by Elle James
A grunt was followed swiftly by a thump, and all was still and silent but for the sporadic gunfire outside the building.
Creed edged back to the lantern, grabbed it and lifted it high. Phillip Macias lay against the floor, a hole in his chest, where bright red blood stained the front of his shirt. He lay still, his eyes open, vacant.
Behind him, Emma groaned and pushed to a sitting position. “Creed. We have to stop the bomb.”
“We don’t know the code.”
“He didn’t use one to open the case.” She crawled across the floor to the metal suitcase and flipped it open. “Oh, dear God, we only have twenty seconds left.”
Creed raced across the room, raised the lantern and dropped down beside her, holding it high enough to see what they were doing.
“What do I do?” she asked.
“It’s wired to the timer.” Creed stared down at what appeared to be a case within the case and an electronic timer.
“Nine, eight, seven.” Emma spoke the numbers as they changed on the clock. Then she grabbed Creed’s face and pulled it down to hers. “In case we don’t make it, I just wanted you to know, I think I love you.”
With one second left on the clock, Creed reached in, twisted his fingers around the wires leading out of the timer and yanked as hard as he could. The clock ticked over to zeros.
Creed held Emma’s gaze. His breath caught and held in his throat.
The clock buzzed like an alarm waking the late sleeper.
Emma jumped, but nothing happened.
Creed pulled her up and into his arms, hugging her close, his hands skimming over her body. He wanted to memorize the feel of her in his arms. “When you disappeared, I thought I’d never see you again.”
“You found me and saved me.” She cupped his face and brushed his bottom lip with her thumb.
“No, you saved us all.” He bent to kiss her, pressing gently.
She winced. “Ouch.”
“What did that bastard do to you?”
“Just a few bruises. I’ll live.” Her eyes rounded. “Moby.”
“Is being cared for now. The entire fire department was looking out for him.”
She leaned her good cheek against his chest. “Does this mean your mission’s over and you’re going back to wherever it is you came from?”
He brushed the hair away from her forehead, careful not to touch her bruises. “I guess that depends.”
“On?” Her fingers slipped across his shirt.
“Our first real date.”
“Are you asking me out?”
“Sounds like it.”
“Will it involve diving?”
“No.”
“Ducking bullets?”
“No bullets.”
“Smuggling diamonds?”
He chuckled. “No.”
“How will you possibly keep me entertained?” She grinned up at him.
“High maintenance, aren’t you?”
“I have my standards.” She slipped her hand beneath his shirt, her cool fingers feeling great against his heated skin. Even with her eyes swollen and her lips split, she was the bravest, most beautiful woman Creed had ever seen.
“Umm.” He skimmed a hand down her back to cup her bottom. “I’ll come up with something to occupy you.”
“Creed, Emma?” Tazer called through the door. “I’m coming in.” The muzzle of an assault rifle preceded Tazer as she edged around the door and into the shadows.
“Walters is on your left. Check for a pulse, will ya?” Creed said. “My hands are full.”
Tazer dropped down beside Walters. “Ha. Got a pulse, a weak one. But we might be able to salvage something to interrogate.”
Casanova stepped through the doorway. “Royce will be glad to hear that.”
Another man entered behind Casanova. “I’d be glad to hear what?”
“That our uranium dealer might live to spill.” Creed held Emma close to him. “You clean up outside?”
“We got thirteen. Nine dead, four wounded.” Sean McNeal entered behind Royce.
“Glad to see the cavalry arrived,” Creed commented.
“Chief Taggart has ambulances on the way.”
Royce glanced around. “What happened with Macias?”
“He’s over there.” Creed turned toward the body on the floor in the shadows.
At the exact moment he realized Macias wasn’t where he’d left him, a shot rang out.
Emma jerked, her fingers curling into his skin. “Damn. I was looking forward to our date.” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she slid down his side.
Four bullets hit Macias at once, while Creed gathered Emma against him and lifted her. “Emma.” She didn’t respond. “Where’s the ambulance? Where’s the damned ambulance?”
Creed hurried toward the warehouse door, Emma lying limp in his arms, his heart crashing down around his knees. “Emma, hold on, girl. You’re not getting out of this date that easily. And Moby’s counting on you for treats and walks. He’ll be on his feet and looking for you. Damn it, Emma, wake up.”
Before he knew it, he was outside, surrounded by police, SOS agents and paramedics.
“Creed, let the paramedics help her.” Royce touched his shoulder. “She’ll be okay.”
“She has to be.”
The emergency personnel dragged a gurney out of the back of an ambulance.
Creed laid Emma onto it and stepped back while the techs applied pressure to the wound in her gut and hooked up an IV.
Another EMT ran a handheld radiation detection device over her and then moved on to Creed. When he was satisfied they were within acceptable levels, he gave a thumbs-up.
Helpless to do anything, Creed stood by, afraid to breathe, afraid to watch but more afraid to look away.
“Blood pressure’s dropping,” one medic said.
“We’re losing her,” the other said.
