by Debra Webb
Maybe she was already dead.
Any woman who could kiss a guy like that and feel empty afterward had to be dead.
She trudged back into the room, certain her past experience with one particular doctor was surely the reason for her lack of physical reaction. One look at Cole Danes and she knew it was a lie.
“What the hell are you doing?”
He’d holstered his weapon and managed to get out of bed. The grim, listless expression on his face served as irrefutable proof of the discomfort involved.
“Get your things. We’re out of here.”
He ripped off the tape and removed the IV catheter to reiterate his announcement.
“Now,” he added, just in case she still didn’t get it.
She flung her arms heavenward in disbelief. “Are you nuts? You should be in bed for at least twenty-four hours. There could be other problems. God forbid, an aneurysm related to the injury. Or infection.”
And then it hit her. In less than twenty-four hours her aunt would be dead if they didn’t find her. Her child might be lost to her forever. Danes wasn’t willing to risk any outside interference, not that she believed Keith would call the authorities, but it was a risk. Not to mention, even she had already learned that staying in one place any longer than necessary was a risk in and of itself.
She wilted. Any strength and determination flowing out of her so fast she scarcely stayed on her feet.
“You’ll drive.”
Her hands trembling, she pushed the hair behind her ears and nodded. “Okay.” She gathered the new clothes he’d purchased and the toiletries before heading for the door.
She hesitated there, had to ask the question that now burned like a wildfire in her brain. “Do you think he’ll call?” If he didn’t…what would they do? How would they find her aunt in time?
Danes looked tired, the pain no longer hidden. The lines drawn by the fatigue and pain added a new dimension to his face. Made her see more than the classically handsome angles good DNA had provided. Yet his eyes revealed the most. Despite the physical discomfort, this man was stronger than anyone she’d met in her life. He would not stop, would not give up…and that gave her hope in the midst of her mounting despair.
“He’ll call.”
Again some renegade brain cell took control of her determination to maintain distance, both physical and emotional, between them. “Thank you,” she whispered, her emotions too raw to manage anything more than a murmur. She would never forget the way he’d thrown her to the ground and covered her with his own body, then ushered her beneath that car while the bullets hissed around him. “For saving my life this morning.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
Blue Moon Motel, outside Chicago, 4:15 p.m.
18 hours remaining…
ANGEL AWOKE WITH A START. The room was dark. She blinked. Where was she?
Then she remembered.
The shooting. The makeshift surgery.
Danes had instructed her to drive here. Too exhausted to fight the need then, she’d slept. She dreamed of her sweet little girl, of how their life used to be before evil had intruded. Then the nightmare had begun.
She sat up now and listened.
Where was Danes?
The sound of running water drew her gaze toward the bathroom. Light spilled from beneath the closed door. He must have decided to risk leaving her alone long enough for a shower himself. As if she would make a run for it? What would she do then? Her only option was to stay with him and pray he knew what he was doing.
Why hadn’t the man called?
She switched on the bedside lamp and crawled off the bed. Curling up in a chair near the window, she fished around in her purse for her cell phone. He’d turned it off again.
She turned it on and checked her voice messages. Nothing.
How was the call supposed to come with the phone turned off? His cutting remark that the cell phone could be used to track their whereabouts flitted through her mind. But that was only after a call had actually connected, right?
She shoved the hair back from her face and tried to reason the best course of action. Leave it on or turn it back off?
The blast of chimes as it rang made her jump. She almost dropped the phone. It took a second for her to catch her breath as well as her wits to answer it.
“Don’t answer it.”
Her thumb froze on the button, the desire to press downward a near palpable force.
“It’s him.” She recognized the jumble of numbers and letters. Danes had explained that the untraceable characters meant nothing. The call couldn’t be traced and couldn’t be called back.
“Put the phone down.”
He stood just outside the bathroom door. She could answer it before he reached her. He didn’t have his gun or his holster. A loosely tied towel hung around his lean hips. A fresh, dry bandage covered his recent injury but his damp hair told her he’d only just emerged from the shower.
The burst of melodious notes crackled in the dead air between them, urging her to respond.
“We’re running out of time,” she pleaded. “Please, I have to answer.”
“No.”
There was no hesitation, not the slightest inkling of uncertainty in his expression or his voice.
What did she do?
Trust this man’s judgment? A stranger who’d alternately treated her like a criminal and saved her life?
“He’ll call again, then you’ll answer.”
A third ring rent the air.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I know what he wants. He won’t stop until he has it.”
Maybe it was the soft, however deadly quality of his voice, or maybe it was the sheer determination in those penetrating blue eyes. Whatever motivated her, Angel had to believe. Had to hang on to something…anything. And he was all she had.
She set the phone on the table next to her purse. Two more urgent rings and silence filled the room once more.
