Living Dangerously

by Dee J. Adams

  * * *

  Troy Mills never expected the night to break down this way. Tonight should’ve been simple. Working undercover, playing bodyguard to a dirtbag producer cheating on his wife shouldn’t have entailed getting shot at. It shouldn’t have him stripping off the rented six-hundred-dollar tuxedo to keep Julie Fraser from bleeding out on the red carpet.

  Yet, that’s what was happening. If he didn’t get her to the ambulance twenty yards away, she was as good as dead. Never in his wildest imagination had he thought he’d meet Julie Fraser, much less hold her in his arms as she died. But that was happening too. The bullets had stopped so maybe the police had snagged the shooter. He had no way of knowing. The only definite was Julie in his arms breathing her last breath unless he did something about it.

  He knew the second those bullets hit her that she wasn’t going to make it without immediate medical attention. 911 would be swamped, so in the two minutes before the shooter moved, he’d called a contact at the police station and made sure the attending ambulance pulled up as close to the barricades as possible. Better put a SWAT team member at the wheel while they were at it because this was definitely going to be a hazardous duty call.

  “Hold on, sweetheart,” he said in her ear. Her sweet perfume filled his head. She smelled expensive. The fact that she thought he’d meant for her to make a run for it almost made him smile. “We’re going to make this fast and clean.” At least he sure as hell hoped so.

  With a last deep breath, Troy hefted her closer to his chest and started running. As soon as he did, bullets started flying again. The first couple missed. He felt them whiz past, one behind him, then one in front. Ten more yards to go. Barricades had been placed to keep vehicles at a distance so the ambulance could only get so close. It waited like a safe haven, lights flashing attendants waiting behind the doors for cover... So close.

  Another shot pierced the air. The bullet slammed into his upper arm almost immediately. It knocked him back a step but he kept going. The heat, the instantaneous and awesome pain traveled to his brain with lightning speed, but he couldn’t stop. The American public would kill him if Julie Fraser died in his arms. He just made it behind the ambulance when two paramedics wrestled Julie from his arms. Troy stumbled and cursed as another paramedic reached for him.

  “Oh, Jesus,” he heard the guy mumble.

  Troy looked down at his arm, at the blood that flowed freely like water from a hose. The gruesome trail of red soaked his white shirt and dripped from his cuff. He stumbled again, but someone caught him, eased him to the ground.

  “Bullet hit an artery,” the paramedic yelled over his shoulder. “We need him to go with her.”

  An artery. Not good. He didn’t have to be a doctor to figure that out. But even if he’d known the outcome, he’d have done the same thing if it meant Julie got the help she needed.

  Troy kept his eyes on Julie as they worked to stabilize her, but his vision got blurry. The throbbing wound blossomed to a full-fledged nightmare of pain as the man stripped off Troy’s shirt sleeve and began working on his arm. Two guys hefted him onto a gurney and pushed him into the ambulance next to America’s Sweetheart.

  Paramedics worked feverishly in the small space. Troy barely registered the stick of the needle for the IV. Someone secured an oxygen mask over his face and the world tilted even more. Their conversation drifted over his head along with the elevated urgency when they discovered they had Julie Fraser in their ambulance.

  Unlike Julie, Troy didn’t have anyone to give a message to. He had no idea where his father was and even if he did, he had nothing to say to the man. His uncle might want to know he’d been shot, but Troy hadn’t seen him in so long he doubted the man even remembered he existed.

  Being alone hadn’t bothered him until right this second when it dawned on him that no one cared.

  Julie turned her head and their gazes met. She’d been on television for years before she’d gone into movies. Though more of a sports guy, he’d seen some episodes of her popular sitcom. Very few things made him smile, but she always could. She had a freshness about her, a unique quality that made her human and approachable. She was the girl next door who everyone loved, with the caveat being that she was an A-list movie star. He tried to smile, tried to reassure her, but this situation didn’t look good for either one of them. Her face blurred as her eyes fluttered closed, then blackness sucked him under.

