Kay David - Obsession

He smiled in the darkness. “Perfect.”

She made her way to the chairs and table that perched on the edge of the patio. More hand-me-downs from the previous tenants. She pulled out a chair and Raul surveyed her yard. It was planted with a riot of tropical plants, and the night air was filled with their fragrance.

He stood for a moment in silence, then breathed in deeply as she watched, tilting his head to take in the stars overhead. It was the gesture of a man who’d been inside too long, and Leon’s words shot into her head.

A moment later, Raul stepped to where she sat, taking one of the chairs and moving it closer to hers. Over the scent of the flowers, she caught a suggestion of spice, an aftershave lotion, she realized a moment later. How long had it been since she’d noticed anything like that?

All at once, she regretted her invitation. It’d been crazy. Impulsive. Totally foreign to her usual behavior. What had she been thinking?

He started to sit down, then stopped. “Damn! I can’t believe I forgot,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I brought you a little something, but I left it in the truck. I’ll be right back.”

Emma watched him disappear into the house only to return a few minutes later. He held out a bulky newspaper. “A friend came in last night from the States. I asked him to pick this up for you.”

Mystified, Emma took the paper and unrolled it. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she took in the banner at the top. “ The Times Picayune! Oh, my God, how great!”

“I thought you might enjoy it. News from home is always nice.”

She shook her head with delight. “You don’t know,” she said. “It’s been months since I saw one and this is yesterday’s, too!” Impulsively she hugged him, then drew back quickly. “Thank you very much. I’ll read it from cover to cover!”

He looked pleased by her reaction, a slow smile spreading across his face. Something warm and unexpected rolled down her spine. Trying her best to ignore the feeling, Emma folded the paper carefully and put it to one side of the table.

He tapped the paper. “Tell me about your home there…about yourself.”

“You know all there is to know,” she said lightly. “I’m divorced, I’ve lived here two years, I’m a banker. That’s it.”

“That’s not who you are,” he said. “It’s what’s happened to you and where you live, what you do for a living, but it’s not you.”

When she didn’t answer right away, he prompted her. “Tell me what you do in your free time, what you like to read. How you became a banker.”

“You don’t really want to know all that stuff, do you? It’s terminally boring, believe me.”

She couldn’t really see him, but she sensed his movement as he leaned closer to her. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

His interest was too much. It felt incredible to have someone this intrigued by her, yet how could she answer? She stood up abruptly and moved away from the table toward one of the hibiscus plants. Plucking one of the blossoms, she knew she had to say something, but she didn’t know what.

His voice floated to her on the humid night air. It was closer than she would have expected, and turning, she saw that he’d followed her to the edge of the patio.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked quietly.

She swallowed hard. “What makes you think I’m afraid of something?”

“You avoid saying anything about yourself unless I insist, and every time I get close to you-one way or another-you run.”

In the dim light of an overhead street lamp she saw him raise his hand. Dreamlike, it came toward her face, and with the back of one finger, he brushed her cheek, an echo of his touch earlier that evening. The caress was so soft she could barely feel it.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were frightened of me.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why on earth would you frighten me?” She sounded brave on the outside, but inside, she was trembling. Her skin tingled from the simple heated contact.

He leaned a little closer, and for one panicky second, she thought he was going to kiss her. And she didn’t want to move away, either, she realized.

“Tell me more, Emma,” he said softly. “Tell me who you really are…”

Although she didn’t know what she was going to say, she opened her mouth to answer him. But she never got the words out. A loud crash shattered the silence into a thousand pieces. From the sound of metal on metal, it was clearly a car wreck, followed by a screeching alarm. With a loud curse, Raul whirled, bounded over her fence and ran toward the street.

RUNNING INTO THE CENTER of the boulevard, Raul shut off the car alarm with his remote, barely giving his vehicle a second glance. Whatever had happened, it didn’t matter. Who was the more important question. His eyes searched the road, first one way and then the other. He caught the barest glimpse of a set of taillights careering around the corner, but that was all. He cursed again. Had Kelman somehow followed him to Emma’s? The man knew where she lived, but the thought of Kelman following them home, watching them together, left a bad taste in Raul’s mouth.

Slowing to a walk, he looked across the street at his truck. The driver’s side door was caved in, a long slash of stripped paint evidence of the other vehicle’s progress from the back of the parked SUV and then along the side. It seemed to be a warning: I don’t know what you’re doing, but I know you’re doing it. Next time you might be inside the car when this happens.

This was Kelman’s way. Aggressive and nasty, but indirect. Staring at the damaged vehicle, Raul wasn’t really bothered by the destruction, because he knew the man too well. Kelman would do nothing to jeopardize whatever plans he had-he’d only wanted to send Raul a message.

He crossed the pavement and reached the truck the same time as Emma. She raised her hand to her mouth in dismay. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe this!” She stared down the street. “Did you see who did it?”

“They were already gone when I got here.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?” Her expression was horrified. “It’ll cost a fortune to repair this. And take forever, too!”

“It’s only a vehicle,” he answered.

She looked at him with an incredulous expression, then blinked, his meaning becoming clear to her. Without saying a word, she gazed again at the bashed-in door and bit her bottom lip. When she spoke, her voice sounded shaky. “Come inside and we’ll call the police.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”

“But you can’t-”

“I’ll take care of it, Emma.” Her startled look made him realize too late that his tone was sharper than it needed to be. “It’s just not worth the hassle.”

“But it’s the law,” she said stiffly. “You have to report accidents in Bolivia, or things get really sticky for you later. Raul, you don’t want to mess around with the police here-”

“You’re right,” he interrupted gently, “I don’t. So let me deal with this for now, and I’ll contact them…later.”

“All right.” Her words held all the reluctance of someone who followed the rules.

Not of someone who broke them.

“All right,” she said again. “If that’s really what you want to do.”

“It is.” Walking around to the passenger side of the SUV, he opened the door. It wasn’t easy-the car’s frame must have been bent-and the door protested with a metallic screech. Reaching inside, he stuck his keys in the ignition. The engine turned over instantly just as he’d thought it would. If the wheel was free, he’d be able to drive.