Her gaze moved to latch on to his. All signs of fatigue and pain had vanished along with the stubble on his jaw. He looked ready for anything, including her protests. He needn’t worry, she had no energy to argue. She moved back to the bed and drew her knees up to her chest. She didn’t want to be near the phone, wasn’t sure she could resist answering it if it rang again.
She closed her eyes and fought a wave of fierce emotion. Defeat conquered any remaining determination. They were running out of time and she was completely lost as to what to do. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to do something, yet, in her heart she feared that nothing she did would matter. That this would not have a happy ending no matter what anyone did.
The scrape of fabric skimming flesh followed by the metal on metal grind of a fly closing registered his continued presence in the room. She could only hope that he had a plan and was getting dressed in preparation for carrying it out.
She felt the mattress shift, smelled the scent of soap, the one the motel provided, the same one she’d used. Instantly the image of him gliding that small bar over his skin evolved in her mind.
“This is difficult, I know.”
She lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes stung with the tears she could no longer hold at bay. “I just want my life back. I want my baby back home. I want my aunt safe.”
For the first time since he’d barged into this whole crazy mess he touched her in a way not meant to restrain. He tucked her hair behind her ear so gently her breath trapped in her chest. That he could be so gentle startled her. But it was his eyes that did the most damage to her already strained and raw emotions. The intensity she fully recognized, the feral determination as familiar as his face and name had become. It was the one alien element that shook her as nothing else could have.
Need.
Absolute, infinite.
“Tell me about your daughter.”
The request surprised her all over again. Did he really want to know, or was this some method of distracting her so she wou
ldn’t go off the deep end looming entirely too close?
“Her name is Mia.” Angel smiled as she thought of her sweet baby. “After my mom.”
“Where is she?”
Warning bells jangled in her brain. “Why do you want to know?”
He studied her closely for a moment before he answered. “Someone from the Colby Agency could see that she is safe.”
Her hackles rose. “I already know she’s safe. Months of research went into my decision,” she said tightly. “Like you, I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“Fair enough.”
The hint of amusement in his expression only made her more furious. “Just because you don’t care about anyone that much doesn’t mean everyone looks at life through those jaded lenses.”
The amusement vanished. “I’m not jaded, Miss Parker. I’m simply focused.”
She huffed a skeptical breath. “That’s just an excuse not to let anyone close to you, Mr. Danes. There are lots of people who are focused without being so…” She frowned as she searched for the right word. “Untouchable. It’s not natural to be so far removed from life. You have to trust someone sometime. Have to take a chance.”
“Like the one you took four years ago?”
His barb had the intended effect. The old hurt twisted deeply through her. “Yeah,” she admitted, though she’d have preferred to tell him where to go and how to get there. “Exactly like that. I trusted him. Even stupidly fell in love.” She looked straight into those piecing eyes. “And I don’t regret it. I have my daughter because of that relationship.”
She’d been in her last year of nursing school. He’d been an intern at the hospital where she took her training. The relationship had been over as fast and furiously as it began, but she would never regret it. Sure the guy had been a jerk. He’d wanted no part of a child, had never called even once since moving away. But Angel didn’t care. She loved her daughter.
“She looks like you.”
Danes’s comment drew her back to the present.
She nodded. Though she didn’t hate the guy who’d fathered her child, she was thankful her daughter didn’t look like him. Mia had the same blond hair and pale blue eyes as Angel. Not a speck of Dr. No-Strings showed through.
“But I’ll have to tell her about him sometime,” she said more to herself than to the man sitting next to her. She wasn’t sure why she’d said it out loud but there it was.
“He has no interest in the child?”
She couldn’t help smiling. What was with Danes tonight? He was full of surprises.
“I imagine you know the answer to that already.” She felt confident he’d thoroughly investigated her past.
The barest hint of a smile twitched one corner of his mouth and her heart surged at the sight. She was hopeless. She’d been sure that kiss she’d laid on Keith and then the long hot shower and couple hours of sleep would clear her head. Evidently it hadn’t.
Cole Danes might be totally ruthless but he was undeniably appealing on a wholly physical level. No way could she ignore that fact a moment longer. It had to be the stress. Had to be that crazy connection people shared when under extreme pressure.
Like now.
“You think you’ve got me all figured out,” he proposed, that voice silky, sexy and way too deep and rich for comfort.
Why pretend? He’d read her already, knew exactly what was on her mind.
She shrugged, shook her head. “I wouldn’t presume to understand a man as complicated as you,” she admitted. “It’s me that I’m having trouble with.”
His gaze latched on to hers and for one mad moment she was certain he would kiss her. Crazy. The worst possible thing that could happen. And yet she wanted it more than she wanted to draw her next breath.
The tinny chime of her cell phone shattered the air.
Danes looked away first.
Angel didn’t have to move…didn’t have to look at the caller ID.
It would be him.
Chapter Nine
“What am I supposed to say?” Angel’s heart pumped frantically. The passage of time abruptly pressed in on her once more. She’d lost track there for a moment. Foolishly. They should have been planning some sort of maneuver…some strategy.
