He didn’t respond to her ill-timed outburst. His intense gaze continued to bore into her as if he was reading her innermost fears and desires. The quiet began to chafe her taut nerve endings. Her newly formed anxieties churned in her stomach, feeding the turmoil that already lived there. He claimed to be trying to save her life. And with every passing minute she became more and more aware of just how much danger existed around her. She had put the reckless driver and the falling urn out of her mind as being just accidents. Now she wasn’t so sure. Ten minutes ago she had been hungry. Five minutes ago she became angry and defensive. Now she was just plain scared.
Then an entirely new sensation invaded her consciousness when he placed his hands on her shoulders. She felt herself being drawn to him, then his mouth was on hers. All the heat of her angry outburst transferred to the emotional turmoil churning inside her—and the passion his kiss created. Her response was almost involuntary as she reached her arms up around his neck. The excitement raced through her body, touching every corner of her consciousness.
He caressed her shoulders then wrapped her fully in his embrace. This was as wrong as anything he had ever done in his entire life, but at that moment he didn’t care. The flare of her anger, the flashes of independence in her eyes, the energy of her outburst all combined to spark his desires beyond the place where he thought they were safely contained. And once let out, those desires turned into their own force of life.
The taste of her mouth, the sensation of her body pulled tightly against his, the fervor of her response—it acted like an aphrodisiac on his already stimulated senses. He ran his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. Everything about her—
The explosion of glass ripped through the drapes and flew across the table into their food. Brad winced in pain, grabbing his left arm where the bullet grazed him. There was no time to give it any further attention. He moved quickly, almost instinctively. He shoved Tara to the floor and protectively covered her body with his. He yanked the lamp cord from the electrical outlet, plunging the room into darkness.
“Are you all right?” His words were rushed as his mind raced to evaluate the situation.
“Yes…I think so.” Her voice quavered and showed her distress, but it didn’t reveal any panic.
“Stay here, don’t get up.”
Brad pulled the weapon from his holster and crawled to the side of the window farthest from the door. He flinched when he put his weight on his left arm. Experience told him it was only a minor flesh wound, nothing serious. He rose on his knees just enough to look out from beneath the drapes. He quickly scanned the parking lot, then looked again, carefully taking in everything—each car parked in front of a room, the possible presence of any people. Nothing moved. Nothing seemed out of place.
“This location is blown.” He rushed his words, but his voice held control and presence. “I’ve got to get you out of here…now.”
Tara swallowed hard. Her heart pounded in her chest and her pulse rate jumped off the scale. A minute ago it was Brad’s kiss that had sent her blood racing. Now it was stark terror.
“Is…is he still out there?” She knew her voice gave her away regardless of how composed she tried to sound.
Brad crawled back to where she crouched on the floor. “I don’t think so. I doubt that whoever fired the shot stuck around to verify the results. The risk of exposure would be too great.”
He glanced around the room, the only illumination being the light filtering in around the closed drapes. “We’ve got to leave before the police show up. We walked away without any hassle from one encounter with them at the restaurant. We won’t be as lucky a second time. I’m going to get my car and pull it in front of the room. As soon as I open the passenger door, keep low and make a dash for the car.”
He slowly opened the motel-room door. He maintained a low crouch as he peered out. Lights had gone on in rooms. It would be only a minute or two before people started questioning what had happened…before someone called the police.
He dashed down the walkway toward his car. A few seconds later he leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door for Tara. In less than sixty seconds from the time he slipped out of the motel room, they were on their way out of the parking lot. But now what? Somehow he had to make sure no one followed them, a task made much more difficult by having no idea who or what to be watching out for. His mind searched for a viable plan. He pulled onto the interstate and headed north.
Tara watched him as they drove toward Seattle. Tension etched his face. The hard line of determination showed in the set of his jaw. He gave up no hints of what was going through his mind. Although she managed to compose her outer appearance and sat quietly in the car, her insides alternately twisted into knots and churned violently. Her heart still pounded and her pulse had not yet settled back to normal. Even though the bombing of her car had been traumatic, the circumstances of this incident had left a more intense impact on her. The fear tried to climb up her throat, a fear she seemed to have little control over.
She tried to concentrate on where Brad was going as he exited the freeway. To her surprise he immediately got back on at the next entrance. Her confusion spun around inside her head as he repeated the procedure at each off-ramp he came to. The first time he did it she thought he had changed his mind about exiting and decided to continue north on the freeway. After the third time it dawned on her what he was doing. Their volatile exchange of words earlier in the evening did not diminish her admiration for the tactic he had chosen to determine if they were being followed. Anyone trying to tail them would need to exit each time they did and then follow them back onto the freeway again, an action that he could easily detect.
Several minutes passed before she attempted any conversation with him. She took a steadying breath, not wanting to add to his burden by showing how frightened she was. “Where are we going?”
