A terrible anguish tore her heart.
She did not need to hear the muffled pop to know hed been shot.
She saw it in the widening of his eyes, in the stiffening of his shoulders, in the jerk of his big body an instant before the bright blood blossomed across the front of his white dress uniform.
Hed been shot. For her. Taken a bullet meant for her.
The room erupted. Women screamed. Chairs crashed and glasses shattered as guests jumped to their feet or dived for cover. Another agent slammed Samantha to the floor, knocking the wind from her lungs. The nine-piece jazz band wailed and stuttered to silence.
No! She fought to rise, struggled to see.
The agents hard weight pressed her to the cold marble floor. His jacket smelled of fear and dry-cleaning fluid. Maam, please.
She shoved at his shoulder. Marcus!
Its all right, maam, the agent said breathlessly in her ear. We got him.
Marcus?
The shooter.
If you dont get off me, Samantha said through clenched teeth, I will shoot you.
It was possibly the most undiplomatic statement shed made in her life. She didnt care. Panic pressed on her lungs, heavier and more unyielding than her bodyguard. She had to get to Marcus. Had to seeHad to knowHad to tell him
The agents weight eased. She struggled out from under him. Ignoring the hands that reached out to help her, she scrambled up and across the floor toward the huddle around Marcus. Pushing past the black jackets, she fell to her knees. A woman in a silver gowna doctor, apparentlyrapped out orders in German while she pressed a napkin to Marcuss chest.
The napkin was scarlet with his blood.
Marcus? Samantha whispered.
His eyes opened, his blue, blue eyes. They met hers, and his mouth crooked in a smile.
Faster than a speeding bullet, he said weakly.
And then he was gone.
A silent cry of anguish swelled inside Samantha, too horrible to voice, too huge to contain.
She had never told him. And the things she had not said burned in her throat like tears and raged in her chest like fire.
An assemblyman touched her arm. I am sorry, madam. Perhaps
She jerked her elbow from his grasp. Hes not dead, she said fiercely.
The agent who had followed her cleared his throat. Maam, he took a .22 caliber bullet fired at close range through the upper right quadrant of the chest. Even if it missed his heart, thats not good.
The doctor in the silver gown continued to apply pressure to the exit wound in Marcuss chest. Her hands were slippery. Her dress was stained. One of the waiters had brought her some kind of plastic bag, which she slapped over the sucking hole of Marcuss chest.
Hope tore fresh wounds in Samanthas soul. He was still bleeding. He was still breathing. He was still alive.
She stood. Philip!
Her secretary was at her shoulder, his neat brown hair disordered and his face white.
I want doctors. I want surgeons. Get me the 86th at Ramstein. We need aeromedical evacuation to the naval hospital in Naples as soon as it can be arranged.
Hes strong, Jake Ingram offered from his post by the waiting room door. Hell pull through. Hell, any other man would be dead by now.
Samantha knew Jake meant well. But his words made her shiver in the climate-controlled room.
Any other man
Stan had died like this. Died at the hospital while she paced cold linoleum halls that smelled of steel and sweat, of pain and disinfectant. Died while she sat upright on a rigid chair in a brightly lit room with her hands in her lap and her heart like a stone in her chest. Died while she waited.
She had been waiting, this time, more than thirty-six hours. Long enough to find Jake Ingram at his future father-in-laws ranch in Texas, to field an anxious phone call from Marcuss adoptive parents in Maryland, to fend off a visit from his nearly hysterical sister Honey.
Theres nothing to be done. Samantha mentally repeated what the doctors had told her. Once the surgery was over, there was nothing to do but wait.
And pray.
The Evanses were still making arrangements to fly out. Jake had beaten them, using his connections to wangle a seat on an air force jet.
Can I get you some coffee? he asked.
Her stomach lurched. She pressed her lips together. No, thanks.
That surgeonWilsonsaid theyd repaired the lung.
She didnt want to talk about the surgery. She didnt want to talk at all. Her composure was eggshell thin. Too much conversation would crack it. But she appreciated his efforts anyway. Thank you for being here, Jake.
He shrugged, and for one poignant moment, she saw Marcus in the gesture. Hes my brother.
Long-lost brother.
Maybe thats why I felt I had to come. I just found him. I dont want to lose him again.
Im sure hell be glad youre here, she said.
