by Debra Webb
She glowered first at his offending hand, then at him. “Just try and stop me, Michaels.”
His grip tightened. “Don’t be a fool, Nicole.”
“Miss Reed, I think maybe you should listen to him,” Martinez suggested soberly.
Her disdainful glare flicked to Martinez. “This isn’t your fight.”
He held up his hands stop-sign fashion and backed off. “Whatever you say, lady.”
Ian pulled her closer to him, an unspoken demand for her full attention. “You know the rules of survival as well as I do,” he ground out.
“Why don’t you tell me about the rules, Michaels.” She struggled against his hold, but he tightened his grip, angering her all the more. “What was last night all about, huh? Survival or retribution?”
One beat turned to five, the tension growing thicker with each. “You had a choice, you decided,” he reminded coldly. “I have a choice this morning, and I have decided.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’ve been there, Nicole. Don’t you remember?” Watching Solomon die and knowing he was responsible had been pure hell for Ian.
She blinked, but not before he got a glimpse of the regret in those wide blue eyes. Nicole sighed defeatedly. “Fine,” she relented, then lifted a repentant gaze to his. “I suppose you know what you’re doing, Ian. And I—” She shrugged halfheartedly. “I’m just totally confused.”
Ian relaxed his brutal grip on her arm and exhaled his own burst of relief. “Good. Martinez will stick close to you and I’ll work the investigation.”
“And what will I be doing?”
“You’ll lie low until we know exactly what’s going on. That’s standard operating procedure. You know the drill.”
Nicole nodded. “Sounds as if you have everything covered.”
Ian held her gaze, urging her to understand. “I will do whatever it takes to neutralize the threat to you, Nicole.”
“Well.” She smiled, her lips trembling with the effort. “I guess we should get going then.” She glanced in Martinez’s direction. “No point dragging this out.”
“You’ll be safe as long as you do exactly as I tell you,” Ian assured her.
She paused and turned back to him. That crystal-blue gaze softened, grew misty. “No kiss good-bye?”
Ian’s chest constricted with regret and something else he refused to acknowledge. Before he could stop himself, his hands went immediately to the face permanently etched in his memory. The feel of her skin ripped him apart inside. How could he let her out of his sight? But, how could he permit this thing between them to get in the way of what had to be done?
As if in slow motion, he lowered his head, his mouth yearning to mate with hers. His eyes closed at the first brush of their lips. Nicole’s arms slid beneath his suit jacket, around his waist, caressing him as she had last night…as she had in his dreams so many times.
She had the weapon in her hand two endless seconds before his body accepted the command to react. Nicole backed away from him, her expert aim shifting quickly to Martinez. “Get your hands up where I can see them,” she demanded sharply.
“Think, Nicole,” Ian suggested calmly, while mentally cursing himself for the idiot he was. He never made mistakes like this. Only with Nicole. “You came to me for help. How can we help you if you won’t let us?”
“Just yesterday you refused to help me. Now I’ve decided I don’t need your brand of help, thank you very much.” She moved cautiously toward the door, skillfully alternating her focus between him and Martinez. “Your keys,” she said to Martinez when she reached the door.
He shrugged as if he didn’t understand, his olive skin a good deal paler than when he arrived.
“Your car keys. Give me your car keys,” she ground out impatiently.
“Okay, lady, just stay cool. My brother is going to kill me. That Explorer’s brand new.” Martinez reached for his pocket with his right hand.
“Wait! Hold your hands up high and turn all the way around,” Nicole instructed curtly.
Martinez glanced uneasily at Ian. Ian nodded for him to do as she said. Martinez turned around slowly, his hands held high. The form-fitting muscle shirt, which he wore tucked into his jeans left no doubt that the man was unarmed. Ian swore silently. He should have warned Martinez to be fully prepared. Not that it would have done any good since Ian obviously had been ill-prepared himself.
“Now give me those keys—with your left hand,” Nicole ordered.
Martinez complied without hesitation.
