A Family Affair
Disclaimer: No, I don't own the Witchblade characters. Yes, I wish I did.
Author's Note: My sincere (as opposed to insincere) apologies for the reprehensibly long wait between chapters. I was suffering through a creative drought, perhaps in response to the dreary weather we had been experiencing here in the Northeast. Now that if feels more like summer, my muses have returned. A belated happy summer solstice to everybody! And I promise that chapter 54 will not be far behind!
Chapter 53
When Ian came upstairs, Paula Siri was sitting at the kitchen island/breakfast bar drinking a glass of orange juice, and her husband and son were in the coatroom, putting on their boots and outerwear. Ian joined them, nonchalantly grabbing his knit hat and putting it on his head -- no mean feat one-handed. He was relieved when neither Robert nor Joseph appeared to notice his hairstyle.
"Here, let me help you with that," Robert offered as Ian took his coat off its hook. "You should probably wear that sling on the outside, so you can button your coat against the cold," he suggested.
Ian nodded. "That makes sense."
With the ease of long practice, Robert removed the sling, eased Ian's supposedly useless left arm into the coat sleeve, put the sling back on, and buttoned the younger man's coat for him.
"Is this your first dislocation?" he asked Ian as he adjusted the straps.
"No," Ian said. 'Not even close,' he thought ruefully.
"How soon were you able to relocate the joint?"
"Within half an hour."
"Immediately would have been best, but I'm sure you know that."
"I do, but, unfortunately, that was not an option at the time."
"I see. I suggest getting an MRI as soon as possible. If you need or want a consultation, I know several excellent orthopedic surgeons. Just let me know."
"Thank you, Robert, I will."
Joey stepped into the kitchen and then into the hallway. "Gina Marie! We're leaving!" he bellowed. "If you're coming, you better come now!"
"I'll be right down!" the girl yelled. Moments later, she came skipping down the stairs.
"How do I look, Mommy?" she asked her mother, pirouetting in front of her.
"Adorable, but then I'm biased," Paula smiled.
"What difference does it make? Nobody's gonna see what you're wearing underneath your coat anyway," Joey muttered, rolling his eyes.
"This is the sweater Grandma Marie made me for my birthday last year," the girl said, ignoring her brother. "I'm finally big enough to wear it!"
"Oh, hold on a sec!" Paula exclaimed, jumping up. "Let me get the camera and take a picture of you in it. Marie will be thrilled."
From the coatroom, Joey let out a groan. "Can't we just sneak out now?" he asked his father, who shook his head.
"Miracle of miracle, there's actually film in the camera," Paula said, returning. "Smile, Sweetie!"
Grinning, Gina Marie struck a pose that showed off the hand-knit pastel pink, blue, and yellow argyle sweater she wore over a white turtleneck. Ian averted his eyes so they wouldn't be dazzled by the flash.
"Take another one, just in case the first one doesn't come out," the girl instructed her mother, who obliged. "Can you take one of all of us outside, so we'll have a picture of the blizzard?" she suggested.
"That's a good idea," Paula said. "I'll take it once you've gotten the sleds out and are ready to head to the park."
"Yeah, yeah. Hurry up and put your coat and boots on, Pipsqueak," Joey said impatiently. "It's almost noon already!"
Outside, the sun was shining in a scintillatingly blue sky with nary a cloud in sight. Although still below freezing, the air temperature lacked the bitter edge it had possessed last night, and there was no wind to speak of.
"What a difference a day makes hunh?" Robert Siri said. "It's beautiful out."
"Indeed," Ian murmured, squinting at the blinding brilliance of the sunlight on the snow.
"Dad, keys," Joseph Siri, Jr. said to his father, who obligingly handed them over.
They headed toward the garage, the kids bounding ahead of the adults.
"Snow angel!" Gina Marie yelled, making a detour to a patch of pristine snow beside the narrow path.
Ian watched with interest as she fell backward into the deep snow and then spread-eagled her arms and legs. "Daddy, help me up!" she requested when she was done.
He did, and Ian saw that the pattern she left behind did, in fact, resemble the outline of an angel, complete with flowing robes and outstretched wings -- a four-foot eight-inch angel.
"Very nice, Sweetie," Robert told her, brushing snow from her small form.
"Most impressive," Ian agreed when the grinning girl turned to him for approval.
"You can do one later, Daddy," she said. "You, too, Ian. Oh, I forgot about your arm. That's all right. Yours will be a one-winged angel!"
"Puh-leeze!" Joey opined from where he stood by the garage door. "Snow angels are for kids!"
Robert stuck his tongue out at his son, whose back was to him as he unlocked the door, causing Gina Marie to giggle.
"I will be right back. I need my sunglasses, which are in my car, and the keys are upstairs," Ian said, taking the stairs to the garage apartment two at a time. Once inside, he grabbed the keys to the SUV, but then hesitated, his gaze going to the shopping bag that contained his weapons harness. Crossing to it, he removed one of his Glocks and shoved it in his waistband in the front of his jeans. 'It never hurts to be prepared,' he thought, feeling better for being armed.
Just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, a piercing scream from inside the garage had him reaching for the Glock. Heart pounding, he rushed inside.
"A spider! I saw a spider!" Gina Marie whimpered, cowering against her father.
"It's just cobwebs, silly! See?" Joey said, indicating the dusty, gossamer strands clinging to the bright-green plastic saucer he'd taken down from a hook on the wall.
But the girl shook her head fearfully, refusing to touch it. "Daddy, could you wipe them off for me?"
"Sure, baby," Robert said. He noticed Ian standing in the doorway. "She's afraid of spiders," he murmured, his gaze briefly flicking to the gun the other man still held in his gloved hand. "It only sounded like she was being attacked."
Coloring, Ian hastily shoved the Glock back into his waistband and pulled his sweater down, concealing the weapon. Luckily, neither of the kids noticed his actions.
When Joey handed the saucer to his father, Gina Marie scampered over to where Ian stood, watching anxiously as her father cleaned the cobwebs off. Her tiny, mittened hand came up to grasp Ian's large gloved one, and he squeezed it reassuringly.
"There. All done," Robert declared. "No sign of spiders."
Hesitantly, the 11-year-old took the saucer from him, holding it gingerly by one of its handles. "It's dusty. I better clean it off with some snow," she said, and headed outside.
"They're all real dusty from lack of use," Joey commented, taking down a wooden sled with metal runners and handing it to his father. "We haven't had a good snowstorm like this in a couple of winters."
"Yeah. This steering mechanism could use a shot of WD-40," Robert observed, wiping cobwebs from the runners. He grabbed a can off a nearby shelf and exited the garage.
After retrieving his sunglasses from the SUV, Ian followed him outside, and watched as the older man sprayed the sled's rust-stained runners with an aerosol lubricant. A muffled yell was heard from within the garage, and moments later a wild-eyed Joseph Siri, Jr. came rushing out carrying another sled, which he immediately tossed onto the snow.
"Gina Marie was right! There was a spider the size of Staten Island on the wall under my sled!" he breathed.
"I knew it!" the girl said from where she knelt in the snow next to her saucer. "Did you kill it, Joey?"
"Nah. I brought it out to show you!" he said, holding up a clenched fist. "Wanna see?" A wicked grin on his face, he slowly began to advance on his sister.
Gina Marie held her ground, glaring at him. "You're lying. There's nothing in your hand," she said, but her gaze flicked toward his gloved hand fearfully.
Joey shook his head. "Am not. It's big, black, and hairy." He lunged at her, and her nerve failed. She screamed and scrambled to her feet to dodge behind Ian, clutching the back of his coat in terror.
"Daddy! Make him stop!" she wailed.
"Joey, stop teasing your sister," Robert said, not even looking up from his task.
The teenager cackled evilly. "Psych!" He opened his fist to show that it was empty. "You're such a scaredy-cat, Gina Marie!" he said scornfully.
Scowling, his sister came out from behind Ian. "I'm telling Mommy you're being mean to me," she threatened.
