I let out my breath and my shoulders sagged with relief. We’d made it this far, but I couldn’t totally relax until I was safe and sound in my room.
“Where did you put the thumb-drive?” he asked.
“It’s in my pocket.”
“Good,” he said, his voice tinged with relief. He was thinking it was close…closer than he liked. That guy had been watching the restaurant. It was a good thing he was alone, or we might not have made it out. Ramos figured Carson was covering all his bases, and he shouldn’t have underestimated him.
Ramos shifted in his seat and cringed, thinking the open bolt cutter in his lap had moved awfully close to his… “Can you put this in the back for me?” he asked, picking it up by the handle.
I took it and snickered. “Snip, snip.” I latched it closed before dropping it on the back seat.
Ramos exhaled. “Right.” With the excitement he’d momentarily forgotten I could hear everything he was thinking.
“Anything else you need me to put away?” I asked.
“Nope.” He was thinking he’d have to get rid of the gun, but the lake behind the hotel would work well for that. Shit. Did Shelby hear that? “I think I must be tired or something. I’m usually better at controlling my thoughts.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt.”
His thoughts immediately centered on the pain in his side he’d been trying to ignore. He was pretty sure it was a splinter and not a bullet wound. It would hurt a lot more if it were a bullet wound.
“You got shot?” I asked. Dread washed over me.
“No! I’ve been shot before, and this isn’t what it feels like. I’m sure it’s just a splinter.”
“How can you be sure?” I asked. “Do you feel blood running down your side?” I was starting to freak out. “Maybe we should pull over and take a look at it, especially if we need to stop the bleeding.”
“No. I’m fine. It’s nothing.” He clamped his mind shut and concentrated on driving, not liking that I could hear his every thought. He was fine. Okay? No more questions. It wasn’t a big deal. He could take care of himself. He didn’t need anyone’s help.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The last thing I wanted was Ramos pissed off at me. “Well,” I said, trying to be positive, “At least that’s over with.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “And I’ll have you home tomorrow, just like I promised your husband.”
He didn’t sound very happy about that, but I figured it was because he’d gotten hurt. I kept my mouth shut, but kept my mind open for any signs of Ramos passing out or something. I worried the rest of the way to the hotel, but Ramos didn’t even break a sweat, so I figured he must be all right. Still, it was a relief to pull into the parking garage.
I got out of the car, my legs a little stiff, and took my time straightening up. I watched Ramos carefully for any signs of his injury, but he didn’t even flinch when he got out of the car. He grabbed his gear from the back seat and popped open the trunk, putting everything inside, along with the gun. While he did that, I took off my gloves and threw them in too. I listened brazenly to his thoughts, but they were closed off as tight as a brick wall.
We moved to the staircase, and I worried that with his wound, Ramos couldn’t make it up six flights of stairs. “We can probably take the elevator, don’t you think? I mean…I doubt that anyone will be getting on at this late hour.”
He narrowed his eyes and his mental barrier dropped. His side hurt like hell, but there was no way he’d let me baby…shit! Not again.
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. But I kept my mouth shut, so it mostly came out of my nose and I tried to cover it with a cough. I held my hand over my mouth so he wouldn’t see me smiling, but I couldn’t stop snickering. The more I tried to make it sound like a cough, the funnier it seemed, until I finally just gave up and let it rip.
“Sorry,” I said in between snorts. “I know it’s not that funny.” I giggled. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I took a deep breath to hold it in, and another laugh escaped. The look of disbelief on Ramos’ face made me laugh even harder.
He shook his head at my antics and motioned me toward the elevator. “Come on. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were drunk.” We got in, and he pushed the button for the sixth floor. He was thinking it was a good cover if anyone got on with us, but I was probably right that we wouldn’t see anyone else.
“You bet I’m right,” I chortled, and laughed again.
Ramos closed his eyes, trying to stay annoyed at me. He knew that sometimes when people were under a lot of stress, they cracked, like I seemed to be doing right then. Even knowing that, he found it attractive… with another shock, he realized I’d heard that thought. What had happened? Where was his focus? Maybe it was all the blood he’d felt running down his side that had his guard down.