  Chapter Two

  Julie stared at the sterile white walls of the hospital room and the muted blues and greens of the curtain next to her bed. She wanted out of this place desperately. She wanted her bed and her house. She wanted her mother. After thirty-six hours in the hospital, Julie had stabilized and her mother, barely recovered from the food poisoning, had caught a flight to deal with another family emergency. Julie’s uncle had taken a turn for the worse and it didn’t look as if he’d survive this latest bout of cancer, so she’d persuaded her mother to be with him. Elena had gone from one hospital in California to another in Arizona.

  Twenty-seven years old, and her mother was one of her best friends. That was either really cool or really sad. She wasn’t sure which. Alone in her room, Julie had plenty of hours to think about the other evening, about the helplessness of being a victim and the pain of actually getting shot, about the fact that a police officer lay in a coma in ICU from a bullet to his head. How could someone commit such a violent act? Why? What triggered it? Mostly she thought about how lucky she was to be alive and about the man who’d rescued her. Because of him, she might live to see her twenty-eighth birthday.

  Picking at the scrambled eggs and hockey puck pancakes that had been presented for breakfast, she kept thinking back to those minutes of lying on the red carpet. Had she really made a Chippendale’s crack while he’d been saving her? How embarrassing.

  A different nurse came in to take her vitals for the eight-thousandth time. The hospital staff had been extremely nice, but she’d definitely felt like the newest dog-and-pony show as the nurses took turns checking on her. Which it seemed happened every five minutes. How did anyone think being in the hospital translated into resting?

  “I really loved your race car movie,” the man said, writing notes on her chart. His nametag read Roghene, and his eyes crinkled in a way that reminded her of Jackie Chan. “Sorry you didn’t win the Oscar.”

  Her first film role had garnered her an Oscar nod. Shooting the biopic of Trace Bradshaw’s life had changed her life. She’d hoped the movie would give her a foothold in making the leap from television to film, but she’d never dreamed it would put her on the A-list. She hadn’t really expected to win, so when Meryl Streep had won yet another Oscar two months ago, she’d clapped with everyone else.

  But this incident couldn’t compare with the Oscars. She’d won in the end.

  She was still breathing.

  “Oh, thanks,” she said taking a sip of fake orange juice. “You win some, you lose some, I guess. I’m glad you liked the movie.”

  “I bought it on DVD the day it came out.” He pulled it out of the back of his scrubs. Very ingenious of him to hide it there. “Do you think you could autograph it for me?”

  “Of course.” A shock of pain zinged up her bad arm and sweat broke out on her forehead. He set the DVD on the table and held it down since she only had one working hand while the other was wrapped and unusable against her body. Even in the hospital, she couldn’t get away from the recognition. Sometimes she regretted the career path she’d chosen. She loved acting but she hadn’t planned on the fame. Hadn’t planned on the rabid fans and the constant interruption in her life.

  She scribbled her name and a note on the case and handed it back to Roghene.

  “Thank you so much.” He beamed as he backed out of the room. “I’ll let you eat your breakfast.”

  Julie waved and poked at the blueberry muffin. It turned out to be the most edible and, along with some orange juice and tea, she survived breakfast with little fanfare. She pushed away h
er tray as something caught her eye in the door.

  A man walked slowly by her room, rolling an IV stand along with him. His arm rested in a sling and he had on a hospital gown, but he also had on black sweatpants beneath. He glanced in her room, stopped and stood at her door.

  It was him. Her pulse leaped. Her palms slicked.

  “Hey,” he said, taking a few steps into the room. He seemed surprised and a little hesitant. “I wondered if you were here.”

  Troy. She’d never forget his name. She’d never forget him. Yes, the day had been a big blur, but she’d never forget the eyes of the man who saved her, dark brown and so very intense.

  A little shiver ran down her spine. “Where else would I be?” She smiled and this time it came easily. She owed this man her life. God, she hadn’t even thanked him yet.

