Fatal Destiny [NOOK Book]

Read an Excerpt

Nick stood before the window, looking out over Ninth Street as rain mixed with snow to create a slushy mess on the pavement. The city had been buzzing all day about the late wintry blast and the impact it might have on Washington's fabled cherry blossoms, which were due to bloom any day now.ppHands in pockets, Nick stared intently at the orange glow of the streetlights, not seeing any sign of Sam or her car. emAny minute now,em he thought. emShe'll be home any minute.emppBehind him voices, laughter and the distinctive clink of ice meeting crystal echoed through the double-sized townhouse he shared with Sam. The Jack and Jill shower had been Shelby's idea. The wedding planner Sam called Tinker Bell had suggested a gathering of their family, close friends and colleagues. Shelby had correctly assumed that Sam would prefer that over the more traditional all-female event. Nick had gone along with it because Sam had liked the idea. Whatever made her happy made him happy.ppBut now she was late, and he was worried. Not that it was unusual for her to be late—the nature of her job as the lieutenant in charge of the city's homicide detectives' squad made her late more often than not. Since she wasn't in the midst of a hot case at the moment, Nick had expected her home more than an hour ago. Now here it was fifteen minutes after the party started with no sign of her, and her phone had gone straight to voicemail.ppHis gut twisted with unease. Ever since her ex-husband had been released from jail on a technicality, Nick had found himself obsessing even more than usual about her safety. Peter Gibson had affixed crude bombs to both their cars, injuring them when the device attached to Sam's car exploded in late December. A glitch with evidence collection had been Peter's ticket out of jail, and the stress of waiting for him to come at Sam again had Nick as tightly wound as he'd ever been.ppShe'd be furious if she knew about the private investigator he'd hired to keep tabs on Gibson. Or he supposed she would. Truth was, she hadn't been herself since the miscarriage she suffered just after Valentine's Day, and more than a month later, Nick was left with nagging doubts about whether she still planned to marry him one week from today.ppThe signs of something amiss were hard to ignore—rather than spend time together, she'd cleaned up her mess of an office at work and devoted hours she'd normally spend with him organizing the closet he'd had built for her in their new home. The Sam he knew and loved—emhisem Sam—would rather be hung upside down by her toes than clean or organize anything. But that was only one sign of trouble. That they hadn't made love since the miscarriage was another hard-to-miss sign of impending doom.ppIt was his own fault—he'd been so caught up in work as the Senate wound down to the Easter recess with heated budget debates, a flurry of legislation and the relentless pace of his campaign. By the time he'd resurfaced from four of the busiest weeks of his life, Sam had drifted so far from him he had no idea how to bring her back.ppHe sucked in a sharp deep breath as he finally acknowledged his greatest fear, thoughts he hadn't allowed himself to have before she failed to show up for their shower. Did she still want to marry him Had he made a huge mistake by pushing for a short engagement And what would he do if she decided she didn't want to marry him after all How was he supposed to live without her after the bliss of being with her these last few monthsppHis queasiness increased as each question added to his overwhelming anxiety. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.p