"Go ahead," her brother called her bluff, kneeling in the snow next to his sled.
"Hmmm. Big, black, and hairy perfectly describes a wolf spider," Ian spoke up. "Very much like the one that is on the back of your hat, Joseph."
The boy froze. "You're kidding me, right?" He stared at Ian, trying to gauge by the dark-haired man's expression whether or not he was being truthful. Unfortunately for him, the black wraparound sunglasses the former assassin now wore made his features even more inscrutable than usual.
"Um, no, he's not, Joey," Robert said, staring wide-eyed at the back of his son's head. "Wow! Look at the size of that thing!"
"Oh my God!" Gina Marie breathed. "Don't move, Joey!"
"Somebody get it off me!" her brother said, his voice cracking with fear.
"Hold still," Ian murmured, slowly moving toward the teen.
"Hurry, Ian!" Gina Marie squeaked. "It's crawling toward his neck!"
"GAH!!!" Joey tore his hat from his head and flung it to the snowy ground. "Did I get it? Did I get it?" he panted, frantically brushing at the back of his neck. Then he noticed that his sister was doubled over with laughter.
"Omigod! That was great, Ian! We got him good!" the girl gasped when she could speak again. She high-fived a grinning Nottingham.
"Ha, ha. Real funny," Joey muttered sullenly, picking up his knit hat. He threw an accusing look at his father, who wasn't even bothering to hide his own grin. "I can't believe you played along with them, Dad."
"Turnabout is fair play, my boy," Robert said. "Catch," he tossed his son the can of lubricant.
"Who's the scaredy-cat now, Joey?" Gina Marie chortled. "'Somebody get it off me!'" she mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "I can't wait to tell Aunt Sara about this!"
Her brother grimaced. "Are you happy now, Ian? I may never live this down!" he pouted as he finished cleaning the cobwebs from his sled and gave the steering mechanism and runners a coating of WD-40.
"Now maybe you will think twice about teasing your sister in this manner again," Ian murmured.
"I sure will," he grumbled. "At least when you're around."
"Daddy, could Ian come live with us?" Gina Marie asked her father, completely serious.
Both Ian and Robert burst out laughing. Even Joey couldn't prevent a chuckle from escaping, his sense of humor, never absent for long, returning.
"Okay, everybody, move closer together!" Paula Siri said, emerging from the main house, camera in hand.
Ian began to edge away from the family members, but Gina Marie grabbed his hand. "That means you, too, Ian!" she declared.
"That's right," Joey agreed. "And you might want to take off your hat so you can show off your cute new hairstyle while you're at it!" he smirked.
Ian threw him a startled look. "I think not," he murmured, blushing in mortification.
"The bright-pink fuzzy thingy on the end adds just the right touch," Robert chimed in.
"Don't listen to them, Ian," Gina Marie said to him, giving his hand a little shake. "They're just jealous 'cause you look so handsome."
"Okay, say 'cheese!'" Paula instructed.
"Cheese!"
The camera whirred. From that day forward, the resulting photograph always had the power to bring a smile to Ian's face as he recalled that the color visible in his cheeks had not been caused by the cold.
The four of them set off for the park, which was normally a ten- minute walk from the Siri family's home; however, owing to the enormous snowfall and the fact that the majority of sidewalks had yet to be shoveled, it took them nearly half an hour to get there. As promised, Robert pulled his daughter all the way there on his sled, while Ian carried her snow saucer for her.
There was quite a crowd in the park. People of all ages were taking advantage of the record snowfall and zooming down the modest-sized hill on sleds and toboggans. The high-pitched shrieks of children mingled with deeper shouts of adult laughter.
"Uh-oh, snowboarders," Robert Siri murmured, nodding toward a group of eccentrically dressed youths who were carving swaths down the hill while standing sideways on wide, brightly colored boards that were approximately four feet in length from curved end to curved end. It sure looked like fun, Ian thought wistfully.
"Cool!" Joey said, avidly watching them. "That's what I want for Christmas. A snowboard!" he said to nobody in particular.
"I thought you wanted a mountain bike for Christmas," his father replied.
"Grandpa Joe already said he's getting me a bike for my 17th birthday," the boy said absently. "Hey, there's my friend, Pete! Could you hold onto this for me for a few minutes, Ian? Thanks!" He handed the reins of his sled to Nottingham and took off, dashing across the hill to join the snowboarders, narrowly avoiding being hit by several sledders in the process.
"Think you can resist the temptation?" Robert asked the younger man wryly, eying his son's sled.
"We shall see," Ian murmured. He glanced down at Gina Marie Siri, and saw that she had produced a hand mirror from somewhere and was reapplying her lip gloss.
"Ooooo, she's fancying herself up!" her father teased, noticing the same thing. "She must have noticed that Andrew Manucci is here."
"Daaaad!" Gina Marie groaned, coloring, but she immediately cast a surreptitious glance up the hill. "Did you really spot him?"
Robert chuckled. "I think that's him at the top of the hill to the left, wearing the green and blue jacket," he said, pointing.
"Daddy, don't point!" his daughter hissed, grabbing his hand. She threw another quick look over her shoulder in the direction that he'd indicated. "Omigod, it is him. And I think I see my friend Vanessa. Is that Molly Kaplan she's talking to? It is! Molly's mom let her put magenta streaks in her hair, but I haven't seen how it looks yet," she confided to them. "If it looks cool, I'm gonna ask Mommy if I can get it done to my hair, too. Except I want purple streaks. I'm heading up. Bye!" Practically snatching her saucer from Ian's hand, she started trudging up the hill.
"They grow up so fast," Robert sighed, shaking his head. "Well, I might as well get a couple of rides in. See you in a few." Dragging his sled behind him, he started up the hill.
Minutes later, Ian watched enviously as the older man slid to a stop at the bottom of the snow-covered hill after an obviously exhilarating ride.
'What harm could it do if I just took one quick ride on Joseph's sled?' Ian mused. 'Children younger than Gina Marie and seniors older than Joseph Siri, Sr. are sliding down the hill!' Seconds later, Sara contacted him telepathically, almost as if she sensed his wavering resolve.
"Robert, I am returning to the house," Ian informed the older man as he made his way over to where Nottingham stood. "I dare not disobey Sara's edict, but I find it is far too tempting to simply stand around watching the action." Resolutely, he handed the reins of his son's sled to him.
"Yeah, I sympathize with you. Normally, I'd say one ride couldn't hurt you, but the way these kids are flying down this hill, I'm not so sure!" Robert muttered, shading his eyes as he peered back up the slope. Gina Marie was getting ready to take her first ride down, and he wanted to keep an eye on her. "Plus, although Joey and me would never breathe a word of it if you did throw caution to the wind and take a ride, Gina Marie would probably spill the beans and then you'd really be in hot water with Sara."
"Indeed," Ian agreed. 'Besides, I'd much rather be in bed with Sara than in hot water with her,' he thought to himself, his pulse rate speeding up at the thought of seeing her again. 'However, sharing a hot bath with her might be fun. A bubble bath. The sunken marble tub in the penthouse suite at the Argyle would do nicely. Hmmm.'
"Here she comes!" Robert said, interrupting Ian's pleasant reverie. He beamed as he watched his daughter come zooming down the hill sitting cross-legged on her snow saucer.
Ian couldn't help smiling at the ear-to-ear grin on the young girl's face as she sped over the snow. A squeal of excitement mingled with fear escaped her as the saucer hit a small bump and she briefly became airborne. But she landed smoothly, spinning around several times before coming to a stop several yards from them.
"That was great!" she laughed, staggering dizzily through the well- trampled snow over to them. "I can't wait to get back up there and do it again!"
"Ian's heading home. He says it's torture not being able to join in the fun," Robert told her.
"Poor Ian," Gina Marie said, making a sympathetic face. "This hill is just okay, so you're not missing out on anything great."