Nicole reached behind her and opened the door. “Nobody moves until I’m out of here. Nobody.” She allowed Ian one final look before she stepped across the threshold and slammed the door behind her.
Ian hissed a four-letter word. How in the hell had he fallen for that old trick?
“Hey man, are we going after her or what?” Martinez asked uncertainly.
“Go out the back. See if you can get around behind her to cut her off,” Ian told him roughly as he stormed across the room. Dammit, the woman was going to get herself killed. She knew better. Nicole knew the code of survival and protection. So far she had done nothing but act like a frightened civilian, breaking every rule.
Ian cursed again when he stepped into the early-morning sun. Fortunately it was Saturday and his neighbors would likely still be in bed at this hour. He quickly scanned the seemingly deserted street. But his neighbors weren’t the concern at the moment. He shook his head in disgust. Nicole was a damned open target standing there fumbling with Martinez’s keys. His gut clenched.
“At this rate you won’t make it very far, Nicole.” Ian took the steps two at a time.
Nicole’s head jerked up. Instantly, she focused a bead on him with her left hand, while continuing to try and manipulate the keys with her right. “Stop right there, Michaels.”
“I suppose you’re going to shoot me if I don’t.”
Her head came up again. Ian smiled when her resolve visibly faltered. “I didn’t think so,” he concluded aloud, his supreme annoyance making his voice sound more lethal than he had intended.
He walked right up to her, the muzzle of the Glock pressed into his chest. “Give me the weapon.”
“No way. I don’t need any help,” she said tightly, her eyes suspiciously bright. “I decided last night that I wasn’t going to involve anyone else in my problems.”
“Was that before or after we made love?” Ian held her gaze. His entire being reacted to the uncharacteristic fear he saw in her eyes.
“It’ll be better this way.” She drew in a shaky breath, but firmed her grip on the Glock. “Now get the hell away from me, Michaels. People are dropping like flies around me. First my director, then Daniels.”
“No.”
“Now who’s being the fool?” Lowering her weapon, Nicole jerked the vehicle door open and slid behind the wheel. “Goodbye, Ian.”
Without warning, glass shattered, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet street. Fragments from the truck window sprayed in Ian’s direction. Simultaneously, something propelled him back a step, the impact and burn clicking an instant recognition in his brain and sending him diving for cover. Thankfully Nicole was in the vehicle. He hoped like hell she stayed put. Ian hit the ground. A stab of pain knifed through his left shoulder and radiated down his arm.
The squeal of tires and the roar of an engine pierced the still morning air. Then the report of Ian’s Glock, three shots in rapid succession, echoed. Nicole was returning fire. Ian swore savagely and pushed to his feet. Nicole whipped around and quickly surveyed him.
“Where are you hit?” Worry traced lines across her face, her gaze darted back to his left shoulder. “Damn,” she breathed. Gingerly she pushed his jacket away to view the damage.
“It’s nothing.”
She gave him a look. “Yeah, right.”
Ian gritted his teeth when she unbuttoned his shirt partway and pulled it from the wound. He winced inwardly. “I am now fully convinced that yo
u’re trying to get yourself killed, Nicole. Why didn’t you stay in the truck?”
“Shut up, Michaels.” She grimaced. “You need a doctor.”
“I got a partial on the license plate,” Martinez reported breathlessly as he skidded to a stop next to Nicole.
“We have to get Ian to a hospital.” She tugged him toward the passenger-side door of Martinez’s borrowed truck as she spoke.
Ian manacled her right wrist and halted her forward movement. “I’ll take this.” Before she could protest he relieved her of the Glock, then tucked it into his waistband beneath his jacket. “And don’t even think about leaving my sight.”
“Fine,” she snapped, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “As long as you get in the damned vehicle.”
Martinez quickly brushed the glass from the driver’s seat and dropped behind the wheel. “My brother is definitely going to kill me,” he muttered.
“Drive, Martinez,” Nicole ordered as she slid in next to him, “or he won’t get the chance.”
