by Jill Shalvis
Fingers still shoved in his hair, he closed his eyes and drew a breath. “I’d stake my life on it.”
His body was taut as an arrow. She came up only to his shoulders, and she knew damn well he could have used physical force to coerce her to do whatever he wanted, but other than when she’d lost it completely last night, he hadn’t. In fact, he’d done everything within his power not to hurt her, even when she’d hurt him.
Then he opened his eyes and let her look at him, into him, hiding nothing at all. She peered into his face for a long beat and he stared straight back at her, as if he was hoping to hell she was finding the honesty she sought because he couldn’t possibly lay himself more bare.
“The Gaines I know loves justice,” she finally said.
“No, he loves to win.”
Yes, that was true, too. He’d taken great pride in all the cases he’d closed, and that was no secret.
“I realize you have a bond with him.” Hawk said this just a little too tightly, as if maybe he hated thinking about it.
“He saved me,” she reminded him.
He shocked her by reaching for her hand. “I know.”
She stared down at their joined fingers. “Hawk?”
“Yeah?”
“Just before I was taken, I’d been working on the Kiddie Bombers.”
“Yeah? There were a lot of agents across the whole western region doing so.”
“I felt like I was really making a breakthrough.” Her voice trailed off and they stared at each other. “This is insane,” she whispered. “You know that.”
“Insane, but real.”
“He saved me from the very men that you’d like to prove work for him. My God. He did this, he set all this up.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Yeah. I think so. Abby, I’m sorry, but I will prove it.”
Her gaze searched his. “He knew who had me. He let them have me.” Images bombarded her, the terror, the overwhelming certainty that she was dead. And then being all too alive—“He ordered me held captive,” she repeated in disbelief.
“God, Abby.” His low, husky voice brought her back. “I don’t want to dredge it up for you, I just—”
“You just want me to know that the reason I made it out of there alive is the only reason that I was there in the first place.” Sickened, she closed her eyes.
“I think he wanted to make himself the good guy. Your good guy.”
The men who’d taken her had been well-versed in how to get the answers they wanted. And what they’d wanted from her was any concrete knowledge she had on the Kiddie Bombers, which hadn’t been all that much. But she’d been chained up, then left alone in the pitch-black for four long hours before they’d come for her, knowing by then she’d be half out of her mind. And she had been.
They’d just begun to really have fun with her while she’d been trying desperately to pretend she was somewhere, anywhere, else, when Gaines had come in, gun drawn, taking two of her assailants out without blinking.
The other two had run like scared little bunnies while Gaines had freed her and carried her out.
She’d never questioned how he’d known, how he’d killed only two of the four and yet been able to get her out of there without either of them being killed.
It had never occurred to her to be anything but grateful. Extremely grateful.
“Abby.”
She opened her eyes.
Hawk had stepped close. “I hate bringing you back there.” He slid his hands in her hair. “I hate myself for making you think about it at all. But my life depends on it.
“I can’t think this way,” she whispered. “I’ll fall apart.”
“Then I’ll think that way. All I’m asking you to do is give me a chance. Don’t send me to the gallows yet.”
“So what now? Do you think we’re going to go in there and I’m going to sleep with you?”
“No, I think I’m going to sleep, and you’re possibly going to stab me in my sleep. Which is slightly preferable to going to jail.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“Okay, what? You’re going to stab me in my sleep?”
“I guess you’ll have to take your chances on that, won’t you.” She turned and headed up the front walk to the door. Her clothes felt damp and icy, though she knew that was more from shock than anything else because Hawk had been running the heater in the truck for hours.
But she felt as if she’d never get warm again.
He caught up with her with his long-legged stride, and reached out and took her hand in a sweet gesture.
Or maybe to keep her from running. Although where he thought she was going to run off to, she had no idea.
