High-Heeler Wonder (Killer Style 1)

That caramel-smooth voice set off a thunder from her heart monitor, and she sat straight up so fast the room spun. Anton sprang to her side. Ignoring both her fathers, she took in the man slouching hesitantly in the doorway, too uncertain to come all the way into the room.

Tony!

He looked like hell. His jaw was swollen and a purple shadow darkened his right cheek. His thick brown hair was tousled as if he’d spent the evening in a wind tunnel, and his black T-shirt was on inside out.

Damn, he was gorgeous.

The heart monitor went even crazier.

Henry’s spine went rigid. “We will always appreciate your saving our Sylvie tonight.” he said stiffly to Tony. “But you’re not welcome here.”

Tony’s shoulders slumped, but he pushed forward a half step into the room. “I understand, but if I could just have a minute.”

Slowly regaining her equilibrium, Sylvie took in the protective wall her fathers made on her behalf. No doubt about it, they loved her. But she was done with using them as an excuse to hide herself from the world. From the heartache of rejection. If this was the last time she spoke with Tony, she was going to face it head-on, painful though it may be.

Tony’s jaw clenched, and he sent her a pleading glance.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Never mind. I guess this wasn’t a good idea.” Tony sighed and started to back out of the doorway.

“No.” The word rushed out in a whoosh. “Stay. Please.”

“Are you sure, bulldog?” Henry squeezed her hand.

Her heart too far up in her throat to speak, so she nodded.

“We’ll be out in the hall.” Anton brushed his hand across her back and delivered a swift kiss to her cheek. “If you need anything, just call out.”

Her fathers filed out of the room, both shooting Tony the stink-eye the way only pissed off fathers could when looking at men they deemed less than worthy to date their daughters. Smart man that he was, Tony gave them a wide berth.

Once she and Tony were finally alone, they regarded each other in silence. He paced across the small room to the window, and followed the same path back to the door, favoring his right leg. Nervous energy poured off him in waves. In the stretching silence, tension grew between them like a child’s soap bubble, pushing against Sylvie like an almost tangible thing.

She couldn’t take it. Sure, she’d told him to get the hell out of her life, but tonight she’d realized that wasn’t what she really wanted. What she really wanted was him. In her life. And if he was here to tell her good-bye for good, well, he had another thing coming, because she was fighting for this. For him. For them.

She ran her fingers through her hair, combing through several knots, grimacing at the idea of how she must look. The paper-thin, sickly green hospital gown wasn’t the most flattering, but a girl had to work with what she had—even the High-Heeled Wonder.

“What do you want to tell me?” she asked cautiously.

“I have no idea.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders forward.

“The man who always has a plan is winging it?” Her lips curved up as she nibbled the bottom one nervously.

He chuckled. “Yeah, and I’m not really good at spontaneous.”

“You should come up with a plan to work on that.”

“No kidding.” He laughed, and the tension between them evaporated.

She pushed the rolling tray of hospital food away from the bed and patted the sheet next to her. “Sit down and talk to me.” An insidious trickle of hope threaded through her.

Tony limped over and sat down, rubbing his right knee. He opened and closed his mouth several times before letting out a sigh that shook his shoulders. “Remember the night in the kitchen when you told me we’re all broken? Well, you’re right. But when I’m with you, I’m more than just a mass of mistakes. With you I feel hope. I feel…whole.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I know I fucked up, but I promise I’ll make it up to you. You may not forgive me today, or tomorrow, or even years from now, but Sylvie, you’re worth fighting for. And I want to. God, do I want to.”

She scrunched up her nose, losing her battle against the tears that had been threatening to fall since she woke up in the ambulance without Tony. “I think you do pretty damn well when you wing it.”

He lowered his mouth to hers. Firm, soft lips caressed hers and she opened beneath him. His tongue plunged inside, teasing her with promises of the future they’d have together. It was bliss and torture as she tried to free her legs from the confines of the tightly made sheets while he busied his mouth tracing a trail of passion down her neck. Desire pooled in her belly, the need to feel more of him erasing all concerns of where they were. The rest of the world didn’t exist.

“I love you,” Tony whispered against the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder.