by Rebecca York
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think I’m going to have a little trouble dressing for a few days.”
They got the other arm through the sleeve, and he stepped back, relieved to have broken the contact.
His voice came out low and thick when he asked, “Can you button it?”
She raised her left arm and lowered it to her side again. “Sorry. I don’t think I can maneuver very well.”
Bending again, he clamped his lower lip between his teeth as he pulled the fabric over her breasts, then fastened the buttons, trying not to touch her as he worked. But her shallow breathing told him she was just as aware of him as he was of her.
The next task was getting the pants of the running suit on her, and he was thankful that she was still wearing panties.
She braced her hand on his shoulder as she pushed first one leg and then the other into the pants. When she was finally dressed, he realized he’d forgotten something.
“Damn!”
“What?”
“Your shoes,” he muttered. “I don’t want to go back for them. Can you walk barefoot?”
She nodded.
After checking the hallway, he led her out of the cubicle and toward the main part of the hospital.
When he heard someone coming up rapidly behind him, he turned, expecting to find that Waterford had figured out they weren’t leaving the way they’d come in.
Instead it was another man, dressed in a business suit who had his arm down by his side, partially concealing the gun in his hand.
Noah looked from the man to Olivia. She was in no shape to run. And what good would it do them? They might as well be in a shooting gallery, if blasting them was what the guy had in mind.
“FBI. I want to talk to you.”
Noah had seen enough federal agents to be sure the guy wasn’t one of them. Not when he was coming at them with a weapon in his hand.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Agent Barenson.”
“You have ID?”
“You don’t need to see it.”
Olivia’s eyes had gone wide.
Noah gave her a quick, reassuring look, then turned back to the man with the gun.
“What can I do for you?” he asked as he stepped forward, putting himself between the gun and Olivia.
“We should get out of the hallway.”
“Okay.”
“Walk ahead of me. Both of you.”
Noah still didn’t know whether the guy was after him or Olivia. Or both of them.
As they walked down the hall, his mind was coming up with plans and discarding them just as quickly. It didn’t matter whether he got shot. But it mattered a great deal what happened to Olivia.
She shuffled along beside him.
“Hurry up,” Barenson growled.
“I’m sick,” she whispered.
Noah knew she must be frightened out of her mind, yet he was pretty sure she was deliberately slowing down the gunman, and when he gave her a sideways glance, he saw her lips were firmed.
She also looked to the side, and their gazes met. He knew she was trying to tell him something and he wanted to shout at her to stay out of the way. Too bad he hadn’t developed telepathic capacities over the past few hundred years.
“Turn right,” the fake agent ordered.
They turned, taking a side corridor.
“Stop here,” Barenson said.
They were standing in front of a door that said “Supply Closet.”
Their captor tipped his head toward Olivia. “Open it. Then step inside.”
She walked to the door and reached for the knob, but her hand wavered.
“I’m too sick,” she whispered. “I think…I’m going to faint.” Then she toppled to the side.
Barenson cursed and swung toward Olivia.
Taking advantage of the chance she’d given him, Noah spun around, grabbed the guy’s head and slammed his face into the wall.
The gunman gasped as he went down.
Recovering instantly from the bogus swoon, Olivia pushed herself up.
“Can you open the door?” Noah asked.
“Yes.” She turned the handle. Noah grabbed the guy by the shoulders and shoved him inside, where he lay unmoving on the floor next to a pile of cardboard boxes.
Noah turned on the lights, revealing shelves lining the walls. They were filled with various disposable hospital goods. “Get inside.”
After stepping through the door, which Noah closed behind them, Olivia stared wide-eyed at the attacker. “Who is he?”
“Probably not an FBI agent named Barenson. You don’t recognize him?”
“No.”
“Thanks for helping fake him out.”
“I didn’t know if you figured out I was going to try something.”
“I did. And I was thinking you could get hurt.”
“Better than whatever he was going to do.”
“Yeah.” Taking a chance on staying another sixty seconds, Noah knelt and rifled through the man’s pockets. He had no ID of any kind. But in the breast pocket of his suit, he did have a hypodermic needle full of something. Careful not to dislodge the cap, Noah pocketed the hypo along with the gun. Another gun, he thought, to go with the one from Pearson.
“We’d better get the hell out of here. He could have friends.”
Opening the door a crack, he looked out. The hall was still empty. As he hurried Olivia toward the lobby, an uncertain look crossed her features, like she was coming out of a fog. “Shouldn’t I check out? And…and…how am I going to pay?”
He laughed. “We’ll worry about that later.”
Once again, he was making and discarding plans. Hemmings might still be in the emergency room waiting area, but Noah didn’t want to go back that way.
In the lobby, he was still trying to figure out what to do when a cab pulled up at the front door. As a white-haired man got out and shuffled toward the building, Noah walked around to the driver’s side and asked if the cabby could take another fare.
“Where to?”
