyway."

She started to feel her heart sink. "And then?" she pressed. If he intended to leave her someday soon, she needed him to put her on notice. So she'd stop harboring false hopes.

"And then we'll up the ante."

She c.o.c.ked her head, her eyes on his. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He smiled into her eyes, really smiled. She could feel it penetrating her soul.

"Anything we want it to," he told her. Cole paused, waiting. "What do you think?"

She paused for a second as she selected her words. "I think, Detective Baker, that you and I are going to have a very interesting life." She deliberately refrained from using the word "together." That, she knew in her heart, would come in time. And she could wait.

He ran the back of his hand along her cheek, never taking his eyes off her. "I'm counting on it. You know, after everything that happened to me as a kid, I never thought I would ever feel close to anyone again besides G. And then you came along and somehow burrowed your way in when I wasn't looking. And now, now I can't imagine a day without you."

Warmth spread all through her, right through her fingertips and toes. Her smile was soft, loving. "You know, for a guy who doesn't talk much, that was very touching."

He shrugged, a little self-conscious. "Yeah, well, don't expect this all the time."

Nika's mouth curved as she tried to keep from laughing. You're mine, Cole Baker, and I'm never letting you go. "I won't. Oh, and just for the record, I love you, too," she told him softly, lacing her arms around his neck. "Right down to my toes."

"Well, it's about time."

The words, hardly more than a raspy whisper, came from his grandmother. She'd woken up for a span of perhaps thirty seconds.

But when they looked, she was asleep again.

It was just as well, Cole thought. The kiss that followed was far too torrid for a woman her age to witness.

Epilogue.

"Mama, this is a happy time. You're not supposed to be crying," Nika chided gently.

She took out the brand-new lace handkerchief that Sasha had given her that morning just before they left for the church and wiped away the lone tear that had insisted on sliding down her mother's cheek.

Paulina pushed aside her daughter's hand. "I am your mother. Do not tell me what I can or cannot do." She indicated the handkerchief still in Nika's hand. "Be putting that away. You are not supposed to be using it. It will not be new if you do," she said crisply in an attempt to maintain her abrupt facade. "And then we will he having to find something else for you to go with the borrowing and the old and blue," she retorted, reciting the age-old articles that each bride was supposed to have in her possession as she walked down the aisle toward her future husband.

Paulina squared her shoulders as she reclaimed her composure. She and her daughter-her beautiful, beautiful daughter-were momentarily alone in the small room reserved for the bride within the church where, a few short minutes from now, her second-born was going to become a married woman.

Her Nika was going to be the wife of a fine young man who had come to Paulina to ask for her daughter's hand. She knew things like that were not done here in this day and age, so the fact that Cole Baker had done this specially pleased her. Her husband, she knew in her heart, would have approved of the match.

"Yes, Mama," Nika said dutifully, then smiled warmly at her mother. "But this really is a happy time," she repeated, her voice soft but firm nonetheless.

Paulina raised her chin and sniffed. "I know that," she declared.

Josef heard the exchange between mother and daughter just as he was about to look in on them. He was to give the bride away, and even after having done so five previous times, the responsibility still filled him with pride.

He opened the door wider now. Somewhere in the background could be heard the beginning strains of the song that placed all brides center stage.

"She is your mother," Nika's uncle pointed out. "She is knowing everything."

Nika slanted a quick glance toward her mother. There was a time that would have had her mother's back up-she took offense at every word Nika's uncle and aunt said-but this time Nika saw her mother nod her head, as if she had just been given her due.

"When it is coming to matters concerning my daughters," Paulina said solemnly, "the answer is being yes."

As if on cue, Nika's three sisters came in, all but flooding the room. Alyx took Nika's hands in hers and beamed even as she shook her head. "I can't believe you're getting married ahead of me."

"Only by two weeks," Nika pointed out. "And then we switch positions and I get to be your maid of honor."

"Matron of honor," Henryka, the youngest of the foursome, corrected. "You'll be Alyx's matron of honor," she repeated, putting a great deal of stress on the word. And then she laughed, her eyes s.h.i.+ning as she teased her older sister. "You'll be an old married lady, Nika."

Paulina rallied, defending Nika. It was all well and good for her to be critical of her daughters, but no one else could be, not even her other daughters.

"Which is what you need to become," she informed her youngest, her pointed gaze s.h.i.+fting from Henryka to her third-born. "Both of you."

Looking over her shoulder, Josef raised his voice. "Magda," he called out.

A moment later, his wife appeared in the doorway just behind him. The room had become far too crowded for her to enter.

"Yes, Josef?"

"Please finding a nice escorter-"

"Usher," Magda corrected her husband patiently.

"Usher," he repeated, without missing a beat, "to be taking Paulina to her place of honor now, please."

Nika knew her uncle had phrased it that way to appeal to her mother's need for recognition. It seemed to work. Paulina allowed herself to be drawn from the room by her sister-in-law as Magda took hold of her arm.

"I will see you in the front," Paulina promised Nika, brus.h.i.+ng a quick kiss against her daughter's cheek.

With peace once again restored, Nika's sisters all filed dutifully out of the room as the music grew louder.

And then it was just Nika and her uncle.

Josef presented his arm to her and she slipped hers through it. Adrenaline began coursing through her veins. This is it, she thought excitedly.

"Your father," Josef told her, his eyes s.h.i.+ning with tears it did not become a man to shed, "would be being very proud of you at this moment. As he always was," he added.

"Thank you, Uncle Josef."

He nodded. "All right, now we must be walking. You do not wanting to keep your nice young man waiting."

And with that, she and her uncle walked out into the hall as she took the first steps that would lead her to the rest of her life.

ISBN: 978-1-4592-1448-4.

Books by Marie Ferrarella.

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