"Plus, you gotta keep an eye on those darn snowboarders who think they own the hill," her father murmured, frowning toward the unruly group of kids who had quickly commandeered the lion's share of the hill.
Ian followed his gaze and spied Sara's nephew among the dozen or so young men and women who were recklessly racing each other down the hill on their garishly painted snowboards. Heavy-metal rock music blared from a boom box one of them had brought along. As they watched, Joey gleefully raced one of the other boys down the hill on a borrowed board, handily beating him despite the other youth's attempts to cut him off and knock him down. Ian had already witnessed several collisions and nasty spills, but the youngsters just laughed it off and immediately clambered back up the hill to do it all over again.
"They're insane," Gina Marie opined. "You and Mommy aren't actually gonna get him a snowboard for Christmas, are you, Daddy?"
"If that's what he really wants and he continues to get good grades, I'm afraid so," her father told her, clearly not thrilled by the prospect. "He's gonna have to wear a helmet, though. Well, I'm heading back up for another ride. We'll see you back at the house, Ian." Dragging both sleds behind him, he began the long trek back up the hill.
"See you later, Ian," Gina Marie chirped, following in her father's tracks.
"Later," Ian murmured, heading in the opposite direction.
Twenty minutes later, he let himself into the side entrance to the Siri family's house, deliberately making noise as he removed his outerwear and boots so that he wouldn't startle Paula Siri.
"Who's that?" she called from the living room.
"Ian," he responded. "I decided to return earlier than the others." Putting the detested sling back on as he went, he padded down the hallway.
Paula was curled up on the couch with a book and a cup of tea. Soft music emanated from the stereo located in a handsome wooden corner unit on the other side of the large room. A fire was burning cheerily in the hearth, and Ian was once again struck by how inviting this house was. Like the elder Siris' home, it practically vibrated with love and warmth.
"Too much temptation, hunh?" Paula inquired astutely.
"Yes, and I missed Sara," Ian admitted softly.
"She's asleep. I checked in on her a few minutes ago. Grab a cup of tea and sit a while," Paula invited him.
"Thank you. I think I will," he accepted. He went back into the kitchen, poured hot water over a peppermint teabag, and then brought the mug back out to the living room. He took a seat on one of the comfortable wingchairs flanking the sofa, cupping his chilled hands around the warm mug.
"Where did you grow up, Ian?" Paula asked him, leaning over to pick up a plate of cookies from the coffee table and offering them to him.
"Thank you," he said, transferring his mug to his left hand and taking a couple. "I grew up in Westchester County in the village of Scarsdale."
"That must have been nice. Robert and I considered buying a house in Nassau County, but we decided that the property taxes were too high. He wasn't crazy about the commute, either."
"You have a lovely home here in Brooklyn," Ian murmured, taking a sip of his piping hot tea.
"Thanks. It's hard to believe when you look at it today, but the place was a fixer upper when we bought it," she informed him. "Robbie, his dad, my dad, my brother Mike, and Jimmy Pezzini had to do a hell of a lot of work on it before it became inhabitable. We lived with my folks for a while until it was ready. I gave birth to Joey just two weeks after we moved in."
"Sara's father worked on this house?"
"Yeah, we bought it the year before he was killed. He was great with his hands. His father did carpentry in his spare time, and he taught Jimmy everything he knew," Paula told Ian. "He also pretty much redid the entire house he and Laney bought as newlyweds. Joe helped out, but it was mostly Jimmy."
"You knew Sara's mother, Magdalene?"
"Not very well. She was a lot older than me. But I remember her from family get-togethers and weddings and funerals, that sort of thing. I think we might have a picture or two of her and Jimmy that Robbie's parents took. Do you wanna see them?"
"Yes, I would like that very much," Ian said.
"Be right back." She disappeared upstairs.
Ian's bond with Sara informed him that she was resting peacefully, her sleep too light to be disturbed by dreams, pleasant or otherwise. He itched to join her in bed, but he was curious to see the photographs of her deceased parents.
"I think the pictures are in this album," Paula Siri said, returning. She retook her seat on the sofa, motioning to Ian to join her there, which he did. Opening the big, heavy, cloth-bound book, Paula began flipping through the laminated pages, providing the man next to her with tantalizing glimpses of the evolution and history of the Siri family.
"Yeah, here's the one of them at Joanie's christening. Joanie is Robbie's youngest sister, and Jimmy and Laney were her godparents," she told Ian, showing him a picture of a much younger Joseph Siri, Sr. and Marie Siri in a church. Ian's eyes were drawn to the couple that stood next to Joseph and Marie. A slender, dark-haired woman who appeared to be in her mid- to late 20s held an infant dressed in a long, lacy white gown in her arms as she smiled for the camera. The smartly dressed young man next to her was smiling, too, but his eyes were on his pretty wife rather than the photographer.
"I think there's another one of them in here at a barbecue or something," Paula said, turning the pages. "Oh, here it is. That's right; it was Joanie's first birthday party. Joe and Marie held it in their backyard. That's Robbie and Anna Marie, Robbie's other sister, next to Laney and Jimmy."
Once again, Magdalene Pezzini held her goddaughter in her arms and beamed for the camera. Her husband was grinning as he touched the bare, chubby foot of the tiny girl his wife held. They were seated at a picnic table along with several older children.
"That's me, across from Robbie, and that's my brother Mike to my right," Paula said. "That's the only pictures we have of Sara's parents, but I'm pretty sure Joe and Marie have several more."
"Thank you for showing them to me," Ian said. "I had never seen pictures of Sara's mother before, and I was curious to see what she looked like."
"She was very pretty, don't you think? And Jimmy was madly in love with her. Such a tragedy that she died so young. Joe and Marie hoped he'd remarry, but Laney was his one and only love," Paula said softly, closing the photo album.
"I can understand that," Ian murmured. "I knew Sara was the only one for me from the moment I laid eyes on her."
"I'm a firm believer in love at first sight, too," his hostess said, smiling warmly. "Marie likes to joke that Robbie was smitten with me from the moment he saw me, which was when we were toddlers at the playground! Our mothers put us in the sandbox together, and the rest, as the saying goes, is history. We were high school sweethearts, and we both attended St. John's University. We decided to take a break during our sophomore year, you know, and date other people." Paula made a face. "But that didn't last long. I was miserable when I didn't see him for more than a couple of days, and he felt the same way. He popped the question a month after we graduated and I didn't even have to think twice."
"I would love to ask Sara to marry me," Ian blurted out without thinking. "But I am not free to do so at this time."
Paula nodded in understanding. "Sara told me that your father doesn't approve of her. Kenneth Irons is your father, isn't he?"
Ian's startled eyes met hers. "How did you know? Did Sara tell you?"
Paula shook her head. "No. I guessed. Don't worry; your secret is safe with me, Ian," she said, patting his leg reassuringly
"I suppose you also know that Sara and I are hiding out here from my father."
"Yeah, well, that story about you falling off a roof raised a lot more questions than it answered for me and Robbie," Paula said wryly. "We became really worried when we heard on the news that a female detective was missing at the scene of a drug bust and a firefight between unknown forces. We were afraid it was Sara, but nobody at the 11th Precinct would tell us anything. We were very relieved when they announced on the news that the female detective had been found safe and sound. But then later on, they mentioned that the heavily armed men the police captured at the burning warehouse were suspected of being part of the same group that was attacking your father's estate in Scarsdale. Next thing we know, you and Sara show up here, and you're badly injured." She shrugged. "I just put two and two together."
"I defied my father to be with Sara," Ian admitted quietly. "But he will not tolerate my defiance for much longer. Nor will he ever give his consent for me to marry her."
"You're a grown man, Ian. Surely, he can't stop you from marrying whoever you want to marry. Or are you afraid he'll cut you off from your inheritance?"
Ian immediately shook his head. "I could care less about my inheritance. Sara and the ba-- . . . Sara is all I care about."
"She also told me that she might be pregnant, Ian," Paula said gently. "I think you'll make a great father."