He hadn’t gotten that far. After thinking for a minute, he named a small luxury hotel, the Royal Crescent. It was off the Strip, and he’d stayed there a few years earlier when he’d wanted a quiet location in the gambling town.
After he’d given the address, he went back for Olivia and helped her into the backseat.
When the cab pulled away, he let out the breath he’d been holding. He hadn’t been sure they could really make their escape, but here they were. On the run from Lord knew who.
Olivia leaned her head on his shoulder as the cab headed across town.
When they arrived at the hotel, Noah helped her out of the cab and into a seat in the lobby while he registered. Because he always carried a couple of IDs with him, he checked in as Noel Feldman. Too bad he’d registered at the Calvanio as Noah Fielding, but he hadn’t wanted to confuse people, like Hemmings, by using an alias.
After whisking Olivia into the elevator and into their room, he tucked her into bed. Then he went out to the well-stocked bar in the living room and poured himself a bourbon.
A New World liquor. He didn’t usually drink, but he figured he deserved a couple of shots.
After taking a long swallow of the fiery liquid, he sat down on the sofa and sipped more slowly.
He had sprung Olivia from the hospital and gotten the two of them away from a gunman in the hallway, but he wasn’t kidding himself. They weren’t going to be safe until they got out of town.
And maybe not then.
He set down the glass on the coffee table and leaned his head back, thinking that his life had taken some very unsettling turns in the past few days. He’d been bombarded with one mess after another.
That sometimes happened. Events swirled together to surround him in good fortune or bad. But in the game of his life, the odds were better than at the Las Vegas casinos. His experience gave him an advantage. Seldom did he encounter a situation that was
totally new.
So what was going on now?
And how did Olivia fit into the balance?
He was strongly attracted to her and he wanted to help her. But he couldn’t deny that she was causing some of the problems. First, there was her brother. The two of them were up to something that he still didn’t understand. Then the guy posing as an FBI agent named Barenson. He could have been after her, although Noah’s gut told him that he’d been the target.
Which made him remember the hypodermic needle. He brought it out and looked at it, wondering what it contained. Too bad he didn’t have access to a lab here. With a sigh, he went into the bathroom and emptied the syringe into the sink. Then he flushed the needle and kept the barrel, hoping he could analyze the residue later.
He wished dealing with Olivia was as easy. He wanted to make sure she was all right, but then what?
Meanwhile, he still had his own problems to deal with.
Unfortunately, he had to go back to the Calvanio. His belongings were expendable, except for his laptop. It had too much information stored on it. Of course, the hard drive was password protected, but someone with computer skills might be able to break into it. The gun in the drawer was another problem. He didn’t want someone stumbling onto it and wondering why he had it.
It flashed into his mind that he might call Sidney Hemmings and ask him to take care of the computer. But that presented a number of complications. Hemmings would have to get permission to enter his room. Even if they could manage that, Noah wasn’t perfectly sure that he trusted Hemmings. And certainly not with the gun.
Noah walked back to the bedroom and saw that Olivia was still sleeping. He didn’t want to wake her, but he couldn’t just leave her alone. Nor could he write a note because she might wake up and panic before she saw the message.
He eased onto the bed and lightly stroked her cheek. She made a small sound and stirred in her sleep. When he slid his finger to her mouth and traced the curve of her upper lip, her eyes opened.
As he’d anticipated, her eyes went wide with panic until they focused on him. He saw her struggling for calm as she took in the darkened room.
“Where are we?”
“The Royal Crescent Hotel.”
When she tried to sit up, she winced.
“You’re hurting.”
“I guess we left the hospital without any pain medication.”
He cursed under his breath. “I was so busy getting you out of there that I didn’t think about that.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. But I can do something to help.”
“What?”
“Have you ever tried hypnosis for pain?”
“Does it work?”
“Yes. But first I need to tell you something. I woke you up because I have to go back to the Calvanio and pick up my laptop.”
She caught her breath. “Is that safe?”
“If I’m careful.”
“But—”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in a half hour. Meanwhile, let’s take care of your pain. Look up at the line where the wall meets the ceiling.”
When she’d done as he asked, he began to speak to her in a slow, even voice. “You’re very relaxed. You’re going to a place where you’ll be very relaxed and comfortable. Where is that?”
She answered immediately. “The ocean. I love sitting and looking at the waves. We lived near the ocean when I was a little girl.”
“Good. You’re at the ocean,” he continued in a mellow, reassuring tone, confident that she would follow his lead. “You have a nice comfortable chaise longue in the sun, but you’re not going to get sunburned. You’re feeling warm and nice and safe. You’re not in any pain. Do you feel any pain?”
“No,” she murmured.
“That’s good.”
“Stay with me,” she whispered.
“I have to get some things but I’ll be right back,” he answered.
When she moved restlessly on the bed, he went back through the steps of relaxing her, and she settled again.