Opening the rough wooden gate, he let her in. There were several low lights lining the walk, illuminating an antique-covered wagon in the front yard and the house, complete with old-style shutters and white lace curtains hanging in the windows. The yard itself was thick with growth. She took her first deep breath in hours, and smelled fresh-cut grass and the scent of myriad different blooms.
Behind her, the gate clicked closed and she knew Hawk was right on her heels. Watching her closely. Was he looking at her wild hair? Her grubby clothes? She glanced back—
Um. Yes. He was noticing all the above, and more. When his gaze lifted and met hers, he didn’t try to be coy or reserved, or anything other than who he was, and he had no problem letting her see him.
All of him.
Everything he felt, which pretty much ran the gamut. Oh, God. She’d never been so aware of another human being in all her life, standing so close she could feel his soft exhale on her temple, could see deep into his warm eyes. He was just so…overwhelmingly male. Did he know the confusion he aroused? Or that when he stared at her like that she had certain reactions she couldn’t seem to help? She crossed her arms over her chest, because, seriously, she had a problem. How could her body react in this manner, when with the other side of her brain she was recoiling in horror at the evening’s events? “This is crazy,” she whispered. “I don’t want to look at you and—”
“And what?”
“Hawk.”
“And what, Ab? Want me?”
“I don’t…want you.” Trying to be casual, she dropped her arms to her side.
His gaze fell to the front of her shirt, which revealed her traitorous nipples, hard and pressing against the fabric of her shirt. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks. He should have at least pretended not to notice.
Instead his eyes blazed with a new awareness, and a staggering heat that almost equalled the explosions they’d faced earlier.
Oh, God. Was this really happening?
“Abby—”
But whatever he’d planned on saying was lost as the front door opened. There in the doorway stood a stunningly beautiful brunette in a cream silk bathrobe that hugged her spectacular curves. Her smile came slow and sure as she took in the sight of Hawk on her doorstep. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
He smiled back. “Serena.”
Serena tossed back her long, thick hair and crossed her arms, which as she undoubtedly knew, plumped up her substantial breasts from a D-plus to at least a triple-F. “My my. I guess hell froze over?”
“If you only knew.” Hawk’s smile remained easy and charming, and completely confident in the manner of a man who always got his own way. “Do you have a room available?”
“Two rooms,” Abby clarified.
“One,” Hawk repeated.
“Two, or nothing,” Abby said through her teeth.
Hawk sighed. “Connecting. We’ll take connecting rooms.”
Serena divided a glance between them, then tossed back her head and laughed. “Oh, boy, Hawk. I think you’ve finally met your match.”
12
STANDING IN THE pre-dawn chill, Abby craned her neck and stared at Hawk. She’d thought tonight couldn’t get any more Twilight Zone–like. “Your match?”
“Serena has a very peculiar sense of humo
r.” He shot Serena a long look. “Any second now she’s going to let us in off her doorstep and put us in a room, and then go far, far away.”
Serena smiled but didn’t budge. “Oh, but this is so much more fun. So.” She turned to Abby. “You been dating him long?”
Abby opened her mouth to correct that impression, but Serena went on. “No, it can’t have been too long, because, after all, you’re still with him.” She grinned at herself. “That means you haven’t discovered his character flaws yet.”
Next to Abby, Hawk let out a sigh.
Abby shook her head at Serena. “You’ve gotten the wrong idea—”
“Oh, believe me, honey. I know how hard it is to give him up.”
Abby doubted that greatly. Hawk was a handful, not to mention most likely walking/talking heartbreak. She could give him up just like that.
Probably.
“It’s a little like walking away from double-fudge chocolate cake, isn’t it?” Serena asked. “Harder than anything, but in the end, you save yourself the bellyache.”
“I’m not all that fond of chocolate cake in the first place,” Abby replied.
Serena let out a deep laugh. “You know what? I like you already.” She elbowed Abby. “At least the sex is off the charts amazing, right?”
“Can we focus?” Hawk asked, sounding pained.