Chapter Two
Blood…
Oh God.
Nauseated and feeling more than a little faint, Nicole stared down at her bloodstained hands. This was by no means her first time to exchange gunfire with a hostile, nor was it her first up-close encounter with spilled blood.
But this was Ian’s blood.
The hospital’s medicinal smell didn’t help. Nicole swiped her palms against the baggy gray sweatshirt she wore. She squeezed her hands into tight fists and dropped them to her sides. Moistening her dry lips and careful not to make eye contact, she slowly lifted her gaze to the man seated on the examining table. He sat on the very edge, poised, intent, as if anticipating the need to make a tactical move at any given moment. His torn and bloody shirt lay on the exam table behind him, the damaged suit jacket next to it. Nicole closed her eyes against the panic that still threatened to suffocate her each time she relived those few seconds between the sound of the gunshot and the moment she confirmed with her own eyes that Ian wasn’t mortally wounded.
The sound of Ian’s smoky voice as he answered some question the doctor asked dragged Nicole back to the here and now. Young and obviously nervous, the doctor pulled another suture through the nasty wound on Ian’s shoulder. He kept muttering something about the injury looking like a gunshot wound to him. Poor guy, Nicole thought to herself, he had to be an intern. Otherwise Martinez would never have had him even half believing that idiotic story about Ian’s falling into a window.
Ignoring the doctor’s concerns, Ian did nothing to lessen the thick tension. His dark, brooding presence would unnerve a war-zone veteran. He had refused the offer of pain medication, and, in that arrogant, dangerous tone of his, had ordered the doctor to do what he had to do as quickly as possible. The wound wasn’t so bad, Nicole told herself again. Just a nasty slash through skin and muscle. Had the angle been slightly different Ian might be in surgery now—or worse.
Shuddering with a chill that went bone-deep, Nicole wrapped her arms around her middle. Ian could have been killed. And it was her fault. She should never have gotten him mixed up in this. How could she drag him into her problems with no regard for his safety? Had she been so absorbed in saving her own skin that she hadn’t thought through the consequences of her actions? Nicole let go a heavy breath. She closed her eyes and willed the mixture of fear and frustration to retreat. Ian was going to be fine, she told herself again. He was safe.
And she was leaving.
She could do this alone. She was a highly trained federal agent. All she had to do was make sure she wasn’t followed when she made live contact with her witness. She didn’t need Ian. Denial rushed through her at that thought. She needed him all right, but not in the way she should.
Suddenly, more from some innate need than true courage, she met Ian’s gaze for the first time since their arrival at the ER. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since they’d entered the examining room. It wasn’t necessary for her to look to confirm her suspicions, she could feel his gaze on her. Steady and relentless, those piercing gray eyes held hers even now, then reached past her defenses and touched her.
Nicole trembled with reaction. The only indication that Ian felt anything at all was the flexing of that muscle in his rigid jaw. He was probably just annoyed that her stupidity had got him shot. Whatever he was feeling, one thing was certain, Ian Michaels was planning his next move. Nicole knew his methods as well as she knew her own. No matter that he was surely in serious pain, Ian would develop a plan, and then a backup plan for that. Analyzing her current emotional state would be part of his strategy. He read her too easily. Nicole looked away. Why give him any more ammunition?
A cell phone chirped, startling Nicole. She took a slow, deep breath and ran a shaky hand through her hair. She was seriously rattled. Of course, dancing with death would do that, she reminded herself. Next to her, Martinez murmured responses to his caller.
“It’s for you,” he announced, offering Ian the compact phone. “It’s Victoria.”
Ian accepted the phone, then placed it on the examining table next to him. Nicole knew he was still watching her, so she kept her gaze purposely averted from his. He reached beneath his jacket lying on the table beside him and retrieved his weapon. He handed the Glock, butt first, to Martinez.
“Don’t take your eyes off her,” he warned. “If she makes a move for the door, use it.”