Danes extended his hand toward her, the cell phone lying in his palm. “Start with hello.”
Another barrage of musical notes punctured her composure. She moistened her lips, exhaled an unsteady breath and reached for the one connection between her and the man holding her aunt for ransom.
“Hello.”
“Where is Danes?” the harsh voice demanded.
“He…he’s right here.” Her gaze locked with the one watching her so very intently.
“You tell that son of a bitch he’s mine.”
Danes snatched the phone away from her and severed the connection. Stunned, she at first thought he’d reacted to her mushrooming panic but that wasn’t the case at all.
“What did you do that for? He didn’t have time to tell me what to do next?”
“When he calls back,” Danes began, “I want—”
“Are you crazy?” She grabbed for the phone. “Time is almost up. I have to know what he wants us to do next!”
“When he calls back,” Danes repeated, his voice cool, calm, patient, “I want you to tell him I won’t let you talk to him anymore. That I’m through playing games. Before I end the call again you shout out that the other man told me what I needed to know.”
She blinked. “He told you what?” Why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t they already rescued her aunt if he knew everything?
“It’s imperative that you do exactly as I say.”
“Wait a minute.” She shot up off the bed, planted her hands on her hips and glared down at him. “You mean to tell me you know where my aunt is? If you’ve been keeping that from me—”
The telephone jingled, cutting off the rest of her intended threat.
“Do exactly as I said,” he reminded before handing the phone back to her.
She wanted to hurt him. The need overwhelmed all other emotions. She punched the talk button. “He won’t let me talk to you,” she blurted.
“Then your aunt—”
Danes snatched the phone from her hand and gave her a prompting nod.
“He already knows everything!” she cried. “Your friend told him everything before—”
Danes ended the call. “Very good.”
Angel sagged down onto the mattress, the barrage of emotion too heavy to bear. “Please, just tell me the truth. I need to know she’s going to be all right.”
She would not cry. Damn him. She looked at the clock and fought another wave of emotion. Only seventeen hours left. They had to do something.
Danes pushed to his feet and for a while she feared he wouldn’t bother to answer. Would simply ignore her plea. Then he looked down at her with something like compassion in his eyes. But it couldn’t have been that simple, she knew all too well. Cole Danes felt nothing for anyone. Yes, there might be a physical spark between them, but that was it.
He would never allow anything more.
“It’s me he wants. As long as he needs your aunt to lure me in, she’ll be safe.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She lunged upward, matched his stance. “How is he supposed to lure you in when you won’t let me talk to him?” God, she couldn’t believe she was asking that. Now who lacked compassion?
“We should get started.”
Angel rubbed her eyes and shook her head. This whole thing grew more and more insane with each passing moment. “You’re hurt, you shouldn’t be doing anything but resting.” Her voice sounded as hollow as she felt. Nothing made sense anymore. She didn’t know what to believe, or what to hope for. If she prayed for her aunt’s survival, did that mean Danes was to die?
What did that make her?
What would Mildred do in her shoes?
And suddenly Angel knew. Mildred would be s
trong. She would do whatever necessary to accomplish her goal.
“The pain is tolerable,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’ll be fine.”
“Do you need me to drive?” She gathered her purse, dropped the cell phone into it.
“That would be helpful.” He pulled on his jacket. From the corner of her eye she saw him wince.
She nodded and followed him out the door. However stoic he appeared, she knew he suffered. Though the injury mostly involved tissue, no major damage other than the cracked rib, there would be pain associated with that as well as the sutures. Since he refused to take any sort of pain reliever, he had to be working hard to tune out the pain. Weakness as a result of the blood loss was likely taking its toll. She’d have to keep an eye on him.
For the first time since she’d encountered Cole Danes she wondered what drove him? Why was he doing this? She knew full well how important Mildred was to Victoria Colby-Camp and the Colby Agency. Was Danes doing the job he’d been hired by Victoria to do or was there something more here? Something she didn’t fully understand.
She sensed there was. But how in the world could she possibly hope to learn the secrets of a man like Cole Danes?
COLE DIRECTED HER to the temporary apartment he’d moved into while working on the Colby Agency investigation. Only a few blocks off the Magnificent Mile and from the Colby Agency offices, the luxurious high-rise had offered nothing more than a place to sleep and change clothes.
“Mr. Danes, how are you this evening?” the uniformed doorman asked as Cole approached the door.
“Fine, thank you, Metcalf.”
The doorman, one of four employed by the building, nodded to Angel. She smiled awkwardly, hesitated as if not sure what to say or do. Cole ushered her into the lobby and toward the elevator.
“Where are we?” she whispered when they were out of earshot of the doorman.
“My place.”
He almost smiled at her surprised look. He’d learned that about her in the past few hours. She wasn’t very good at disguising her emotions, was a hideous liar. Just another of those little things that made her far too innocent to be involved with men like Leberman and Stephens and their cronies.
