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Beachcomber Danger_Beachcomber Investigations Book 8_A Romantic Detective Series

Page 15

by Stephanie Queen


  *****

  Dane opened his eyes almost before he was awake. How else to explain the vision of loveliness at the center of the bright light above him. He was either in heaven—and that was damned unlikely—or he was dreaming.

  It only took an instant of screaming pain in his neck to tell him he was neither in heaven nor dreaming—unless it was a nightmare. Or he was in hell. He’d shut his eyes again as if to block the pain. He didn’t dare move otherwise. He didn’t want to test his hypothesis about being in hell.

  But the soft familiar warmth of Shana’s hand on his face convinced him he was alive and, if not well, who the hell cared? Once he blinked his eyes open again and her gorgeous angel’s face came into focus, he smiled—in spite of the searing pain.

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” He could have sworn he’d said the words out loud but he could hardly hear his voice. Maybe he didn’t want to know what was wrong.

  Shana brought her face to his and kissed him gently as if he were a lamb. A badly hurt lamb. He wanted to grab her by the hair and crush her to him, but a quick check of his right arm’s mobility discouraged him.

  “Dare I ask how you feel? You have more stitches in your neck than Frankenstein. Or so I’m told.”

  As soon as she spoke the events crashed into his head like bombs. He felt like he’d lost the war, but he hoped to hell someone had made Emeline and Preston pay.

  “Emeline?”

  “Dead.” Shana’s lashes fluttered and she darted her eyes away from his. He knew she was the one who’d killed her. After a beat, she looked back, her jewel-green eyes clear and guiltless.

  “Preston is in custody and the President is fine.”

  “Don’t tell me I’m the only lucky casualty.”

  She smiled then and he looked past her warm glowing eyes to see her still puffy lip and the bandage on the side of her head and on one hand. And his heart wept to see her bruised and bandaged. It was as if he could feel the pain she’d felt and wished he could have prevented it or taken it on himself rather than allow her to endure it.

  He reached out to touch her face, but the excruciating pain stopped him. The right side of his neck and shoulder were heavily bandaged. He closed his eyes against a wave of light-headedness and nausea.

  When it passed, he opened his eyes again to see her concerned and leaning close, examining his face and neck.

  “I’ll be okay but recovery will be a bitch,” he spoke as if he knew what he was talking about and maybe he did. He’d been injured before and he felt relatively whole.

  “What do you know?” she said.

  “I know I’ll need you to take care of me, nurse me back to health.”

  She smiled. “The doctor said no strenuous exertion for a few weeks.”

  “The hell with that if it means no lovemaking.”

  “I can find a way to minimize your exertion. Leave it to me.” She kissed him lightly again like the tease she could be sometimes. He loved her for it.

  “But maybe we should postpone the wedding—”

  “No.”

  “Okay, but we might need to postpone our honeymoon because—”

  “Hell no.”

  She laughed. This time when she bent to kiss him, he used his left hand to hold her lips against his, caressing them and taking his fill of nourishing warmth and goodness, the essence of Shana.

  *****

  She stood abruptly when the doctor came into the room with Cap.

  “That is most definitely against the rules. For both of you, Miss Shana.”

  “I couldn’t help myself, Dr. Oki. But I was always of a mind that affection is good for the body and soul.” She meant it. The way Dane held her, toying with her hair the way he always did, comforted her, made her feel the world was all right again.

  She stepped aside and waited patiently while the small Japanese doctor with the oversize smile and kind eyes examined, poked and prodded and checked the monitors and dials.

  The door opened again and another doctor came through with Sassy on one side and Ronnie on the other. Peter followed them inside and gave her a hug and kiss.

  She skirted through the growing group of people to get back to Dane’s side. Then Agent Andrews swung the door open, pushing Agent Goodley in a wheelchair, making the room officially crowded. After his obligatory disparaging remark about Dane’s bandages, he told them what happened with Preston Chambers.