He had made her feel better and it was tempting to take one more step. While she was in this state, he could ask her about the scam with the brother, and she’d tell him what was going on. But he didn’t want to use hypnosis to force information out of her. He wanted her to trust him enough to tell him on her own.
So he only said, “You’re going to sleep on your chaise now. With the warm sun making you feel so good. You won’t feel any pain. You’ll be very comfortable. And when you wake up, I’ll be right here with you.”
“Okay,” she answered in a lazy voice.
He stood up, thinking that he’d forgotten more than pain medication. She should be on antibiotics, too.
He knew a doctor was on call at the hotel and he was pretty sure that with some extra money for the man’s trouble, he’d be able to get the medication from him.
Taking the hypo and the gun, he left the Royal Crescent and walked back to the Calvanio. Thankful for the eternal twilight of the casino, he was able to slip through it and into the elevator. In his room, he quickly packed the clothing he’d brought, along with the laptop.
OLIVIA smiled and tipped her head toward the sun. Noah had brought her to this beautiful, private beach, and…
Was he here with her?
Yes! That was the way she wanted it. The two of them were relaxing in the sun on a double chaise. A very comfortable double chaise. Almost like a bed, in fact.
She was wearing a very tiny two-piece bathing suit. Well, the bottom part, at least. She’d taken off the top to get a better tan. Noah was wearing a bathing suit, too. Not those big clunky trunks that American men wore. It was the skimpy European kind. She could see everything he had through the thin fabric. And she could see that he was hard.
As she stared at his erection, her insides turned liquid. They wanted each other and they were going to make love right out here in the sun.
He reached out to stroke her breasts, his fingers playing lightly over her nipples, sending shivers of sensation through her.
“You’re going to make me explode,” she gasped. “Just like that.”
He gave her a knowing look. “That’s the idea, sweetheart.”
She grinned back and rolled toward him, then winced.
Something was wrong. Her ribs hurt.
When her eyes snapped open, she saw that she wasn’t on a sunny beach at all. She was in a bed, in a darkened room.
Oh Lord, where was she?
Panic threatened to choke off her breath, but she struggled for calm.
Memories surfaced. Noah had brought her here after the hospital.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up. She might be having sexual fantasies about him, but he had taken her to this hotel because he was being kind to her.
She sat for a moment, catching her breath, trying to be honest with herself. There was something about Noah Fielding that she couldn’t define. He was different from any other man she’d ever met. He had a steadiness and a confidence about him that she envied. And he knew so much. Really, she was sure that she had only scratched the surface of what he was. There was a depth to him that she wanted to explore, and a firmness of resolve she hadn’t encountered in a long, long time.
She’d been physically attracted to him right from the start, and she could fall hard for the guy, if she let herself. The problem was, she wasn’t any good for him. Maybe if she were still dancing and felt good about herself, she could pretend she was his equal, even though she wasn’t. He was obviously educated and doing well, and she needed to find some way to support herself while she finally went to college. Then there was that mess with her brother. No, it wasn’t meant to be for her and Noah.
She gathered up a handful of the top sheet, trying to bring the past few hours into focus. He’d done something to her mind—hypnosis she guessed it was. Then he’d gone out, thinking she’d stay asleep while he was away.
He’d be coming back soon, and she h
ad to get out of here before that happened. Otherwise, she’d let him talk her into what she wanted so desperately.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself off the bed and wavered on unsteady legs. When she looked down at herself, she grimaced as she saw that she was still wearing the mismatched blouse and pants Noah had given her in the hospital.
At the time, she hadn’t questioned him about them. But where had he gotten clothing at that hour of the morning? Surely the gift shop wasn’t open, so had he…stolen them?
Yes, probably that was it. Which just proved her point about being no good for him.
She staggered across the room and made it into a sitting area, then found that she was completely winded.
Gripping the arms of the chair, she thought about how she was going to get out of here. She needed shoes. This was a high-priced hotel. Maybe they provided guests with slippers.
The question was, did she have the energy to go back into the bedroom and look for them?
AFTER stuffing Pearson’s gun in his bag and checking the room to make sure he hadn’t left anything important, Noah hurried back to the Calvanio’s registration desk where he checked out a day early. He also left a sealed envelope with a note and more than enough cash to pay Olivia’s emergency room bill. The clerk added a stamp and put it into the outgoing mail.
Noah had just pocketed his copy of the hotel bill when his luck ran out. As he turned away from the desk, he saw Detective Waterford walking rapidly toward him.
“I’m glad I caught up with you,” the cop said.
Noah could think of several rejoinders, none of which contained the same sentiment. Instead, he was imagining a hole opening up in the floor under the man. He could drop to the depths of hell and Noah could be on his way.
The cop zeroed in on his suitcase and computer bag. “Are you leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s find a quiet place to talk.”
Noah shrugged and followed the cop to a seating area at the side of the lobby, but both of them remained standing.
Neither of them spoke, and Noah waited, determined not to break the silence by asking what the man wanted.
“Ms. Stapler left without checking herself out of the hospital.”