The doctor made an odd, choking sound of disbelief. “Did I see a badge? Are you gentlemen police officers? If this is a gunshot wound—”
Indignation exploded inside Nicole. “Screw you, Michaels,” she hissed, cutting off the doctor. Those tender emotions she had felt only moments ago evaporated instantly.
Ian held her gaze for one long beat. “I believe you’ve already taken care of that.”
“You bas—”
“Miss Reed,” Martinez interrupted firmly. “I’d like you to have a seat. Please,” he added quickly as he tucked the weapon into his waistband.
“I…I really need you to be still,” the doctor said hesitantly, his gaze darting to the weapon at Martinez’s waist, then back to Ian. “I can’t do this properly unless—”
Ian waved him off. “In a moment.” His formidable focus remained fixed on Nicole, watching, waiting for her reaction to Martinez’s request.
One second lapsed to five before Nicole gave in and plopped onto the molded-plastic, institutional-orange chair. Knowing Ian, he would have sat there and bled to death before relenting. Still stinging from his remark, she mentally recited every vile word in her vocabulary and Ian’s connection to each. Martinez stationed himself between her and the door. Did Ian really believe he could prevent her from leaving whenever she got good and ready to go? Nicole smiled to herself. She would just see about that.
Obviously satisfied that he had won, he picked up the cell phone and turned his attention to Victoria. “Yes.” He paused, listening. “No, I’m fine. There’s no need for you to rush back. I have everything under control.” Another brief pause. “Yes, I’ll do that.” He flipped the mouthpiece closed and tossed the phone back to Martinez.
“I do have other patients, Mr. Michaels,” the doctor said pointedly, obviously finally finding his courage. Or perhaps just anxious to rid himself of present company.
“Of course.” Ian leveled one final warning glare on Nicole.
She produced an exaggerated smile, then, while he watched so intently, she silently mouthed a most descriptive adjective—one that fit Ian perfectly in her opinion. The promise of a smile tilted one side of his usually grim mouth, making her pulse react. Nicole released a weary sigh and for the first time today had the presence of mind to thank God that they were both safe.
But how long would either of them stay that way?
The door suddenly swung open and Ian’s attention jerked toward the intruder.
“We’ve got another bleeder, Doctor,” an efficient-looking nurse called from the doorway. Her gaze immediately flew to Marti
nez, and then the weapon at his waist before he could turn away. “A seventeen-year-old with a knife wound to the right forearm,” she added slowly, her eyes widening with fear.
The doctor spared her a brief glance. “Prep him, I’ll be right there. Almost finished here,” he said distractedly. The nurse managed a smile in Ian’s direction before she disappeared into the hall. The wide door closed soundlessly behind her.
Ian gave Martinez a discreet nod, then angled his head toward the door in silent instruction. No doubt, Ian reasoned, that nurse was at the desk calling the police at this very moment. When the police arrived, there would be confusion, distraction. Too much opportunity for Nicole to give them the slip. Not to mention he didn’t want her position with the bureau brought to the attention of the locals.
“Let’s take a walk, Miss Reed,” Martinez suggested.
Nicole looked him up and down as if he’d just suggested something lewd. “I don’t think so, Martinez.”
“Do as he says, Nicole,” Ian ordered quietly. She shot him a drop-dead look, then heaved an impatient sigh before pushing to her feet. Reluctantly she followed Martinez out the door.
“Hold still just a little longer, Mr. Michaels.” The doctor paused, surveying Ian with a look of concern. “Now that we’re alone, are you sure you don’t want something for the pain? That local can’t be doing much for you.”
“I’m fine.”
The doctor shrugged and returned to the business at hand. Ian needed his head clear. He would have to deal with the police, which wouldn’t be that difficult. Victoria had a great many influential connections. Known for following the rules and cooperating, Colby Agency investigators rarely got any flack from the local authorities. Maybe this time Ian was stretching the rules, but that couldn’t be helped. He set his jaw hard against a particularly fierce stab of pain.