  “It was surprisingly easy to get a full confession with all the names and contact information he had. Seems all the fight went out of him without Emeline.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Shana said. She had sensed the connection between the two assassins. A sigh escaped her, but there was no regret about the fate of Emeline and her lover.

  “He’d planted explosives. Planned to plant the detonators on you and Dane. The plan was elaborate. He had sophisticated knowledge and equipment. It was amazing that we got him.” Andrews paused and added, “With the help of you and Dane.”

  Shana let it go. Even that mote of acknowledgment by Andrews had probably caused a stab to Goodley’s heart.

  Andrews went on to tell Sassy she could have her pie shop back soon, that they were almost finished with the crime scene investigation. Cap filled in his boss and pal the governor on some of the details he’d missed.

  “Where’s Acer?” Dane asked.

  Andrews turned and smiled. “I almost forgot about your friend—or should I say accomplice. He’s still in jail as far as I know.”

  Everyone looked at Cap. Cap shrugged.

  “I forgot about him. I’ll let him out as soon as I leave here.” He looked at Shana.

  She knew why he’d forgotten about Acer. He’d spent the night at the hospital with her waiting until Dane was out of surgery and stable before going home to sleep. He’d tried to pry her away from Dane’s side, but she wouldn’t go. Without her asking him to, he’d brought her fresh clothes that morning, to replace her torn bloody dress. She owed him.

  She tore her eyes from his and looked back at Dane.

  Dane was lying back on his pillows, eyes closed, but she knew he was awake and listening. She felt it in the firm squeeze of his hand

  Shana sighed and stayed at Dane’s side, keeping hold his hand—the one without the needle stuck in it—and wished she could have him all to herself. For a long time. Forever.

  The smile took over her face then when he opened his eyes and looked at her as if he knew what she was thinking. A faint lift of one corner of his mouth confirmed that he’d read her mind.

  She knew they would be together forever. They both knew it.

  THE END

  A Note from the Author

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed book 8 of Dane & Shana’s story as Beachcomber Investigations’ duo detectives. I love this couple and can’t wait to write more about them. Look for the next book in the series soon!

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider posting a review here.

  In the meantime, I’d love to hear from you. Drop me a note any time. I will reply personally.

  Warm Regards,

  Stephanie Q

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  Also by Stephanie Queen

  Beachcomber Investigations Series

  The Beachcombers – Prequel Edition

  Beachcomber Investigations – Book 1

  Beachcomber Santa – Novella

  Beachcomber Valentine – Novella

  Beachcomber Baby – Book 2

  Beachcomber Trouble – Book 3

  Beachcomber Heat – Book 4

  Beachcomber Wedding – Book 5

  Beachcomber Reckoning – Book 6

  Let it Snow – Novella

  Falling for Captain Hunk – Novella Spinoff

  Beachcomber Billionaire – Novella Spinoff

  Beachcomber Test – Book 7

  Beachcomber Love
- Novella

  Beachcomber Danger - Book 8

  Scotland Yard Exchange Series

  The Throwbacks – Book 1

  The Hot Shots – Book 2

  The Romantics – Book 3

  The Beachcombers – Book 4

  Small Town Romance Series

  Small Town Glamour Girl Christmas

  Small Town Glamour Girl Wedding: a novella

  Small Town Hot Shot Bride

  Other Stephanie Queen books

  Playing the Game

  Between a Rock and a Mad Woman

  About the Author

  Stephanie Queen is the USA Today bestselling author of the romantic detective series, Beachcomber Investigations. She lives in bucolic New Hampshire with her family, her cat, Kitty and her fun-loving friends. Besides going to the gym sporadically, Stephanie cooks and crochets and loves chocolate covered potato chips (yes, she should go to the gym more often).

  She used to be a 9 to fiver working in downtown Boston, but has thrown her stylish suits and fancy heels in a closet and now hangs out in UConn t-shirts, jeans and sneakers.

  Stephanie has a masters degree in literature & creative writing from Harvard University and loves to teach classes on writing novels (mostly because she loves to talk). She loves hearing from readers, so send her a note to stephanie@stephaniequeen.com.

 

 

 


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