Black Diaries

84. Seventy-One Degree Love

Wham! Wham!

A hailstorm of blows started hammering down on the brawny thug. He tried to attack, tried to slash at Roy with the knife, but at the first try, Roy smashed one of his cudgels against the man's wrist. The sound of cracking bone cut through the air, followed by a scream.

"Yes! Like that! Give him a good one from me!"

Roy flashed me a dark smile. The thug thought he saw his chance, and his fist shot forward. With a flick of his wrist, Roy beat his arm aside, grabbed it, and pulled. Stumbling forward, the thug ran right towards Roy—and Roy didn't step out of the way. On the contrary.

Crack!

The sound of the headbutt made the hair at the back of my neck stand up. Twisting the stumbling thug around in his arms, looking for all the world as if he were sorting through hospital files, not fighting for his life, Roy slammed his stick against the man's throat from behind, took hold with both hands, and pulled.

"Rrrg!"

The strangled groan erupting from the man's throat was unlike any noise I had heard before. Not even my ex-husbands had made sounds like that when I'd finished them off. Half fascinated, half terrified, I watched Roy squeeze the life out of the bulky thug. Oh, all right, I admit it: it was one quarter terrified, three quarters fascinated! Whatever Roy was doing—this wasn't a normal martial art. It wasn't a stylish way of self-defense with a bit of yin and yang thrown in for spiritual souls. This was an efficient way of killing people.

And oh my God, was it hot!

"Where does a doctor learn to do this?" I demanded, awed.

He looked over at me. His grip on the sticks didn't relax an iota. "On a little trip for Doctors Without Borders I made last year."

"Doctors Without Borders teach that?" I stared, grinning, as the thug's face began to turn red. "I've got to join! Do they have a veterinary division?"

He laughed. "No, the doctors don't teach that. The patients do"

"What?"

"At least in the Philippines they do. I was there after an earthquake, doing emergency relief work, and although it was supposed to be for free, a stubborn old man insisted on paying me in an unusual way." He pulled harder on the sticks, and the thug's face turned from red to purple. "Never thought getting the crap kicked out of me with two large sticks on a daily basis would come in this useful one day."

He cocked his head at me. "You don't look as freaked out by this as I thought you would be."

"Are you kidding?" I gave him a broad grin. "This is awesome! The best show I've seen in years." I tugged at my bonds again, the smile momentarily displaced by a scowl. "I only wished I could have joined in."

He laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. "Cassy! You're one in a million!"

Our eyes met, and held for an endless moment.

"Gggrk! Ugh!"

The strangled noises broke the romantic atmosphere in the air and redirected my attention to the thug, who was a really dark shade of purple by now. Damn! Why couldn't he choke in silence and let us enjoy our romantic moment?

Oh well... I sighed and nodded to the man.

"Are you going to let him go?"

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Do you think I should?"

"Having to explain dead bodies can be a bother. Trust me."

"Oh, well, if you think so."

Abruptly, he let go, and the thug collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping. Before he could pick himself up, Roy's right arm came whistling down, and with a resounding thunk, a cudgel sent the man into the realm of dreams. Giving him a final kick to the guts to check he was out cold for good, Roy stepped over him, straight towards me. His eyes were focused on my face with an intensity that sent delicious shivers down my back.

"Cassy!" Enveloping me with his arms, he pulled me towards him—which also meant he pulled the chair I was tied to towards him. I ended up tilted at approximately a seventy-one degree angle. But I didn't care. I was tilted at seventy-one degrees in the arms of the man I loved. "Cassy, are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"Not really," I mumbled into the soft linen of his collar. He smelled so good. Not to mention how he felt... "I'm fine."

"Fine?" Reaching up, Roy touched my cheek, where a trickle of blood was running down my skin. His eyes flashed with rage. "This is what you call fine?"

"It's only a little blood."

He threw a scathing look over at the limp form on the floor. "Are you sure I shouldn't kill him after all?"

"Yes," I said. "Absolutely." It's enough if one of us is wanted for murder.

He turned back to me, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at me tugged at something deep inside me. And I don't mean my pancreas.

"Oh God... if something had happened to you—I wouldn't have been able to go on. I couldn't live without you, Cassy!"

Color rose to my cheeks. The fact that I was still dangling at a seventy-one degree angle didn't exactly lessen my blush. "You're just saying that."

In answer, Roy reached his hand into his pocket. When he pulled it out again, it held a small, rectangular, velvet-covered box.

"No," he said, catching my gaze with those mesmerizing eyes of his. "I'm not."

I felt my throat go dry. "Roy..."

Oh God! This isn't happening! I'm tied to a chair, for God's sake, and he...!

"Cassy, remember when I told you I wanted to come over to tell you something important?"

"Yes?"

"Well—it's more than that. I have to tell you something all right—but I also have to ask you something."

He started to go down on one knee.

"Roy!" for some reason, my voice sounded rather squeaky. "Roy, I'm tied to a chair!"

"I noticed."

"Well... aren't you going to untie me?"

He lowered himself until he knelt in front of me, and, looking up, a smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. "I don't think so. I have something important to ask you, you know. Like this, I have you exactly where I want you until I'm finished."

"Roy! Untie me this instance!"

His smirk widened. "Not until I'm finished."

Tearing at my bonds, I glared at him. My chair teetered precariously, my hair swaying back and forth. He took a tighter hold of me.

"Careful! Or you'll fall on your face."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours?" he suggested, that infuriating, lovable grin still on his face. Letting go of me with one hand, he pulled the chair down towards him until I was dangling at forty-five degrees, only inches away from his face. With his one free hand, he flipped the velvet box open, revealing a ring with a gorgeous black diamond.

Black, like his eyes, and my soul! All my anger melted away, and I hung there, dangling at forty-five degrees, and yet falling, falling so hard all over again for this man in front of me.

He held the ring out to me.

"I love you, Cassidy. Will you marry me?"

I threw my arms around him—or at least I tried to. Blasted ropes! The chair toppled, and I fell forwards into his arms. I couldn't have fallen anywhere better.

"Oh God!" Somehow, my lips found his, and I forgot my current angle, forgot the ropes, forgot everything in the world except him. "I love you too! Roy, I love you so much!"

"Cassy...!"

"Now untie me so I can get my hands on you, dammit!"