"You do?" he asked wistfully. "I did not have the best role model in that respect." His expression became troubled. "My father is very . . . controlling. He is not used to being defied, and he will go to great lengths to force me to do his bidding." He hesitated. "I am afraid it is not safe for Sara and I to remain here much longer," he finally said slowly.
"It's like that, is it?" Paula said, sipping her tea, apparently unruffled by the implied threat to her and her family.
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Hmmm. Tell me, what would your father do if you and Sara eloped?"
"I am fairly certain he would find some way to annul the marriage. Money can buy just about anything, and that, as you know, is something my father has no shortage of. Besides, I seriously doubt I could convince Sara to elope with me. She does not love me," he said matter-of-factly.
"Give her time, Ian. All of this is very new to her. She's just scared," she assured him, squeezing his arm comfortingly.
"Unfortunately, time is something we have precious little of," Ian sighed. "My father will not take no for an answer where I am concerned, nor will he hesitate to take drastic measures to force me to return to the estate. I cannot conscience placing you and your family in harm's way. Therefore, Sara and I have decided to leave tomorrow morning. I am sorry to have to burden you with this, Paula. You and your husband have gone out of your way to make me feel as though I am a part of this family, and I will never forget your kindness for as long as I live."
"Like it or not, you are a part of this family now, Ian. And between the two of you, I'm positive you'll figure out a way to be together. Besides, no matter how rich and powerful your father is, even he can't do anything about the weather!"
"The street in front of the house will be plowed soon, and that means there will no longer be any obstacle stopping the men my father has undoubtedly sent to retrieve me from attempting to do so," Ian said, deciding to be blunt.
"Granted, but I just heard on the news that another storm is headed this way. We could get another foot of snow by tomorrow night. If the city doesn't get around to plowing the street before then, you and Sara should still be safe here."
Ian considered this latest development for a moment then regretfully shook his head. "No. It is too risky. I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you or your family, Paula. Sara and I will leave tomorrow morning as planned."
"But where will you go?"
"It is best if you do not know our whereabouts, but we will call you to let you know we have reached our destination safely," he assured her.
"Somebody sure needs to give your father a good talking to!" Paula scowled. "What the hell is his problem?"
"They are too numerous and complicated to get into," Ian said wearily. "If I had a couple of weeks, I might be able to shed some light on the subject. Suffice it to say that 'dysfunctional' does not even begin to explain my family dynamic. Now," he rose, "I am going to join Sara for a short but pleasant nap before lunch. Thank you for the tea and cookies, as well as for showing me the photographs of Sara's parents, Paula."
"You're most welcome, Ian. And remember what I said: Give Sara some time. She's never been in love before, so it'll take a while for her to come to her senses," Paula Siri said.
"Now I know where young Joseph gets his wisdom from," Ian remarked softly, feeling his throat tighten with emotion at her calm certainty.
Paula beamed. "Thanks for the complement. Enjoy your nap."
Ian silently let himself into the darkened guest room a minute later. Sara lay curled up on her right side, clutching a pillow to her chest. Ian removed his sling and his navy blue cable-knit pullover, and, lifting the heavy cotton bedspread covering her, slid into the bed next to her.
"What took you so long?" she muttered sleepily, stroking the arm he put around her.
"I was learning how to snowboard," he said, pressing his lips to her ear.
"Yeah, right," she grinned. A quiver went through her body as the tip of his tongue emerged to trace her ear and his hand slipped beneath her shirt to cup her right breast possessively. "Ian, we're supposed to be napping, remember?"
"Oh, yes. Sorry," he murmured contritely, but his thumb began to stroke her nipple through her bra. "How is your headache?"
"What headache?" she breathed, feeling a now-familiar ache begin to build way down low. "Um, my left breast is getting jealous."
His throaty chuckle set her pulse racing. "We cannot have that." He gathered her closer to him, and she smiled to feel his arousal against her rump.
'Awww, isn't that sweet,' she thought with feminine satisfaction, 'he's happy to see me!' But then she frowned. 'Really, really happy to see me!'
"Uh, Ian?"
"Yes, my love?"
"Is that a gun I feel digging into my ass or did somebody slip you some extra-strength Viagra?"
He froze. "My apologies," he said, easing away from her. Sheepishly, he removed the Glock from his waistband and set it on the night table.
Sara turned over and looked at him. "You armed yourself to go sledding?"
He shrugged self-consciously. "We might have been followed by my father's men. I felt it was prudent to be prepared for anything."
"And here I was worried that these past few days of domestic bliss might make you lose your edge," she said, shaking her head. "Silly me."
"Old habits die hard, Sara," he said softly, unable to meet her gaze. "And the fact of the matter is, we cannot remain here much longer."
"What if you headed Irons off at the pass?" she said after a long moment of silence during which he felt her green eyes study his downcast features.
"What do you mean?"
"What if you called him and promised to return to the estate after Thanksgiving? Do you think he'd leave us alone until then?"
"I doubt it. If I were him, I would want to separate us as soon as possible. He knows that the longer we are together, the stronger our bond will grow."
"But wouldn't he rather avoid a messy battle between you and his goons? I imagine he's already up to his ears in media attention after that debacle with the Russians."
"You have a point. However, I believe he is willing to run the risk of garnering more negative publicity when it comes to me. He is desperate to regain the upper hand in our relationship."
"I know you said we'd have more leverage if we could manage to wait until he's in desperate need of my blood in order to survive, but what if we decided not to wait until then? Promise him that you'll return to the estate after Thanksgiving, and in return for him agreeing to leave us alone until then, tell him that I'll supply him with a vial of my blood. If he refuses, tell him all bets are off; we'll fight whoever he sends to get you and I'll never willingly give him my blood."
"He will never stop trying to regain control of me or the Witchblade, Sara. It is not in his nature to give up, especially where it concerns something he has been obsessed with nearly his entire life. But your plan just might buy us some needed time to decide how we can ultimately defeat him. By the way, Paula knows Kenneth Irons is my father."
Sara's startled eyes met his. "How on earth did she figure that out?"
"When you told her that my father does not approve of you, she put two and two together. She is a very intelligent woman, your sister-in-law. I also informed her of the potential threat to her and her family. She is aware of the fact that we are leaving first thing tomorrow morning, which I still think is wise even if my father agrees to leave us be until after the holiday."
"You're just full of surprises this afternoon, aren't you?" Sara said. "What made you decide you could trust her?"
He shrugged. "She is family," he said simply.
Sara grinned at him, delighted by his response. "She is that. C'mere you," she opened her arms to him and he slid close to her again. Automatically, one of his hands started to work its way beneath her shirt, but she grabbed it, preventing his sensual assault. "Not that I didn't enjoy being groped by you earlier, but what do you say we just snuggle for a while, okay?"
Ian sighed. "If you insist." But then he grinned. "Just think, a week ago, if you had said you simply wanted to snuggle, I would have been overjoyed," he mused, gathering her closer to him.
Sara nodded. "And I'd have been cooling my heels for quite some time while you divested yourself of enough weapons to outfit a small army instead of removing a single Glock. Maybe you have gotten soft, Nottingham!" she teased him.
"In more ways than one," he muttered. "But that is easily remedied!" He leered at her hopefully.
"Forget it, Cowboy. We're practicing our cuddling skills until further notice."
"Cuddling is good," he acquiesced with another sigh. "But wild monkey sex is so much better!"
"I've created a monster!" Sara cried softly, unable to refrain from pressing a tender kiss to his smiling lips. His response to even this slight stimulus was instantaneous and just as swiftly evoked an answering response from her own body.
"Oh, all right," she muttered, pulling her long-sleeved cotton thermal shirt over her head. "You can play with my tits if you must. But the bra stays on."
"We shall see about that," Ian chuckled, turning his attention to her breasts. "Hello, my lovely ladies! Did you miss me?"
More to come! As always, thanks so much for your immensely inspiring feedback. I so enjoy reading it, and it really does inspire me to keep going. Please, keep it coming!