  He shrugged, but flinched as he adjusted the sling. He’d gotten shot because of her. Nearly died trying to save her. “I don’t know,” he said. “I thought you might’ve transferred to Cedars. I wasn’t sure. Isn’t that the hospital to the stars?”

  “I guess they were full.” She lifted her good arm and encompassed the room. “Here I am.” She gestured to the chair by her bed. The chair her mother had used for the first twenty—four hours of her stay. “Come sit down.” He looked a little pale. “You seem like you need to get off your feet.”

  Gingerly, he sat down, stretched his long legs in front of him and got comfortable. Those broad shoulders hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. “So. How’re you feeling?”

  “Probably about the same as you.”

  She’d had her mother check on him, but the hospital staff had been very closemouthed about his condition, citing patient confidentiality. They’d learned very little other than—like her—he’d survived and needed a blood transfusion. Elena had donated her universal type O blood.

  His lips quirked up. It was almost a grin. “I’m okay. This won’t slow me down for long.”

  Relief made her feel ten times better. “That’s good. Thank you,” she said, needing to get right to the point. “I never thanked you out there. You were crazy brave.”

  He tipped his head to downplay the compliment. “Anybody would’ve done it.”

  She laughed and said something very unladylike. Everyone in America still thought of her as a Goody Two-Shoes, and any time she let a foul word fly she got the same reaction. She said it again to make sure she had his attention. “Bullshit. Not anybody would’ve done it.” Her mother had told her that the press had skewered the unknown man who’d risked her life by making that run to the ambulance. What the public didn’t know was that she had been minutes away from bleeding out. Staying on that red carpet would’ve meant certain death. He’d had nothing to lose, except his own life. “Most people would’ve realized there was a good chance of getting shot.” She lifted an eyebrow to get her point across.

  He watched her with those intense dark eyes. He had a day’s growth of dark stubble on his jaw and looked like the ultimate bad boy. So different than the clean-shaven man in the tuxedo who’d saved her. She itched to run her fingers through his messy hair. He shrugged again. “I did what I had to do. I couldn’t let you bleed out on the red carpet. It would’ve upset America.”

  She grinned. Her star definitely had been burning bright the past six or seven years. The Sporties might not have been as high profile as the Oscars but dying on any red carpet would’ve have made her a Hollywood legend. Not that she wanted fame that bad, or in that way. She definitely did not.

  “How did you manage to keep your name out of the news?” she asked. “That trick alone is worthy of Houdini. TMZ is everywhere. How did you dodge them?”

  He looked over his shoulder, then leaned forward. “I told the hospital staff I was in the witness protection program,” he whispered. “Outing me could get me killed and since I saved you, they all want to protect me.” He put his finger to his lips. “Shh.”

  Julie’s unbelieving grin turned into openmouthed appreciation. “Wow. Nice one.” She liked that quick thinking. It told her he didn’t like the limelight, which told her he was a private man. “So you saved me and got shot in the process. That’s kind of a raw deal, wouldn’t you say?” She wanted the truth. He had to be a little pissed at her. She’d screwed with his life in a major way despite it being unintentional. God, what if he was one of the athletes who had been nominated for an award? What if she’d sidelined his career?

  He shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “I knew exactly what I was in for.”

  Okay. No doubt about it. The way his eyes locked onto hers. The absolute certainty that helping her meant a good chance of getting shot himself...and he’d gone and done it anyway.

  That was extremely admirable. And sexy as hell.

  * * *

  Troy couldn’t believe he was sitting in Julie Fraser’s hospital room having a conversation with her. He’d pretty much expected to never see her again. Not because he thought she might die, but because he hadn’t expected to survive. There’d been a few minutes there when he’d seen a giant white light and felt the peace surrounding it. He’d been suspended, almost floating toward it when everything had gone black.

  Life always surprised him.

  Her pretty blue eyes narrowed. “Why?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you’d risk your life like that.”

  He almost didn’t either. He shrugged his good shoulder. “Because not risking it meant you died and I couldn’t sit around and watch it happen.” It was hard enough seeing her lying in a hospital bed with her arm bandaged and strapped against her chest, knowing her whole midsection had to be heavily bandaged as well.