If he ever wakes up, she thought, fear like an acid burning her stomach and the back of her throat. Please, God, let him wake up.
To tell the truth
She waited. Shed known Jake Ingram for years. He was friends with Matt and Ethan. Hed done business with her husband.
It was kind of a relief to get away, he admitted at last.
The pressures of the investigation? she asked sympathetically.
No. More like pressure from my fiance.
Tara?
She wants to set a wedding date.
Samantha arched her eyebrows. Well, is that so surprising?
No. We should get married. I want to get married. I just He thrust his fingers through his dark hair. I didnt even tell her where I was going, he confessed. I couldnt. I havent told her yet whowhatI am.
Dismayed, Samantha stared at him. You need to tell her.
Eventually.
Now.
Samantha, things are complicated enough without my burdening Tara with this. My plane barely touched down here when I got a phone call about some trouble in Chicago. As soon as MarkMarcuscomes around, Ive got to fly back. Any big confession will have to wait.
Are you sure it can wait? What if something happened what if you were shot, bleeding, dying, dead and you never told her until it was too late? Maybe sharing the truth would drive you apart. But not sharing the truth divides you now. And now may be all the time the two of you have.
Her voice trembled. So did her chin. Damn. And shed been doing so well.
Jake moved toward her. Samantha
Ambassador Barnes? A tall, black corpsman stood in the entrance to the waiting room. Weve moved Lieutenant Evans to the unit. Would you like to see him for a few minutes?
Hope speared her. Is he awake?
No, maam. And then, obviously taking pity on her, he added, But his vitals are real good. To be honest with you, the doctors are amazed.
She got up to follow the corpsmen and then thought of Jake.
She looked back over her shoulder. Youre his brother. Do you want to
Long-lost brother, he interrupted gently. Youre the one hes going to want to see when he opens his eyes.
When was a nice word. A much nicer word than if. She clung to it on the short walk to intensive care, using it like a talisman to hold the smells and the fears at bay. The corpsman talked to her quietly along the way, trying to prepare her for the sight of Marcus.
But no charm in the world, no murmured reassurances, could stop her heart from breaking when she finally saw him.
Despite his incredible strength and his extraordinary beginnings, she had always perceived Marcus as fully and completely human. He hardly looked human now. He was totally hooked up to machines, machines that pumped and monitored, blinked and bleeped. His big, vital body looked gaunt and still. Some kind of tube stuck out from his powerful chest. Thinner tubes ran from his arm and under his nose. His firm, tanned cheeks were slack and gray, his mouth drawn tight as a scar with pain, his eye sockets bruised and hollow.
Her mouth dried with fear and pity.
I can give you five minutes, the corpsman said, and rattled the striped curtain closed behind her.
Five minutes. She wanted a lifetime.
She took Marcuss hand, careful to avoid the tubes and cords that connected him to his high-tech life-support systems. His skin was cool. His grip was unresponsive. Tears stung her eyes. She ignored them.
There were no chairs in the tiny curtained cubicle, so she leaned over the metal side of the bed and pressed her cheek to his forehead.
Five minutes.
If this was all she had, if this was all they would ever have, then by God she would make the most of it. She turned her head slightly, so that her lips brushed his ear. Hot tears streaked her face and slid into his hair.
But her voice was steady as she whispered, Listen, sailor. I love you. And Im pregnant. So you have to come back to me now, because if you think Im raising Superbaby by myself, you really are crazy.
She waited. The machines bleeped. The blinking monitors blurred. This was it, then. This really was all they had.
Samantha drew a shaky breath and straightened to ease the ache in her back. There wasnt a thing she could do about the pain in her heart.
But when she lifted her head, Marcus had opened his eyes.
You told me you were on the pill, Marcus said three days later. His voice was still raspy from a combination of narcotics and the breathing tube, but he sounded wonderful to Samantha. And not particularly upset.
I told you I couldnt get pregnant, Samantha corrected him. She lifted the silver cover from his plate of scrambled eggs. Three days in the hospitaland yesterdays visit from his adoptive parentshad gone a long way toward restoring his health. And his appetite. Samantha heard they were taking bets in the nurses lounge on how much he would eat and how quickly he would be discharged.
And I couldnt, before. She smiled at him. I think it was your supersperm that did the trick.
Marcus scowled and slathered jelly on a piece of toast. We have to get married.