Disclaimer: No, I don't own the Witchblade characters. Yes, I wish I did.
Author's Note: My sincere (as opposed to insincere) apologies for the reprehensibly long wait between chapters. I was suffering through a creative drought, perhaps in response to the dreary weather we had been experiencing here in the Northeast. Now that if feels more like summer, my muses have returned. A belated happy summer solstice to everybody! And I promise that chapter 54 will not be far behind!
Chapter 53
When Ian came upstairs, Paula Siri was sitting at the kitchen island/breakfast bar drinking a glass of orange juice, and her husband and son were in the coatroom, putting on their boots and outerwear. Ian joined them, nonchalantly grabbing his knit hat and putting it on his head -- no mean feat one-handed. He was relieved when neither Robert nor Joseph appeared to notice his hairstyle.
"Here, let me help you with that," Robert offered as Ian took his coat off its hook. "You should probably wear that sling on the outside, so you can button your coat against the cold," he suggested.
Ian nodded. "That makes sense."
With the ease of long practice, Robert removed the sling, eased Ian's supposedly useless left arm into the coat sleeve, put the sling back on, and buttoned the younger man's coat for him.
"Is this your first dislocation?" he asked Ian as he adjusted the straps.
"No," Ian said. 'Not even close,' he thought ruefully.
"How soon were you able to relocate the joint?"
"Within half an hour."
"Immediately would have been best, but I'm sure you know that."
"I do, but, unfortunately, that was not an option at the time."
"I see. I suggest getting an MRI as soon as possible. If you need or want a consultation, I know several excellent orthopedic surgeons. Just let me know."
"Thank you, Robert, I will."
Joey stepped into the kitchen and then into the hallway. "Gina Marie! We're leaving!" he bellowed. "If you're coming, you better come now!"
"I'll be right down!" the girl yelled. Moments later, she came skipping down the stairs.
"How do I look, Mommy?" she asked her mother, pirouetting in front of her.
"Adorable, but then I'm biased," Paula smiled.
"What difference does it make? Nobody's gonna see what you're wearing underneath your coat anyway," Joey muttered, rolling his eyes.
"This is the sweater Grandma Marie made me for my birthday last year," the girl said, ignoring her brother. "I'm finally big enough to wear it!"
"Oh, hold on a sec!" Paula exclaimed, jumping up. "Let me get the camera and take a picture of you in it. Marie will be thrilled."
From the coatroom, Joey let out a groan. "Can't we just sneak out now?" he asked his father, who shook his head.
"Miracle of miracle, there's actually film in the camera," Paula said, returning. "Smile, Sweetie!"
Grinning, Gina Marie struck a pose that showed off the hand-knit pastel pink, blue, and yellow argyle sweater she wore over a white turtleneck. Ian averted his eyes so they wouldn't be dazzled by the flash.
"Take another one, just in case the first one doesn't come out," the girl instructed her mother, who obliged. "Can you take one of all of us outside, so we'll have a picture of the blizzard?" she suggested.
"That's a good idea," Paula said. "I'll take it once you've gotten the sleds out and are ready to head to the park."
"Yeah, yeah. Hurry up and put your coat and boots on, Pipsqueak," Joey said impatiently. "It's almost noon already!"
Outside, the sun was shining in a scintillatingly blue sky with nary a cloud in sight. Although still below freezing, the air temperature lacked the bitter edge it had possessed last night, and there was no wind to speak of.
"What a difference a day makes hunh?" Robert Siri said. "It's beautiful out."
"Indeed," Ian murmured, squinting at the blinding brilliance of the sunlight on the snow.
"Dad, keys," Joseph Siri, Jr. said to his father, who obligingly handed them over.
They headed toward the garage, the kids bounding ahead of the adults.
"Snow angel!" Gina Marie yelled, making a detour to a patch of pristine snow beside the narrow path.
Ian watched with interest as she fell backward into the deep snow and then spread-eagled her arms and legs. "Daddy, help me up!" she requested when she was done.
He did, and Ian saw that the pattern she left behind did, in fact, resemble the outline of an angel, complete with flowing robes and outstretched wings -- a four-foot eight-inch angel.
"Very nice, Sweetie," Robert told her, brushing snow from her small form.
"Most impressive," Ian agreed when the grinning girl turned to him for approval.
"You can do one later, Daddy," she said. "You, too, Ian. Oh, I forgot about your arm. That's all right. Yours will be a one-winged angel!"
"Puh-leeze!" Joey opined from where he stood by the garage door. "Snow angels are for kids!"
Robert stuck his tongue out at his son, whose back was to him as he unlocked the door, causing Gina Marie to giggle.
"I will be right back. I need my sunglasses, which are in my car, and the keys are upstairs," Ian said, taking the stairs to the garage apartment two at a time. Once inside, he grabbed the keys to the SUV, but then hesitated, his gaze going to the shopping bag that contained his weapons harness. Crossing to it, he removed one of his Glocks and shoved it in his waistband in the front of his jeans. 'It never hurts to be prepared,' he thought, feeling better for being armed.
Just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, a piercing scream from inside the garage had him reaching for the Glock. Heart pounding, he rushed inside.
"A spider! I saw a spider!" Gina Marie whimpered, cowering against her father.
"It's just cobwebs, silly! See?" Joey said, indicating the dusty, gossamer strands clinging to the bright-green plastic saucer he'd taken down from a hook on the wall.
But the girl shook her head fearfully, refusing to touch it. "Daddy, could you wipe them off for me?"
"Sure, baby," Robert said. He noticed Ian standing in the doorway. "She's afraid of spiders," he murmured, his gaze briefly flicking to the gun the other man still held in his gloved hand. "It only sounded like she was being attacked."
Coloring, Ian hastily shoved the Glock back into his waistband and pulled his sweater down, concealing the weapon. Luckily, neither of the kids noticed his actions.
When Joey handed the saucer to his father, Gina Marie scampered over to where Ian stood, watching anxiously as her father cleaned the cobwebs off. Her tiny, mittened hand came up to grasp Ian's large gloved one, and he squeezed it reassuringly.
"There. All done," Robert declared. "No sign of spiders."
Hesitantly, the 11-year-old took the saucer from him, holding it gingerly by one of its handles. "It's dusty. I better clean it off with some snow," she said, and headed outside.
"They're all real dusty from lack of use," Joey commented, taking down a wooden sled with metal runners and handing it to his father. "We haven't had a good snowstorm like this in a couple of winters."
"Yeah. This steering mechanism could use a shot of WD-40," Robert observed, wiping cobwebs from the runners. He grabbed a can off a nearby shelf and exited the garage.
After retrieving his sunglasses from the SUV, Ian followed him outside, and watched as the older man sprayed the sled's rust-stained runners with an aerosol lubricant. A muffled yell was heard from within the garage, and moments later a wild-eyed Joseph Siri, Jr. came rushing out carrying another sled, which he immediately tossed onto the snow.
"Gina Marie was right! There was a spider the size of Staten Island on the wall under my sled!" he breathed.
"I knew it!" the girl said from where she knelt in the snow next to her saucer. "Did you kill it, Joey?"
"Nah. I brought it out to show you!" he said, holding up a clenched fist. "Wanna see?" A wicked grin on his face, he slowly began to advance on his sister.
Gina Marie held her ground, glaring at him. "You're lying. There's nothing in your hand," she said, but her gaze flicked toward his gloved hand fearfully.
Joey shook his head. "Am not. It's big, black, and hairy." He lunged at her, and her nerve failed. She screamed and scrambled to her feet to dodge behind Ian, clutching the back of his coat in terror.
"Daddy! Make him stop!" she wailed.
"Joey, stop teasing your sister," Robert said, not even looking up from his task.
The teenager cackled evilly. "Psych!" He opened his fist to show that it was empty. "You're such a scaredy-cat, Gina Marie!" he said scornfully.
Scowling, his sister came out from behind Ian. "I'm telling Mommy you're being mean to me," she threatened.