“Not tonight,” the man working over her growled, his jaw set, his hands moving over her. “The Devil’s Shroud isn’t getting Nurse Jenkins. Not only would every doctor and nurse at Cape Churn Memorial hate me, my wife would divorce me.”
“Then let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.” They bent to the task of saving Emma.
“Must be some internal injuries. We have to get her to the hospital.” They raised the gurney and ran it toward the back of the ambulance, sliding it in, then jumping in with her.
Creed followed. “I’m going with her.”
The ambulance driver grabbed his arm to keep him from getting into the ambulance. “Sorry, they’ve got their work cut out for them and need room to do their jobs.” He closed the door behind them.
The EMTs went back to work forcing air into Emma’s lungs while the driver secured the door and ran for the cab, calling over his shoulder, “We’re taking her to Cape Churn Memorial. You can follow us.” The ambulance pulled out of the parking lot and up onto the highway.
Creed glanced right and left. He’d come with Phillip and his thugs. One of their vehicles stood with the doors wide-open, bullet holes in the sides. He ran for it, jumped into the driver’s seat and reached for the key in the ignition.
“Creed, let one of us drive.” Tazer stepped up on the running board and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re upset and in no condition to drive.”
“Get down.” He shifted into Reverse and backed up with Tazer still hanging on to the door.
“Damn, Creed, you trying to kill me?” She held on tight. “If you’re not going to let me drive, at least stop long enough for me to get in.”
“Me, too.” Casanova jumped through the open passenger seat door. Tazer dropped down off the running board and spun around the back door and hopped in, pulling it closed as Cree
d spun out of the parking lot.
“She’s gonna be okay, buddy,” Nova said. “You saw those medics. They love her almost as much as you do.”
Creed’s chest felt as though it was caught in a vise grip and someone was tightening the screws. Phillip was supposed to have been dead. Emma was supposed to be okay. How could he be so careless?
“You can’t blame yourself,” Tazer said from the backseat. “You couldn’t know he’d shoot her.”
“I should have checked on him as soon as we secured the bomb.”
“You thought he was dead.”
“But he wasn’t, damn it!”
“He’s dead now,” Nova said. “One less terrorist in the world. Millions can sleep easier, knowing they have a better chance of waking up in the morning.”
“All because of Emma,” Creed said softly.
“How so?”
“She found the diamonds. And she saved my life three times. And I couldn’t save her once.”
“You saved her from a ticking time bomb and Randy Walters. He would have killed her.”
Creed didn’t listen—he couldn’t, not when it took all his concentration not to run off the road. He stayed back far enough from the ambulance and set his pace slower, not wanting to risk running into the back of the vehicle and injuring Emma more or the people working to keep her alive.
By the time he reached the outskirts of Cape Churn, his hands and arms were cramped and his head and chest ached with all the thoughts swirling around inside. Was Emma okay?
Creed pulled up behind the ambulance in the emergency entrance, jumped out and followed as they wheeled Emma into the hospital. Her face was pale beneath the oxygen mask, and she was breathing through a tube.
They rolled her into the hospital.
“Sounds like she has a collapsed lung, and no telling what other internal injuries,” the lead EMT said.
A man in a white coat ran alongside the gurney. “We’ll need to get her prepped for surgery.” They wheeled her past the examination rooms and straight into the elevator. With so many attending, Creed couldn’t fit with her. As the elevator doors slid closed, Creed watched Emma’s face, praying it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.
“Sir, you can wait in the surgery waiting room, if you’d like.” The pretty nurse Jenna touched his arm. “I’d be happy to show you where.”
“Creed.” Tazer ran toward him. “We parked the vehicle out of the way. What’s happening with the girl?”
“Emma.” He ran a hand through his hair, standing it on end. “They took her straight to surgery.”
“That bad?” Nova asked. “Poor kid.”
“Emma’s a fighter. I’ve never known a nicer, more compassionate nurse, or a stronger woman,” Jenna said with a soft smile. “She’ll be okay.”
Creed wanted to believe Jenna. The alternative wasn’t thinkable. The few days he’d spent with Emma had been crazy, hectic, dangerous and more wonderful than any other time in his life. He wanted to dive with her again. To explore new places and to experience life with her by his side, pointing out how he could make a difference.
Emma made him feel useful, loved and like he had a real purpose in life. Having just found her—no, having finally found her—he didn’t want to lose another day with her.
Jenna led the way to the waiting room on the second floor, fixed a fresh batch of coffee in the coffeemaker and left him in the company of Tazer and Casanova.
With nothing but time and worry on his hands, Creed called the police dispatcher and asked if she knew the status of Emma Jenkins’s dog.
“Moby? Since I’ve had more calls about Emma and Moby than anything else tonight, I got hold of the vet who reports that Moby is going to be fine. He’s all stitched up, has been given antibiotics and a sedative and should sleep through the night. By morning, the vet expects he’ll be yowling for Emma.”
Creed thanked the dispatcher, amazed at how this small town looked out for everyone else and their dog.
Royce and Sean McNeal entered the waiting room an hour later.
