A Valentine from Harlequin

she fit herself against his side, beating at the clawing hands and teeth with a metal-spiked black leather number she remembered helping Tina pick out at Macy’s. “Stay close.”
    “I am close! Oh dear, I really hate to destroy this one. It’s Manolo!”
    Charlotte felt something tug at her ankle. She shook her foot, and brought the shoe down, beating the zombie who was attempting to chew on her. She screamed and John swung about, taking out her attacker with a thigh-high boot.
    “Come on, they’ve thinned out, we can make a dash for it!”
    She grabbed his hand as he tugged her through a slew of lurching zombies. Limping from the attack, Charlotte managed to keep up and they soon landed in the hallway. Alone, they huffed and clutched at one another.
    “Down the hall,” John said. “I think there’s another bedroom.”
    She suspected that was the master bedroom, which Tina had said was where her parents spent most of their time because it was private and cut off from the noise of servants and kids. But if Charlotte and John went in there, they would be trapped, with no means of escape. It could become their grave.
    “John, I’m not sure.”
    He stopped at the bedroom door. His broad shoulders heaved. His determined gaze reached out and grabbed her firmly, reassuringly. “Trust me?”
    Charlotte nodded, giving him permission and promising him her trust. He gripped her head and kissed her long and deep. Hungrily. She knew he loved her, and would stand before her when their final moments arrived.
    Opening the door, they slipped inside the bedroom, done in soft violets and pink damask. The low glow of a night lamp illuminated their tattered attire and bloodied arms and faces. They looked as if they’d been battling zombies.
    Charlotte started to laugh.
    John joined her, and they both fell into each other’s embrace as their laughter segued into tears.

Chapter Five
    “I knew you were the only girl for me,” John said as he stroked the hair and tears from her face, “the moment you sat on my lap in the coffee shop.”
    “That chair was empty when I was going for the sit.”
    “I do have the moves, don’t I?”
    She managed a small laugh, then nuzzled her head aside his neck. He was feverously hot now, and she worried he might grow too weak to fend off another attack. She thought she heard him sniffing at the crown of her head, but he was probably sniffling back tears. They had been through so much today!
    “I’m glad we were able to say our vows,” she offered.
    “I’m glad we were finally able to make love.”
    “Men,” she said. “Is that all you think about? Sex?”
    He stepped back and, taking her hand, he spun her around in a dance move. One of their favorite pastimes was watching the dancing competitions on television together.
    “Mostly. And football, and pizza, and…” He twirled her and she collided with his chest. He kissed her forehead, muttering, “…and brains.”
    “Stop it.” Charlotte pushed away from him, having lost her patience for his humor. “I don’t want to hear you make another zombie joke.”
    “Sorry, I— I’m under a little stress here, Charlotte. You know humor helps me deal.”
    She sighed, acknowledging the truth of that statement. It was one of the things she loved about him. “Let’s problem solve. Are there fire escapes outside the windows? There must be a balcony.”
    He shrugged and wandered over to the patio’s French doors. It was odd that he was being so nonchalant when zombies were likely sniffing them out at this very moment.
    It was the stress. Or maybe he’d become very comfortable with the undead. After all, he had to be. He studied them.
    But he’d never brought his work home—until now.
    Charlotte winced at the pain stinging her ankle. She didn’t want to look at it. She would not. Lifting her chin, she decided to go the stoic-heroine route. Nothing would come of mourning what could have been. She’d face the future with the cards she’d been dealt.
    John stopped in the patio doorway. “No fire ladders, but there are bushes with big fluffy flowers below. We can jump for it.”
    “They’re hydrangeas. Those’ll provide a softer landing than the thorny rosebushes.”
    She tilted her head, noticing how the moonlight shimmered over his livid face. But that niggling worry still hadn’t left her. When she’d found him out on the balcony…
    “John, who was that woman I saw you kissing earlier?”
    “Kissing? You think I was