"Go ahead," her brother called her bluff, kneeling in the snow next to his sled.
"Hmmm. Big, black, and hairy perfectly describes a wolf spider," Ian spoke up. "Very much like the one that is on the back of your hat, Joseph."
The boy froze. "You're kidding me, right?" He stared at Ian, trying to gauge by the dark-haired man's expression whether or not he was being truthful. Unfortunately for him, the black wraparound sunglasses the former assassin now wore made his features even more inscrutable than usual.
"Um, no, he's not, Joey," Robert said, staring wide-eyed at the back of his son's head. "Wow! Look at the size of that thing!"
"Oh my God!" Gina Marie breathed. "Don't move, Joey!"
"Somebody get it off me!" her brother said, his voice cracking with fear.
"Hold still," Ian murmured, slowly moving toward the teen.
"Hurry, Ian!" Gina Marie squeaked. "It's crawling toward his neck!"
"GAH!!!" Joey tore his hat from his head and flung it to the snowy ground. "Did I get it? Did I get it?" he panted, frantically brushing at the back of his neck. Then he noticed that his sister was doubled over with laughter.
"Omigod! That was great, Ian! We got him good!" the girl gasped when she could speak again. She high-fived a grinning Nottingham.
"Ha, ha. Real funny," Joey muttered sullenly, picking up his knit hat. He threw an accusing look at his father, who wasn't even bothering to hide his own grin. "I can't believe you played along with them, Dad."
"Turnabout is fair play, my boy," Robert said. "Catch," he tossed his son the can of lubricant.
"Who's the scaredy-cat now, Joey?" Gina Marie chortled. "'Somebody get it off me!'" she mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "I can't wait to tell Aunt Sara about this!"
Her brother grimaced. "Are you happy now, Ian? I may never live this down!" he pouted as he finished cleaning the cobwebs from his sled and gave the steering mechanism and runners a coating of WD-40.
"Now maybe you will think twice about teasing your sister in this manner again," Ian murmured.
"I sure will," he grumbled. "At least when you're around."
"Daddy, could Ian come live with us?" Gina Marie asked her father, completely serious.
Both Ian and Robert burst out laughing. Even Joey couldn't prevent a chuckle from escaping, his sense of humor, never absent for long, returning.
"Okay, everybody, move closer together!" Paula Siri said, emerging from the main house, camera in hand.
Ian began to edge away from the family members, but Gina Marie grabbed his hand. "That means you, too, Ian!" she declared.
"That's right," Joey agreed. "And you might want to take off your hat so you can show off your cute new hairstyle while you're at it!" he smirked.
Ian threw him a startled look. "I think not," he murmured, blushing in mortification.
"The bright-pink fuzzy thingy on the end adds just the right touch," Robert chimed in.
"Don't listen to them, Ian," Gina Marie said to him, giving his hand a little shake. "They're just jealous 'cause you look so handsome."
"Okay, say 'cheese!'" Paula instructed.
"Cheese!"
The camera whirred. From that day forward, the resulting photograph always had the power to bring a smile to Ian's face as he recalled that the color visible in his cheeks had not been caused by the cold.
The four of them set off for the park, which was normally a ten- minute walk from the Siri family's home; however, owing to the enormous snowfall and the fact that the majority of sidewalks had yet to be shoveled, it took them nearly half an hour to get there. As promised, Robert pulled his daughter all the way there on his sled, while Ian carried her snow saucer for her.
There was quite a crowd in the park. People of all ages were taking advantage of the record snowfall and zooming down the modest-sized hill on sleds and toboggans. The high-pitched shrieks of children mingled with deeper shouts of adult laughter.
"Uh-oh, snowboarders," Robert Siri murmured, nodding toward a group of eccentrically dressed youths who were carving swaths down the hill while standing sideways on wide, brightly colored boards that were approximately four feet in length from curved end to curved end. It sure looked like fun, Ian thought wistfully.
"Cool!" Joey said, avidly watching them. "That's what I want for Christmas. A snowboard!" he said to nobody in particular.
"I thought you wanted a mountain bike for Christmas," his father replied.
"Grandpa Joe already said he's getting me a bike for my 17th birthday," the boy said absently. "Hey, there's my friend, Pete! Could you hold onto this for me for a few minutes, Ian? Thanks!" He handed the reins of his sled to Nottingham and took off, dashing across the hill to join the snowboarders, narrowly avoiding being hit by several sledders in the process.
"Think you can resist the temptation?" Robert asked the younger man wryly, eying his son's sled.
"We shall see," Ian murmured. He glanced down at Gina Marie Siri, and saw that she had produced a hand mirror from somewhere and was reapplying her lip gloss.
"Ooooo, she's fancying herself up!" her father teased, noticing the same thing. "She must have noticed that Andrew Manucci is here."
"Daaaad!" Gina Marie groaned, coloring, but she immediately cast a surreptitious glance up the hill. "Did you really spot him?"
Robert chuckled. "I think that's him at the top of the hill to the left, wearing the green and blue jacket," he said, pointing.
"Daddy, don't point!" his daughter hissed, grabbing his hand. She threw another quick look over her shoulder in the direction that he'd indicated. "Omigod, it is him. And I think I see my friend Vanessa. Is that Molly Kaplan she's talking to? It is! Molly's mom let her put magenta streaks in her hair, but I haven't seen how it looks yet," she confided to them. "If it looks cool, I'm gonna ask Mommy if I can get it done to my hair, too. Except I want purple streaks. I'm heading up. Bye!" Practically snatching her saucer from Ian's hand, she started trudging up the hill.
"They grow up so fast," Robert sighed, shaking his head. "Well, I might as well get a couple of rides in. See you in a few." Dragging his sled behind him, he started up the hill.
Minutes later, Ian watched enviously as the older man slid to a stop at the bottom of the snow-covered hill after an obviously exhilarating ride.
'What harm could it do if I just took one quick ride on Joseph's sled?' Ian mused. 'Children younger than Gina Marie and seniors older than Joseph Siri, Sr. are sliding down the hill!' Seconds later, Sara contacted him telepathically, almost as if she sensed his wavering resolve.
"Robert, I am returning to the house," Ian informed the older man as he made his way over to where Nottingham stood. "I dare not disobey Sara's edict, but I find it is far too tempting to simply stand around watching the action." Resolutely, he handed the reins of his son's sled to him.
"Yeah, I sympathize with you. Normally, I'd say one ride couldn't hurt you, but the way these kids are flying down this hill, I'm not so sure!" Robert muttered, shading his eyes as he peered back up the slope. Gina Marie was getting ready to take her first ride down, and he wanted to keep an eye on her. "Plus, although Joey and me would never breathe a word of it if you did throw caution to the wind and take a ride, Gina Marie would probably spill the beans and then you'd really be in hot water with Sara."
"Indeed," Ian agreed. 'Besides, I'd much rather be in bed with Sara than in hot water with her,' he thought to himself, his pulse rate speeding up at the thought of seeing her again. 'However, sharing a hot bath with her might be fun. A bubble bath. The sunken marble tub in the penthouse suite at the Argyle would do nicely. Hmmm.'
"Here she comes!" Robert said, interrupting Ian's pleasant reverie. He beamed as he watched his daughter come zooming down the hill sitting cross-legged on her snow saucer.
Ian couldn't help smiling at the ear-to-ear grin on the young girl's face as she sped over the snow. A squeal of excitement mingled with fear escaped her as the saucer hit a small bump and she briefly became airborne. But she landed smoothly, spinning around several times before coming to a stop several yards from them.
"That was great!" she laughed, staggering dizzily through the well- trampled snow over to them. "I can't wait to get back up there and do it again!"
"Ian's heading home. He says it's torture not being able to join in the fun," Robert told her.
"Poor Ian," Gina Marie said, making a sympathetic face. "This hill is just okay, so you're not missing out on anything great."