He glanced at her then returned his attention to the road. “We’re going to eventually end up at my place, but first I have to make it appear that I’ve stashed you elsewhere. We’re going to downtown Seattle, then up into one of the many multilevel parking structures attached to one of several major hotels. At that point, you’re going to have to complete the journey in the trunk. It has to appear that I dropped you off at the hotel and left alone. If asked, the parking garage attendant can say he saw me arrive with you, then leave alone a few minutes later. When we get to my place, we can enter directly from my garage into the kitchen without anyone seeing you. It’s not an ideal plan, but it’s the best I can come up with at the moment.”
Thankfully she accepted his explanation without asking any more questions. He had too many details to work out in his mind before speculating out loud. Was the close call at the motel merely a random shot, someone taking advantage of a possible silhouette on the drapes of two people in an embrace? Or was the shot actually meant for them? And if that was so, how would anyone know they were there? Had he been followed from the office? But if that was so, then why did whoever it was wait so long to take a shot at them?
He glanced at Tara again. Or maybe the shot had been part of a plan to mislead him, just like the car bomb, by diverting his suspicions from Tara and sending him down a wrong path. Whoever had murdered five witnesses with such skill had suddenly become very sloppy with two unsuccessful attempts at Tara in as many days. First the bomb in her car that totally missed its intended target and now this. And to that he could add the other two attempts with the falling urn and the speeding car that she had told him about…four in all.
He didn’t like where that thought took him, but he knew he couldn’t afford to ignore it, either. He knew in his gut that she was innocent, but he couldn’t just sweep aside the facts. He was a professional and he had a job to do. He could not allow himself to be influenced by the way her taste continued to fill his senses and the memory of her body pressed against his. It was as distressing to him as it was confusing.
He picked a downtown hotel at random a
nd drove into the parking structure, taking the ticket from the attendant. He drove up three levels, finally pulling into a parking spot when he was confident no one had followed him into the garage.
Brad turned in the seat to face her. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I hope you’re not afraid of the dark or suffer from claustrophobia.”
She attempted a confident smile, but it felt as if someone had pasted a stupid grin on her face instead. “Couldn’t I just scrunch down in the back seat? It will look like you’re the only one in the car.”
“Not to the attendant collecting the parking fee at the exit. He’ll be on a level a step or two up from the driveway and in a position where he can look down and see everything inside my car. You’ll have to be in the trunk or this won’t work.” He leaned forward with his face almost at hers when a flash of headlights grabbed his attention.
“Duck down.” He tugged on her hand. They both remained motionless with their heads below window level. The sound of a car grew near, then passed without slowing down. He cautiously raised his head and looked around, sitting up when he was satisfied that everything was all right.
He leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss against her lips. He lingered a second longer, wanting to taste more of her. “Tara…” This is business…this is business. Back off, you idiot, before you totally mess up. He shoved his desires aside. “Into the trunk with you.” She climbed out her side of the car, taking the plastic bag containing the belongings she had able to gather before leaving the motel room.
Someone had already killed five trial witnesses, planted a bomb in Tara’s car and had just taken a shot at them. Passion-filled kisses were not the solution to catching a killer and unmasking a very clever scheme. He took a steadying breath as he unlocked the truck.
Tara peered inside. As trunks went it was pretty clean. There was a small toolbox, a couple of blankets and a duffel bag. She glanced at Brad, fought off an uncomfortable ripple of trepidation and climbed into the trunk. Brad showed her the release handle on the inside, then closed the lid.
The panic grabbed her the second the trunk lid clicked shut. Her mouth went dry and her throat began to constrict. She wasn’t afraid of the dark. That wasn’t the problem. But the other? That was a different matter. It’s not that she was really claustrophobic…she didn’t have any problems with elevators. She could stand up and move around in an elevator and there was light in an elevator. But this was different, being confined in a space as small as a car trunk. She had to maintain control, no matter what. Her heart pounded. She felt cold and clammy. There’s plenty of oxygen in here. There’s nothing to be concerned about. It will all be over soon. She tried to shove away her fears by visualizing mountain meadows, beaches, wide-open spaces, blue skies, sunshine…anything with a large expansive feel to it.
The car began to move, down the ramp then around corners then down the next ramp. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to focus on taking slow even breaths, but it didn’t help her racing pulse or pounding heart as she felt the panic closing in on her.
Chapter Seven
The car came to a halt. Tara strained to hear the exchange of words between Brad and the parking attendant—the attendant’s comment about him not being there very long and Brad’s response that he had driven up to the level of his friend’s floor and walked her to her room. Then the car moved again. The bump jostled her when they left the parking garage and turned into the street.
“Are you okay back there?” His words were a little muffled, but she could understand them.
She tried to project as much calm as she could muster. “Yes, I’m okay.” A lie, for sure, but she couldn’t let him know that she was barely keeping her panic at bay. He had enough to worry about without needing to deal with irrational fears on top of real ones.
“It won’t be long.”
She tried to take her mind off the rapidly encroaching walls of the trunk by concentrating on something else. Is this what her life had come to? Constantly looking over her shoulder to see who was watching her? Afraid to answer her phone? A bomb planted in her car? Someone taking a shot at her? And now being transported through town locked in the trunk of a car? At what precise moment had she totally lost control of her own fate? A wave of despair tried to weave its way through fear.