Off the charts? Abby had little reference for “off the charts amazing.” She didn’t want to know, she reminded herself. Okay, mostly didn’t want to know….
Ah, hell. She wanted to know.
“If we could just get a room,” Hawk said.
“Two,” Abby corrected. “Two rooms.” No off the charts sex today, thank you very much.
Serena looked at Hawk, and at whatever she saw in his face, maybe it was the grim set of his jaw, or, gee, maybe the cut over his eye, she nodded, stepped back and gestured them into the inn.
The main room was large and had a fire going, which Abby headed directly toward. Serena held Hawk back. “Sorry about the heckling,” she said softly. “I couldn’t seem to help myself.”
“Forget it.”
“Are you all right?”
“I will be.”
Abby turned back to see her touch Hawk’s cheek, her smile now tinged with fondness and some lingering heat. “Anything you need?”
“In spite of my character flaws?” he asked her drily, but he patted her hand with his.
Serena smiled and hugged him, the gesture warm and familiar, the affection unmistakable. “Food?” she asked.
“Sleep.”
She nodded. “And a change of clothes.”
“That would be—”
“Off the charts amazing?” Serena let out a low laugh. “Sorry about that, couldn’t resist.”
And Hawk blushed.
Blushed.
Huh. If Abby had set her sights on Hawk, which she so hadn’t, she might have been flooded with jealousy at the obvious ease and warmth between them. As it was, she felt nothing.
Liar, liar pants on fire…
She concentrated on the pretty room. The hardwood floors were scarred and covered in throw rugs, the furniture was well used but large and very comfortable looking. Butter-colored walls carried old-fashioned black-and-white pictures from the Wild West. She stuck her hands out to the flames, listening to Hawk and Serena murmur to each other behind her. After a moment, he settled a hand on her shoulder, gesturing for her to come with him, and they headed out of the large room behind Serena, whose hips sashayed beneath that silky robe.
She obviously wasn’t wearing anything beneath it.
Abby glanced at Hawk, sure he’d be staring at that lush body, but he was looking right at her. “You okay?” he murmured.
She nodded. She was okay. Maybe even more okay than she’d imagined.
Serena led them upstairs, down a hallway to the last door on the right, which she opened. Hawk nudged Abby in, and though she was drawn to the small but quaint bedroom with its huge rustic wood bed piled high in fluffy bedding, she immediately turned back. “This is one room.”
“And a bathroom.” Serena pointed to a door.
“But—”
Serena looked at Hawk, then back to Abby. “It’s the only room available, hon, sorry.”
She was lying. For Hawk’s sake. Abby looked at his shirt. Most of the blood had been on the outer shirt, which he’d left in the truck, but there were still some dubious dark stains on his black ATF T-shirt as well.
Why wasn’t she telling Serena she needed to use the phone, that she needed help?
Because there was a voice deep inside that said Hawk could be right. That Gaines was lethal, deadly, dangerous. That thought made it hard for her to breathe so she did her damnedest not to think at all.
After a minute, Serena left them alone, and when Hawk shut the door, silence reverberated around them nearly as loud as one of the explosions they’d lived through last night.
One room.
One bed.
One really beautiful, lush-looking bed that in no time at all was going to be holding a tall, leanly muscled man who drew her like no one else ever had.
But she didn’t want to be drawn.
He let out a low laugh and kicked off his shoes. “You’re thinking pretty loudly.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. But let’s just say I can tell you’re still half convinced you need to call the cops on me.”
Not half, but certainly an eighth…“So who’s Serena, a girlfriend?”
“An old friend.”
“She didn’t touch you like a friend.”
That brought a ghost of a smile. She realized now that he’d put on that carefree, easygoing air for Serena, because he was not in a joking, light-hearted mood at all. “Jealous?”
“Ha,” she said, without any real rancor behind it. Just when she thought she had him all figured out, he revealed another side.
Who the hell was he?