"Plus, you gotta keep an eye on those darn snowboarders who think they own the hill," her father murmured, frowning toward the unruly group of kids who had quickly commandeered the lion's share of the hill.
Ian followed his gaze and spied Sara's nephew among the dozen or so young men and women who were recklessly racing each other down the hill on their garishly painted snowboards. Heavy-metal rock music blared from a boom box one of them had brought along. As they watched, Joey gleefully raced one of the other boys down the hill on a borrowed board, handily beating him despite the other youth's attempts to cut him off and knock him down. Ian had already witnessed several collisions and nasty spills, but the youngsters just laughed it off and immediately clambered back up the hill to do it all over again.
"They're insane," Gina Marie opined. "You and Mommy aren't actually gonna get him a snowboard for Christmas, are you, Daddy?"
"If that's what he really wants and he continues to get good grades, I'm afraid so," her father told her, clearly not thrilled by the prospect. "He's gonna have to wear a helmet, though. Well, I'm heading back up for another ride. We'll see you back at the house, Ian." Dragging both sleds behind him, he began the long trek back up the hill.
"See you later, Ian," Gina Marie chirped, following in her father's tracks.
"Later," Ian murmured, heading in the opposite direction.
Twenty minutes later, he let himself into the side entrance to the Siri family's house, deliberately making noise as he removed his outerwear and boots so that he wouldn't startle Paula Siri.
"Who's that?" she called from the living room.
"Ian," he responded. "I decided to return earlier than the others." Putting the detested sling back on as he went, he padded down the hallway.
Paula was curled up on the couch with a book and a cup of tea. Soft music emanated from the stereo located in a handsome wooden corner unit on the other side of the large room. A fire was burning cheerily in the hearth, and Ian was once again struck by how inviting this house was. Like the elder Siris' home, it practically vibrated with love and warmth.
"Too much temptation, hunh?" Paula inquired astutely.
"Yes, and I missed Sara," Ian admitted softly.
"She's asleep. I checked in on her a few minutes ago. Grab a cup of tea and sit a while," Paula invited him.
"Thank you. I think I will," he accepted. He went back into the kitchen, poured hot water over a peppermint teabag, and then brought the mug back out to the living room. He took a seat on one of the comfortable wingchairs flanking the sofa, cupping his chilled hands around the warm mug.
"Where did you grow up, Ian?" Paula asked him, leaning over to pick up a plate of cookies from the coffee table and offering them to him.
"Thank you," he said, transferring his mug to his left hand and taking a couple. "I grew up in Westchester County in the village of Scarsdale."
"That must have been nice. Robert and I considered buying a house in Nassau County, but we decided that the property taxes were too high. He wasn't crazy about the commute, either."
"You have a lovely home here in Brooklyn," Ian murmured, taking a sip of his piping hot tea.
"Thanks. It's hard to believe when you look at it today, but the place was a fixer upper when we bought it," she informed him. "Robbie, his dad, my dad, my brother Mike, and Jimmy Pezzini had to do a hell of a lot of work on it before it became inhabitable. We lived with my folks for a while until it was ready. I gave birth to Joey just two weeks after we moved in."
"Sara's father worked on this house?"
"Yeah, we bought it the year before he was killed. He was great with his hands. His father did carpentry in his spare time, and he taught Jimmy everything he knew," Paula told Ian. "He also pretty much redid the entire house he and Laney bought as newlyweds. Joe helped out, but it was mostly Jimmy."
"You knew Sara's mother, Magdalene?"
"Not very well. She was a lot older than me. But I remember her from family get-togethers and weddings and funerals, that sort of thing. I think we might have a picture or two of her and Jimmy that Robbie's parents took. Do you wanna see them?"
"Yes, I would like that very much," Ian said.
"Be right back." She disappeared upstairs.
Ian's bond with Sara informed him that she was resting peacefully, her sleep too light to be disturbed by dreams, pleasant or otherwise. He itched to join her in bed, but he was curious to see the photographs of her deceased parents.
"I think the pictures are in this album," Paula Siri said, returning. She retook her seat on the sofa, motioning to Ian to join her there, which he did. Opening the big, heavy, cloth-bound book, Paula began flipping through the laminated pages, providing the man next to her with tantalizing glimpses of the evolution and history of the Siri family.
"Yeah, here's the one of them at Joanie's christening. Joanie is Robbie's youngest sister, and Jimmy and Laney were her godparents," she told Ian, showing him a picture of a much younger Joseph Siri, Sr. and Marie Siri in a church. Ian's eyes were drawn to the couple that stood next to Joseph and Marie. A slender, dark-haired woman who appeared to be in her mid- to late 20s held an infant dressed in a long, lacy white gown in her arms as she smiled for the camera. The smartly dressed young man next to her was smiling, too, but his eyes were on his pretty wife rather than the photographer.
"I think there's another one of them in here at a barbecue or something," Paula said, turning the pages. "Oh, here it is. That's right; it was Joanie's first birthday party. Joe and Marie held it in their backyard. That's Robbie and Anna Marie, Robbie's other sister, next to Laney and Jimmy."
Once again, Magdalene Pezzini held her goddaughter in her arms and beamed for the camera. Her husband was grinning as he touched the bare, chubby foot of the tiny girl his wife held. They were seated at a picnic table along with several older children.
"That's me, across from Robbie, and that's my brother Mike to my right," Paula said. "That's the only pictures we have of Sara's parents, but I'm pretty sure Joe and Marie have several more."
"Thank you for showing them to me," Ian said. "I had never seen pictures of Sara's mother before, and I was curious to see what she looked like."
"She was very pretty, don't you think? And Jimmy was madly in love with her. Such a tragedy that she died so young. Joe and Marie hoped he'd remarry, but Laney was his one and only love," Paula said softly, closing the photo album.
"I can understand that," Ian murmured. "I knew Sara was the only one for me from the moment I laid eyes on her."
"I'm a firm believer in love at first sight, too," his hostess said, smiling warmly. "Marie likes to joke that Robbie was smitten with me from the moment he saw me, which was when we were toddlers at the playground! Our mothers put us in the sandbox together, and the rest, as the saying goes, is history. We were high school sweethearts, and we both attended St. John's University. We decided to take a break during our sophomore year, you know, and date other people." Paula made a face. "But that didn't last long. I was miserable when I didn't see him for more than a couple of days, and he felt the same way. He popped the question a month after we graduated and I didn't even have to think twice."
"I would love to ask Sara to marry me," Ian blurted out without thinking. "But I am not free to do so at this time."
Paula nodded in understanding. "Sara told me that your father doesn't approve of her. Kenneth Irons is your father, isn't he?"
Ian's startled eyes met hers. "How did you know? Did Sara tell you?"
Paula shook her head. "No. I guessed. Don't worry; your secret is safe with me, Ian," she said, patting his leg reassuringly
"I suppose you also know that Sara and I are hiding out here from my father."
"Yeah, well, that story about you falling off a roof raised a lot more questions than it answered for me and Robbie," Paula said wryly. "We became really worried when we heard on the news that a female detective was missing at the scene of a drug bust and a firefight between unknown forces. We were afraid it was Sara, but nobody at the 11th Precinct would tell us anything. We were very relieved when they announced on the news that the female detective had been found safe and sound. But then later on, they mentioned that the heavily armed men the police captured at the burning warehouse were suspected of being part of the same group that was attacking your father's estate in Scarsdale. Next thing we know, you and Sara show up here, and you're badly injured." She shrugged. "I just put two and two together."
"I defied my father to be with Sara," Ian admitted quietly. "But he will not tolerate my defiance for much longer. Nor will he ever give his consent for me to marry her."
"You're a grown man, Ian. Surely, he can't stop you from marrying whoever you want to marry. Or are you afraid he'll cut you off from your inheritance?"
Ian immediately shook his head. "I could care less about my inheritance. Sara and the ba-- . . . Sara is all I care about."
"She also told me that she might be pregnant, Ian," Paula said gently. "I think you'll make a great father."