“What?” I gasped, my laughter forgotten. “You’re really bleeding?” I glanced up at him, my chest tight with concern. “You should have told me the truth before now. Maybe we should take you to the hospital.”
His smile confused me. Then he started laughing, and I realized I’d been had. I was ready to smack him, when the elevator opened on our floor. I got off first and marched to our room with annoyance, his laughter trailing quietly behind me. He had the keycard, so I had to wait for him to let me in.
He took the card from his pocket and leaned against the door to swipe it, still smiling. This close, I noticed the fine sheen of sweat on his brow, and alarm swept down my spine. He fumbled with the key card, and I put my hand over his to guide it through the slot. Grabbing his arm, I pushed the door open and steadied him as we walked inside.
“Come on,” I said, pushing the door closed, and leading him toward my bathroom. “You don’t want to get blood on the couch.”
“I’m not bleeding that much,” he protested, but let me lead him all the same.
“Uh-huh,” I said. “We’ll see about that. Take off your shirt and let me have a look.” I motioned him toward the sink in the bathroom and watched him peel off his shirt with a soft grunt of pain.
Ramos in a tight fitting t-shirt was one thing, but Ramos in the flesh was a whole different story. Hard, lean muscles defined his abdomen and chest, swelling along his wide shoulders and long arms. I glanced away and swallowed, turning my attention to his side where he lifted his arm to get a better look. My breath caught to see the ugly red mess a bullet had made out of his skin as it passed through. Blood oozed from the jagged edges, leaving a trail of red running down his side, and I started to feel woozy.
“See,” he said. “The bullet just grazed me. No big deal.”
“You said it was a splinter. That’s lots worse than a splinter.” Feeling lightheaded, I quickly sat down on the floor and rested my head on my knees, then closed my eyes to fight the sudden nausea churning my stomach.
“I’ll be damned. You really can’t stand the sight of blood,” Ramos said.
“I didn’t used to be this bad,” I said softly, keeping my eyes shut. “But ever since people started getting shot and dying around me…like the first time I met you…I haven’t been the same.” I felt horrible that he was the one bleeding, and I couldn’t even look at his wound, let alone help him.
“It’s okay, I can handle it,” he said. “Do you think you can get my first-aid kit out of my bag for me?”
“Yes,” I said, relieved to do something useful. “Where is it?”
“My bag…”
“Oh…right. I’ll be back.” I didn’t trust myself to actually stand up, so I kind of scooted across the marble floor toward the bedroom. Ramos chuckled, and just hearing that made me feel a little better. If he could laugh, it wasn’t too bad, right? By the time I got to the living room, I felt well enough to stand and managed to find Ramos’ bag beside the couch. I rummaged through it, feeling kind of funny looking through his personal things. Having no luck, I decided to take the whole bag into the bathroom. Maybe he co
uld find it easier than me.
I stood straight with the bag in my hand and faced the bedroom, knowing I had to go back in there but unable to move. I took a few deep breaths to steel myself and wondered if maybe it wasn’t just the sight of blood that made me woozy. It was probably more like a combination of Ramos’ bare chest plus the blood. It was enough to make any woman worth her salt swoon a bit. And what was I doing? I was standing out here instead of going in there to enjoy the view. That was pretty stupid. Instead of dreading it, I should look forward to going back in there. That’s the spirit. Go me!
I strode in with my head held high and found Ramos at one of the sinks, wiping at the blood with a washcloth. Thoughts of pain with lots of swearing came through, so I put up my shields, relieved to have the feelings of wooziness leave me. I took a moment to study his broad back and noticed several scars. Of course, keeping his profession in mind, it probably came with the territory. It was still a fantastic-looking back, broad and long, tapering nicely to his hips with lots of muscles and not an ounce of fat. Yup, very nice.