And what about Brad Harrison? When he found out about her former relationship with Danny, he had almost accused her of somehow being involved in a conspiracy, or at the very least knowing what was going on. He tried to dig into her personal life. And in the process he had managed to pull her life under his control just as Danny had tried to control her life. Yet when he tried to kiss her she not only let him, she willingly participated. And to make matters worse, he had ignited a fire inside her the likes of which she had never before experienced—a fire she feared could never be extinguished.
The car came to a halt, then the engine stopped. She felt the car bounce slightly as Brad opened the door and climbed out. A couple of seconds later the trunk lid popped up. The cool air rushed in at her. She quickly sat up, gasping in a lungful of air, then another and another.
A little frown wrinkled his forehead as he held out his hand and helped her out. “Are you all right?” He touched her face. “You’re pale and your skin feels damp.” He glanced toward the trunk, his genuine concern showing in his eyes. “You should have told me you couldn’t handle being shut up inside a small space.”
She forced the words in an attempt to sound casual, but it was far from what she felt. “There’s enough to worry about without belaboring my short stint in the trunk.” She took another deep breath. “Although I have to admit that I’m grateful to be out of it.”
“You should have said something. I would have come up with another plan.” He pulled her into his embrace, providing her with some much-needed comfort. It did more to calm her anxieties than all the deep breaths she could gulp in. A feeling of loss touched her senses when he released her from his arms a moment later. Without saying anything he ushered her through the garage and into the darkened condominium town house.
“Stay here.” He turned on the light over the stove to provide a bit of illumination in the kitchen. “I’m going to close the miniblinds and drapes in the other rooms before turning on any lights.”
She deposited her sack of belongings on the kitchen counter. The red smear on the white plastic bag jumped out at her. She touched a trembling finger to the spot. It was wet. A lump formed in her throat. She instinctively knew it was blood. She glanced down at her shirt, almost afraid to look. A corresponding bloodstain covered her sleeve. She knew she hadn’t been hit by either a bullet or the flying glass. The blood couldn’t be hers. A sick feeling churned in her stomach. The shot through the motel window must have hit Brad, his blood transferring to her. He hadn’t said a thing about it.
She had been so angry with him, yet he had still put his life on the line to protect her without hesitation. She wasn’t sure what to think, but this time she knew exactly what she felt—it was guilt.
A light went on in another room and a moment later he returned to the kitchen. He flipped on the kitchen light. Her gaze flew to the large red spot on his left sleeve close to his shoulder. A shudder ran through her body. Her overwhelming guilt increased, building layer upon layer.
“Your arm! You’ve been injured.”
“It’s nothing. The bullet just grazed me.” He winced slightly as he pulled his shirt off over his head. “It’s the same shoulder as the wound that put me on the recuperative list.” He dropped the shirt on the floor, turned on the water at the kitchen sink and grabbed a towel.
She took the towel from his hand and held it under the faucet. “Let me do that. I haven’t been able to contribute anything very useful so far, but I can certainly take care of this.” She looked up at him, another ripple of guilt and anxiety making its way through her consciousness. “In fact, you never would have been shot if it weren’t for me. This is all my fault.”
“I
t’s not your fault, it’s just part of the job.”
She began to clean the wound, doing her best to maintain her composure and present a calm, in-control manner. He flinched slightly as she cleaned away the blood.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll try to be more careful.”
“You’re doing fine.”
She was determined to show him that she wasn’t helpless in a crisis. “You should have this looked at by a doctor. You’ll need a tetanus shot if you haven’t had one recently and you should probably have a couple of stitches.”
“It’s just a scratch. I’ll put some antiseptic on it and a bandage. It’ll be fine.”
She held his arm in one hand, the sensation of his bare skin sending a little tingle through her fingers. She dabbed gently at the fresh gash. His tensed muscles made his arm feel as rock hard as it looked, and equally impressive were his broad shoulders, well-defined chest and flat stomach. Everything about him ignited sizzling desires inside her. She forced her attention and her inappropriate wandering thoughts back to the task at hand.
“There.” She set the bloodstained towel in the sink. “It seems to have stopped bleeding. Where can I find antiseptic, gauze and adhesive tape?”
“I’ll get it.” He left the kitchen, returning a minute later with the necessary items.
She finished dressing the wound, then picked up his discarded shirt from where he had dropped it on the floor. “Do you want to have this sleeve repaired where the bullet tore it?”
“I think it’s beyond hope.” He took it from her hand and threw it in the trash. “I wish I had been able to grab my jacket from the motel room, though. Not only could it possibly be traced back to me, it’s my favorite jacket.”
She took the bag from the counter, reached inside and pulled out his jacket. “I grabbed everything I could reach while you were getting the car. I couldn’t get the stuff from the bathroom, but I got everything else.”
In His Safekeeping Page 10