  Her gaze softened as she studied him. “Are you always so noble?” She looked so serious when all he wanted was to see her beautiful smile.

  “Never. You caught me on a good day.”

  The room lit up when she grinned and something inside him clicked on. He’d been living life in a dreary bubble and her smile had popped it fast. When was the last time he’d wanted to smile? He couldn’t remember.

  “Lucky me. If you’re not so noble, what are you usually?”

  “Usually...I’m a giant pain in the ass.” He could tell her to ask his friends, but he didn’t have too many friends. That sounded pretty damn pathetic even to him. He had an assistant, but the kid was too young to be a friend, and the guys at the gym had pretty much given up on any social time with him. Maybe working himself into the ground wasn’t the best way to live life, but it sure as hell beat thinking about his past.

  “I don’t believe you.” Her grin turned her face from pretty to stunning. She didn’t need an ounce of makeup to make a man hard. He still had to get used to her new hair color too. The honey blond softened her features, made her blue eyes sharper and rendered her that much more attractive. At the moment, the thick blond mass was secured in a ponytail and made her look like a co-ed. “Giant pains in the ass very rarely recognize that trait. That’s one of the things that make them giant pains in the ass.” She lifted one arched eyebrow.

  He grinned again. Apparently she didn’t need a script to be funny. She’d kept her sense of humor while bleeding out on the red carpet too. That trick alone deserved serious recognition.

  “For the record, I’m going out on a limb to say you are anything but a pain, but since I don’t know you very well, I’ll reserve the right to backpedal.” Her eyes sparkled with humor.

  “Sounds like a good plan,” he agreed with a nod.

  She watched him for a few seconds, and it dawned on him that she’d left the door open wide for an invitation. He had an opportunity to get to know her better. The idea sounded as appealing as it was dangerous. At any other time or under nearly any other circumstances, he might have jumped at the chance, but with his current assignment, there was no way in hell to walk through this door. It was way past time to go back to his room. Stopping here may have been instinctual, but also amazingly stupid. He’d been doing laps around the floor
and had been ready to drop by the time he got to her room. He’d had no idea she’d been down the hall the whole time. He pulled his legs up, ready to leave.

  “Wait,” she said. “You’re not going are you? You just got here.”

  “Yeah...” Troy said. “I don’t want to take up all your time.”

  She snorted. “Oh, right. Because I’m so busy, having my pulse taken every twenty minutes.” She rolled her eyes. “Please. Stay. Unless you don’t want to,” she added.

  Oh, he definitely wanted to, but he hoped he had more smarts than that.

  “So, were you nominated the other night? Or working the event?”

  “Nominated?” That suggestion surprised him. At thirty-six he was definitely past the prime of a professional athlete.

  She blushed and the color chased away the hospital pallor of her complexion. “It’s possible,” she said a little defensively. “But even the staff wear tuxes so it’s hard to differentiate sometimes.” She waited for his response.

  He clearly didn’t possess the smarts he thought he had because he stayed rooted to his spot. “No, I wasn’t nominated.”

  She waited, and when he didn’t fill in any blanks, she lifted knowing eyebrows. “The silent type, are you? You’re one of those guys who don’t elaborate. You just answer the question and leave it at that. No extras?”

  She wasn’t the first to call him on it. How many girlfriends had given up on him because of his silence, his refusal to open up? Imagine if any of them had known he’d actually gone months without uttering a word when he was a kid. Having learned to give the facts and only the facts starting at a very young age, he lifted the hand not in a sling and let the gesture say it all.

  She laughed. “Okay. I can play this game.” She pointed her finger in his general direction. He’d seen the same mannerism on television but always thought it was the character she played. She seemed in the mood to grill him. He saw it coming a mile away. He shouldn’t have looked into the room as he’d walked by. It had been an accident, yes, but one that might get him into a ton of trouble. He couldn’t afford to get made by Julie Fraser.