“Are you going to stand there all night?” he asked, holding the washcloth over his wound so I wouldn’t freak out.
“Oh…sorry. Just admiring the view.” Damn! Did I just say that out loud?
He glanced at me through the mirror, his lips pursed, and an eyebrow raised. “Well…when you’re through, I could use my first-aid kit.”
“I couldn’t find it, so I brought the whole thing,” I said, my face heating with embarrassment.
“It’s in the side pocket.”
“Oh…okay.” I quickly unzipped the pocket and pulled out a larger than normal container for a first-aid kit. Then I realized Ramos wasn’t a normal kind of person when it came to stuff like this. I set it on the spacious counter by the sink Ramos wasn’t using and opened it up. “What do you need?” I asked.
“It’s okay,” he said tiredly. “I can do it.”
“No. I’m fine now. I want to help.” The way he had to twist around to get to the wound couldn’t be easy. Surely I could put a bandage on him.
He sighed. “You sure? I don’t need you fainting on the marble floor and ending up with a concussion.”
“I promise if I start to feel woozy, I’ll sit down.”
“All right,” he agreed. “I’ve washed it out with water, so I think some hydrogen peroxide, followed by anti-bacterial ointment and a couple of butterfly bandages should take care of it.”
“Okay. I can do that.” I thoroughly washed my hands and dried them. Then found a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide, the ointment, some gauze, butterfly bandages, and tape. Last came a package of cotton balls. I pulled it open and then liberally doused a cotton ball with the hydrogen peroxide. I held it up, took a deep breath, and glanced at Ramos.
“I’m ready,” he assured me. “But are you?” He was still skeptical that I could handle it.
“Sure, piece of cake,” I said, wanting him to have a little more confidence in me.
Ramos raised his arm and turned so his side was to me, then pulled the washcloth away. Without all the blood, the wound didn’t look quite as bad as before, and not as deep either, but still pretty ugly. I saturated the wound with the hydrogen peroxide, and Ramos caught his breath from the sting, making his muscles ripple. I pulled away, hating that I was hurting him. “Don’t stop,” he said. “It just stings a little.”
I took a deep breath and tried to ignore his pain as I finished up. Satisfied that the wound was thoroughly clean, I gently applied the ointment until it was completely covered. With blood still seeping out, I quickly applied three butterfly bandages to pull the skin together, then doubled the gauze bandages and put a layer of tape over the whole thing so the blood wouldn’t ooze through and make a mess.
“There,” I said, pleased with my handiwork. “How does that look?” I glanced up to find Ramos watching me through the mirror.
He grunted, his gaze shifting to the bandage. “It’ll do. Do you mind if I change in here?” Ramos asked. “I want to wash up a bit.” He was thinking there wasn’t a shower to rinse off the blood in his bathroom.
“Sure, take your time.” I straightened and noticing his grimace, added. “I have some aspirin if you need it.”
He nodded toward the first aid kit. “I think there’s some pain reliever in there.”
“Okay.” I backed out of the bathroom and started to close the door. “I’ll be out here if you need me.”
“Um…Shelby…thanks. I know that was hard. I’m glad you didn’t faint.” He smiled.
“Me too.” I smiled back and closed the door. A minute later, I heard the water running and decided to get out of my dirty clothes while I had some privacy. I found my newly purchased pajamas and slipped them on, leaving my clothes stacked on a chair.
I grabbed a pillow from the bed and went into the living room, closing the bedroom doors behind me. There was a spare blanket and pillow in the closet next to the other bathroom, so I got them out and made a comfy bed on the couch. I was too wired to sleep, even though it was close to four in the morning, so I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels.
I found the Disney channel, and since it made me feel closer to my family, I settled in to watch “The Little Mermaid.” Somewhere during the part where Ariel was singing, “wandering free…wish I could be,” my eyes got heavy, and I finally relaxed, sinking into quiet oblivion.