Proving he had more layers than an onion, Hawk pulled out her cell and checked on Logan’s status again, clearly concerned. “I need to talk to him,” he said to someone on the phone, then paused and frowned. “Yes, I realize he’s gravely injured, but—” Listening, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, thank you.” He disconnected. “Damn it. No change.”
“But he’s alive,” she reminded him.
“True enough.” He punched in a different number.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling his cell.”
“But he won’t—”
“No, but someone else might.”
“Like who?”
“Like whoever is at his side—hello,” Hawk said into the phone, looking surprised. “Who’s this? Logan’s nurse? Perfect. This is Conner Hawk, his partner, and—oh.” He paused. “You know about me—he was awake?” He nodded. “Yeah, we’re family. How is he?” After a few seconds, he visibly relaxed. “You’ve just made my day, Callen—no, I understand the severity of his injuries but, see, he’s going to recover. Yeah, trust me, best news I’ve had in hours. Can I talk to him? It’s urgent—” He listened intently. “Yeah, I heard him. Tell him to watch his six. It’s in danger, too.” He paused again. “Right. And no visitors. None, not even a high-ranking ATF official, can you manage that? Yeah, I’m serious. This is serious. As serious as it gets.”
“Hawk. A nurse won’t stop Gaines.”
“Callen,” Hawk said without missing a beat. “I need to get him moved. What are the chances of that?” He stalked the length of the room, his long legs churning up the space in two strides before he had to spin to walk again. “Yeah. It’s life or death. Logan’s life or death—yes, that would do it. Switch his chart, change his name. Disguise him, if you have to. Hell, put him where he won’t be expected. No, definitely away from the ER—” He smiled. “Yeah. That’ll work.”
“Where?” Abby asked.
Hawk grinned. “Maternity,” he whispered to her. “Callen? He’s going to fight this. Tell him t
oo fucking bad.” He listened again, then nodded. “Okay. And tell him—” He stopped smiling. “Tell him to get his sorry ass healed, that’s his job now. That I’ll be there in a few hours. And thanks. I owe you more than you’ll ever know.” He shut the phone, then stood there for a long moment.
“Hawk?”
He looked at her. “He’s bad off.”
Shocked at an urge to wrap her arms around him, she hugged herself instead. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“But still, he made sure I got the message.”
“Message?”
“Someone called, said he was Logan’s boss. Asked about his status.”
“Tibbs.”
“No southern accent.”
As she processed that, he went on. “And then Tibbs did call, complete with accent. To tell him that they found a body at the barn. Unidentifiable, because it’s burned beyond recognition. It’s still crazy up there, the fire is uncontrolled, but they’re presuming it’s Gaines. Do you want the first shower?”
“No, we need my laptop, Hawk. We should go now.” It would give her one answer at least, and she needed that.
“We’ll get there.” He began tossing the contents of his pockets to the nightstand—her cell phone…the handcuffs. He pulled off his shirt, which left him standing there in dangerously low-slung jeans and a pair of socks, which he toed off.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Stripping,” he said as if that was the most natural thing in the world to be doing.
“Yes, but—”
Every breath he took seemed to threaten the decency level of his waistband. There was a gap between the denim and the most amazing six-pack abs she’d ever seen. In another time and place there was no way she could have resisted shoving her hand down that gap to go treasure hunting.
Well, except for one thing.
She’d never been that bold a day in her life.
He reached for the buttons on the Levi’s. “I’m going to shower. Tell me I don’t need to worry while I’m in there.”
Pop went the first button on his jeans.
Pop went the second button.
Oh, God. He’d revealed a wedge of skin that was paler than the skin covering his chest and belly. “Um—”
Eyes serious but warm, he mercifully stopped the unbuttoning. “Look, I just want a shower and some shut-eye. I can sleep on the floor, you can have the bed, I don’t care. I just have to recharge for a few hours, that’s all. Tell me you’re not going to steal the truck, Ab.”