“We left the police to clean up the mess of Macias’s and Walters’s hired guns.”
“What I want to know is how Walters got enriched uranium?”
Royce grinned. “Once he knew he wasn’t getting away with anything, Walters was ready to squeal like a stuck pig. From what we’d learned through our background check and what he told us, Randall Walters worked for an oil company out of Saudi up until a year ago when he quit his job. But not until after he’d made a few contacts and discovered, among Iranian dissidents, the source of the stolen enriched uranium. He came back to America to find a quiet location along the coast to bring in the uranium and lucked into the job at the hospital, where he got the funding for his little project.
“He made the plans and had the cargo shipped to the States in the crate you saw in that warehouse. We have the biohazard team working on moving the uranium to a safe location.”
Creed glanced up when the nurse passed in the hallway outside the waiting room, his mind on Emma, not uranium.
“So what happens now?”
“The uranium will be disposed of, and Walters will go to jail.”
“Good.” Creed ran a hand through his hair. “What’s taking them so damned long?”
Tazer laid a hand on his arm. “Emma’s tough. She’s going to pull through just fine.”
Another hour passed, and still no word on Emma.
Creed paced, Tazer and Nova stopped trying to reassure him and Royce took a seat—all his teammates were there for him, no matter the outcome.
Sweat beaded on his upper lip the more he paced and the longer it took for the doctor to complete his work and deliver his prognosis for Emma’s recovery. Night crept into morning. The fog lifted enough that they could almost see the cape and the flotilla of sailboats anchored near the marina. The sun had broken through the low-lying clouds and started on its upward climb into the sky by the time the doctor stepped through the doors into the waiting room.
“Ms. Jenkins has stabilized. We patched what we could find that was torn or broken when the bullet went through her. She’ll be out of it, probably until tomorrow morning, in a drug-induced sleep. You might as well go home.”
“I’m staying,” Creed said.
“We’re moving her to ICU for the night, but we expect she’ll be ready to move into a regular room by tomorrow morning. She’s lucky the bullet went all the way through and didn’t hit any vital organs.” The doctor gave them a tired smile. “We’re just glad she made it. Nurse Jenkins is special.”
And how Creed knew it. “Can I stay with her in ICU?”
The doctor frowned. “ICU visiting rules are five minutes at a time, and relatives only.”
His hopes crushed, Creed scrambled for some reason, excuse or argument that would satisfy the hospital rules. He had to see her. Had to know she was going to be okay throughout the night.
“She doesn’t have any relatives,” Jenna said.
Tazer stepped up beside Creed. “Does a fiancé count?” She elbowed Creed in the midsection.
“Why, yes, it does.” The doctor grinned. “This is news to me. Why didn’t she tell us? Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Me.” His heart beating faster, Creed dared to hope he could get away with this ruse. “It’s all so recent.”
“I bet she didn’t tell anyone because she’s probably still embarrassed after her former fiancé ran off with the hospital money.” The doctor shook his head. “We told her it wasn’t her fault. But she took it so personally. She’s been donating most of her paycheck to the children’s wing fund to repay the money lost.”
The doctor clapped his hands together and stared at Creed. “So you’re her fiancé.” The doctor stuck out his hand. “She’s a great girl. Any man would be
lucky to have her. And I’m glad to see she’s chosen someone who really cares about her.”
Creed felt like a fraud. They weren’t engaged, and he had no right to be in her room. He opened his mouth to tell the truth, but he couldn’t. And what was the truth, anyway?
He wanted to be with Emma for more than just her stay in the hospital. He wanted to be by her side for the long haul. When had he come to that conclusion? And did it matter? The important thing was to get Emma well and back on her feet so that he could take her out on that honest-to-goodness date he’d promised. Then he’d work on making their engagement the real deal.
The doctor clapped a hand on his back. “I think we can arrange for her fiancé to stay with her, if you don’t mind sitting up in a chair all night.”
“Not at all.”
“I’ll see to it.” The doctor left the waiting room.
“Where’s Emma?” Dave Logsdon entered the waiting room, his eyes wild. “Oh, please tell me I’m not too late.”
“Another one of Emma’s fan club?” Royce smiled.
Creed met Dave at the door. “She came through surgery just fine.”
Dave’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, thank goodness. All I heard was she’d been shot.”
“Now that you all know Emma’s going to be okay,” Jenna said, “you can go home and get some rest.” She herded them out of the waiting room. “Emma’s not going to wake until morning. Sitting around the waiting room won’t make her wake sooner.” As the others headed for the elevator, she snagged Creed’s arm. “You can come with me.”
She led him down the hall, passing ICU rooms, opened one and held it for him. “They just settled her in.”
Amidst wires and monitors, Emma lay with a breathing tube in her nose, her eyes closed, the bruises on her cheek and eye the darkest spots on her face.
Jenna pointed toward the chair. “Have a seat. I’ll get you a blanket. It gets cold in here at night.”
“I don’t need one. But Emma might.”
“I have one warming for her. I’ll be right back.” Jenna smiled and left the room.