***
Light poured onto my face, waking me from a deep sleep. I cracked my eyes open to find Ramos pulling the curtains away from the balcony doors. He was dressed in jeans, a white button up shirt, and a blazer, with his hair nicely tousled and looking ready for the day. He glanced in my direction and noticed my frown. “Time to get up,” he said, by way of explanation.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Seven-thirty.”
“Ugh.” I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair, knowing I probably looked awful, while Ramos looked like a walking GQ ad. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.
“I thought you’d like to go for a swim before we checked out,” he said. “We can order breakfast at a poolside table.”
“Oh…okay. That would be nice.” Thoughts of a morning swim in that gorgeous pool brightened my mood. Maybe life was fair after all. “What time do we need to check-out?”
“Eleven. But that should give you plenty of time for a swim.”
“I guess you can’t…I mean with your wound. How’s it doing anyway? Did you get any sleep last night?”
“It’s fine,” he assured me. “Just a bit sore is all…and yes, I slept for a few hours.” He was thinking that since I was zonked out on the couch, he’d ended up sleeping quite well on the bed.
“Good,” I said. “Oh…I never gave you the thumb-drive…”
“I’ve got it,” he said. “I took it out of your pants pocket. It’s safe.”
I nodded, then remembered the other thing. “What about the gun? Do we need…?”
“All taken care of.”
“Wow, you’ve been busy,” I responded. Ramos just nodded and raised his brows. He was keeping it professional and me in my place. “Then I guess I’ll go put on my swimming suit and grab a towel.” I hurried into the bedroom, locking the door behind me. While it was nice of Ramos to accommodate my desire to go swimming, he was almost acting like we were strangers, and he was just doing his duty. Of course, in a way, wasn’t that what he was getting paid the big bucks for?
I found the bag with my new swimming suit and pulled off the tags, determined to enjoy my morning. I slipped it on, hoping I wouldn’t look too fat. Luckily, it fit me pretty well, and the turquoise and purple print was actually quite flattering.
I washed my face and brushed my teeth, then found a plush white bathrobe hanging in the closet. It enfolded me in soft luxury while covering me up nicely, and made the trip to the pool less intimidating. After running a brush through my hair, I opened the door, ready to go.
Ramos was on his cell but quick
ly ended the call when I came out, thinking that it was a good thing we were going home today. Not that he didn’t like being with me, but…he needed to get me home to my husband where I belonged.
Oh…now it made more sense. He was right, too. Ramos and me…well, there was no Ramos and me. Which was true, but on the other hand, that didn’t mean we couldn’t even talk to each other. The last thing I needed was to feel awkward around Ramos.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked.
“No,” he answered, surprised.
“Would you like to have a girlfriend?”
“Absolutely not.”
Wow, that was pretty forceful. I opened my mouth to ask him why, but he raised his hand like he was going to smother me. “No. We are not going to talk about my love life. Ever.”
I shrugged and smiled. “Okay.” That seemed to break the ice between us, and things went back to normal.
We arrived at the pool, and I was surprised to see how many people were already there. I listened to their thoughts and realized that most of them had come for their morning laps before heading for the golf course. I wondered if they realized how pampered they were. But maybe it was just me never knowing how the top one percent lived, and now I was ruined forever. We found a table and ordered breakfast. Ramos suggested I take my swim while we waited for the food to arrive.
The water was the perfect temperature, and I swam several laps until I was tired enough to get out, which for me, was about ten minutes. I glanced toward our table, and Ramos did a chin lift, thinking that our food was there and I should get out to eat. It was his way of waving me over without the waving part.
I chuckled to myself and obediently got out, drying off with a towel before wrapping it around my waist. The food was delicious, and while I enjoyed it, I was starting to get that homesick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Almost like if I didn’t leave soon, I would miss my chance. I knew it was irrational, but part of me just wanted get out of town.
Ramos wasn’t quite finished eating, but I’d had all the food I wanted. “Hey, is it all right if I go? I’ve got to shower and get ready, and I don’t want to make you wait.”
Secrets That Kill: A Shelby Nichols Adventure Page 8