Her heart beat faster. Do we?
Yeah, of course we do. Youre not planning on giving this kid up for adoption.
No, she agreed quietly. Im not planning to do that.
So we get married. He shrugged. Simple.
Its not simple at all.
If youre worried about my job, Ive already talked with Commander Woods. Since I was technically guarding you, I wont be charged with an unauthorized absence for the time we were in Virginia. So my record is clean, and Im fit for duty.
As soon as you get out of the hospital.
He grinned at her, making her insides go all warm and mushy. Yeah. He shoveled in eggs.
Im happy for you, she said sincerely. I know how much it means to you to continue with the Teams. But
He waved his fork at her. And its not like Ill have to be away when the baby is born, either. Now that Delmonico isnt a Rebelian ally, they need to beef up their own forces. My squad can be deployed here to conduct military training, and I can keep an eye on you.
She wanted to be more to him than a job or an obligation. She bit into his leftover toast. You dont need to keep an eye on me. Baxter is in custody now.
But hes admitted he was working for the Coalition. Theres still a chance you could be a target.
She licked jelly from her fingers. Are you trying to frighten me into saying yes?
He put down his napkin. If thats what it takes. That bastard actually boasted He broke off.
What?
Marcus shook his head. Swore. Theres a chance that the accident that killed your husbandTheres a good chance it wasnt an accident. Im sorry.
She sat, stunned. Baxter?
Not Baxter. Not personally. But he claims the Coalition arranged for that truck to pull across the intersection in the path of your husbands car. They wanted to kill the treaty.
The truth hit her like a stone. So they murdered Stan.
But they didnt count on you. You gave your husband the best revenge and the best memorial he could ask for.
The Delmonico Accord.
The accord is part of it. As long as the treaty exists, the bad guys lose. And as long as you live, so does your husband. You know, in your memories. And in your heart.
Tears, so long suppressed, welled up and sparkled in her eyes. Trust Marcus to put things in the most practical, personal terms.
You got to live, babe, he said. He reached out and covered her hand with his. As long as youre living, you win.
She tried to find her smile. I have a lot to live for.
You bet.
The baby.
Marcus nodded, encouraged that she was looking forward again. And me.
She was silent.
Panic time. He tightened his grip on her hand. The baby and me.
She avoided his gaze. Youre not obliged to marry me because Im pregnant.
He was insulted. Yeah, I am.
Now she looked at him, and that was worse, because her eyes were miserable and determined. I dont want you to marry me because you feel obliged.
Hed thought his chest had taken as hard a hurt as a man could stand. Hed been wrong. You dont want to marry me, he repeated flatly.
She raised her chin. Not if you dont love me.
Immediately he started to feel a whole lot better. Right. Im a moron. And for a brilliant woman, you have some pretty stupid ideas, too.
He pushed the tray table out of the way and swung his bare legs over the side of the hospital bed.
Samanthas eyes narrowed. What are you doing?
Something I should have done three days ago, only I couldnt get out of bed.
You shouldnt get out of bed now. Marcus! She tried to look stern and only succeeded in looking flustered. Do you want me to call a corpsman?
Not unless you want an audience.
Enough get-well bouquets crammed his hospital room to supply an admirals
funeral. He looked them all over carefully and finally selected a rose. A big, red one.
He knelt, which was tough because he still had a tube in his arm attached to a stupid bag on a pole, and tougher because the shorty hospital gown flapped around his bare ass. He took her hand. It trembled, but that was okay, because he was trembling, too.
Okay, let me see if I can get it right this time. Listen up, babe, and Ill use real little words so you understand. I love you. I want you. I want to make a family with you and spend the rest of my life with you. Will you please marry me?
Samanthas eyes were still shiny with tears. But she smiled at him then, the kind of smile that made him light-headed even when he wasnt fighting off blood loss and painkillers.
I love you, too, she said clearly. And Ill marry you and make a family with you and spend the rest of our lives together. Now will you get back in bed?
He grinned at her foolishly and lurched to his feet. If thats an invitation, honey, the answer is yes.
She snorted and drew back the covers for him. I dont care how impressed the doctors are with your rapid recovery, I think youre overestimating your amazing physical powers, Clark.
But she was going to be surprised.
A Verdict of Love
By Jenna Mills
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Family Secrets: Books 5-8 Page 23