"You do?" he asked wistfully. "I did not have the best role model in that respect." His expression became troubled. "My father is very . . . controlling. He is not used to being defied, and he will go to great lengths to force me to do his bidding." He hesitated. "I am afraid it is not safe for Sara and I to remain here much longer," he finally said slowly.
"It's like that, is it?" Paula said, sipping her tea, apparently unruffled by the implied threat to her and her family.
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Hmmm. Tell me, what would your father do if you and Sara eloped?"
"I am fairly certain he would find some way to annul the marriage. Money can buy just about anything, and that, as you know, is something my father has no shortage of. Besides, I seriously doubt I could convince Sara to elope with me. She does not love me," he said matter-of-factly.
"Give her time, Ian. All of this is very new to her. She's just scared," she assured him, squeezing his arm comfortingly.
"Unfortunately, time is something we have precious little of," Ian sighed. "My father will not take no for an answer where I am concerned, nor will he hesitate to take drastic measures to force me to return to the estate. I cannot conscience placing you and your family in harm's way. Therefore, Sara and I have decided to leave tomorrow morning. I am sorry to have to burden you with this, Paula. You and your husband have gone out of your way to make me feel as though I am a part of this family, and I will never forget your kindness for as long as I live."
"Like it or not, you are a part of this family now, Ian. And between the two of you, I'm positive you'll figure out a way to be together. Besides, no matter how rich and powerful your father is, even he can't do anything about the weather!"
"The street in front of the house will be plowed soon, and that means there will no longer be any obstacle stopping the men my father has undoubtedly sent to retrieve me from attempting to do so," Ian said, deciding to be blunt.
"Granted, but I just heard on the news that another storm is headed this way. We could get another foot of snow by tomorrow night. If the city doesn't get around to plowing the street before then, you and Sara should still be safe here."
Ian considered this latest development for a moment then regretfully shook his head. "No. It is too risky. I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you or your family, Paula. Sara and I will leave tomorrow morning as planned."
"But where will you go?"
"It is best if you do not know our whereabouts, but we will call you to let you know we have reached our destination safely," he assured her.
"Somebody sure needs to give your father a good talking to!" Paula scowled. "What the hell is his problem?"
"They are too numerous and complicated to get into," Ian said wearily. "If I had a couple of weeks, I might be able to shed some light on the subject. Suffice it to say that 'dysfunctional' does not even begin to explain my family dynamic. Now," he rose, "I am going to join Sara for a short but pleasant nap before lunch. Thank you for the tea and cookies, as well as for showing me the photographs of Sara's parents, Paula."
"You're most welcome, Ian. And remember what I said: Give Sara some time. She's never been in love before, so it'll take a while for her to come to her senses," Paula Siri said.
"Now I know where young Joseph gets his wisdom from," Ian remarked softly, feeling his throat tighten with emotion at her calm certainty.
Paula beamed. "Thanks for the complement. Enjoy your nap."
Ian silently let himself into the darkened guest room a minute later. Sara lay curled up on her right side, clutching a pillow to her chest. Ian removed his sling and his navy blue cable-knit pullover, and, lifting the heavy cotton bedspread covering her, slid into the bed next to her.
"What took you so long?" she muttered sleepily, stroking the arm he put around her.
"I was learning how to snowboard," he said, pressing his lips to her ear.
"Yeah, right," she grinned. A quiver went through her body as the tip of his tongue emerged to trace her ear and his hand slipped beneath her shirt to cup her right breast possessively. "Ian, we're supposed to be napping, remember?"
"Oh, yes. Sorry," he murmured contritely, but his thumb began to stroke her nipple through her bra. "How is your headache?"
"What headache?" she breathed, feeling a now-familiar ache begin to build way down low. "Um, my left breast is getting jealous."
His throaty chuckle set her pulse racing. "We cannot have that." He gathered her closer to him, and she smiled to feel his arousal against her rump.
'Awww, isn't that sweet,' she thought with feminine satisfaction, 'he's happy to see me!' But then she frowned. 'Really, really happy to see me!'
"Uh, Ian?"
"Yes, my love?"
"Is that a gun I feel digging into my ass or did somebody slip you some extra-strength Viagra?"
He froze. "My apologies," he said, easing away from her. Sheepishly, he removed the Glock from his waistband and set it on the night table.
Sara turned over and looked at him. "You armed yourself to go sledding?"
He shrugged self-consciously. "We might have been followed by my father's men. I felt it was prudent to be prepared for anything."
"And here I was worried that these past few days of domestic bliss might make you lose your edge," she said, shaking her head. "Silly me."
"Old habits die hard, Sara," he said softly, unable to meet her gaze. "And the fact of the matter is, we cannot remain here much longer."
"What if you headed Irons off at the pass?" she said after a long moment of silence during which he felt her green eyes study his downcast features.
"What do you mean?"
"What if you called him and promised to return to the estate after Thanksgiving? Do you think he'd leave us alone until then?"
"I doubt it. If I were him, I would want to separate us as soon as possible. He knows that the longer we are together, the stronger our bond will grow."
"But wouldn't he rather avoid a messy battle between you and his goons? I imagine he's already up to his ears in media attention after that debacle with the Russians."
"You have a point. However, I believe he is willing to run the risk of garnering more negative publicity when it comes to me. He is desperate to regain the upper hand in our relationship."
"I know you said we'd have more leverage if we could manage to wait until he's in desperate need of my blood in order to survive, but what if we decided not to wait until then? Promise him that you'll return to the estate after Thanksgiving, and in return for him agreeing to leave us alone until then, tell him that I'll supply him with a vial of my blood. If he refuses, tell him all bets are off; we'll fight whoever he sends to get you and I'll never willingly give him my blood."
"He will never stop trying to regain control of me or the Witchblade, Sara. It is not in his nature to give up, especially where it concerns something he has been obsessed with nearly his entire life. But your plan just might buy us some needed time to decide how we can ultimately defeat him. By the way, Paula knows Kenneth Irons is my father."
Sara's startled eyes met his. "How on earth did she figure that out?"
"When you told her that my father does not approve of you, she put two and two together. She is a very intelligent woman, your sister-in-law. I also informed her of the potential threat to her and her family. She is aware of the fact that we are leaving first thing tomorrow morning, which I still think is wise even if my father agrees to leave us be until after the holiday."
"You're just full of surprises this afternoon, aren't you?" Sara said. "What made you decide you could trust her?"
He shrugged. "She is family," he said simply.
Sara grinned at him, delighted by his response. "She is that. C'mere you," she opened her arms to him and he slid close to her again. Automatically, one of his hands started to work its way beneath her shirt, but she grabbed it, preventing his sensual assault. "Not that I didn't enjoy being groped by you earlier, but what do you say we just snuggle for a while, okay?"
Ian sighed. "If you insist." But then he grinned. "Just think, a week ago, if you had said you simply wanted to snuggle, I would have been overjoyed," he mused, gathering her closer to him.
Sara nodded. "And I'd have been cooling my heels for quite some time while you divested yourself of enough weapons to outfit a small army instead of removing a single Glock. Maybe you have gotten soft, Nottingham!" she teased him.
"In more ways than one," he muttered. "But that is easily remedied!" He leered at her hopefully.
"Forget it, Cowboy. We're practicing our cuddling skills until further notice."
"Cuddling is good," he acquiesced with another sigh. "But wild monkey sex is so much better!"
"I've created a monster!" Sara cried softly, unable to refrain from pressing a tender kiss to his smiling lips. His response to even this slight stimulus was instantaneous and just as swiftly evoked an answering response from her own body.
"Oh, all right," she muttered, pulling her long-sleeved cotton thermal shirt over her head. "You can play with my tits if you must. But the bra stays on."
"We shall see about that," Ian chuckled, turning his attention to her breasts. "Hello, my lovely ladies! Did you miss me?"
More to come! As always, thanks so much for your immensely inspiring feedback. I so enjoy reading it, and it really does inspire me to keep going. Please, keep it coming!