The Colonel's Daughter

by Amy Andrews

  Ivy held her breath as his gaze scanned her face and ran over her body as if trying to inventory any injury. It wasn’t anything sexual but her body bloomed to life regardless. For the first time since they’d met he was actually looking at her.

  And it was every bit as devastating as she’d imagined.

  “I’m fine,” she dismissed, breathing again, her heart pumping now for an entirely different reason. “Will he be okay?”

  His lips tightened. “He’ll live.”

  Ivy dragged her gaze off the taut press of his lips. Now was not the time to wonder if she could make them melt apart with her tongue. “Well, thank you,” she said. “You really didn’t need to. I know a thing or two about protecting myself, but I appreciate the chivalry.”

  He laughed, then, and Ivy almost fell over in shock. She’d never heard him laugh. Hell, she’d barely seen him smile. He really should do it more often. The tight, serious angles disappeared. His face softened, his eyes glowed, the bow of his upper lip became evident.

  In an instant he’d gone from untouchable to seriously freaking touchable.

  “I’ve never been accused of chivalry before,” he said, amusement tinging his accent.

  “Oh? You don’t go round rescuing damsels in distress every day?”

  He smiled. He actually smiled. At her. “Thanks to this job I’m a creature of the night.”

  Ivy’s brain temporarily short-circuited as he stepped in closer to her. “I’ll get rid of these,” he said, leaning down and picking up the bags at either side of her legs.

  “No,” Ivy said, grabbing the bags off him as her brain powered up again. “You’ve done enough for me tonight. I’m not going to let you do my job as well.”

  He surrendered them without a fight, pushing on the bar of the exit door, opening it for her. “See,” she said glancing at the play of muscles in his tanned forearm as she passed by him. “Chivalry.”

  His low chuckle followed Ivy out into the warm night. Although given how much she was high-beaming right now it might as well have been winter.

  Unsavoury odors stewed in ripe abundance as she walked the short distance down the alley to the dumpster and disposed of the garbage. Not that she noticed. She was too busy thinking about Dean’s smile. The way he’d laughed. And looked at her. His crazy-sexy self-deprecation.

  Voices from the street end of the alley finally snagged her attention and she glanced toward them. It took her a few seconds to compute what was happening. A man on his knees. Another man standing with a gun pointed at kneeling dude’s head.

  By the time Ivy had put all the pieces together the trigger had been pulled and the man on his knees pitched forward. She gasped, too shocked by the brutality to stop herself.

  Vaguely she was aware of a noise from behind her, a door banging as the guy with the gun turned and saw her. Ivy’s eyes widened and she gasped again.

  She knew him.

  And she could tell from his demeanor that he knew her as well.

  He raised his gun and pointed it at her and Ivy was momentarily too stunned to even move. It wasn’t until she heard the shot that the messages from her brain finally got through to her muscles.

  Move!

  Hot, searing pain blew her shoulder backward as a hand from behind grabbed her and pulled her down hard on the uneven surface. Her hip landed with a jolt and she cried out as her face crashed into a solid wall of warmth. A spicy-sweet aroma overrode the stink of the alley as she was dragged backward.

  Then everything blurred.

  Chapter Two

  Molten steel hardened in Seth’s veins as he hauled an unresisting Ivy inside and kicked the door shut after him. His heart fired like gunshots in his chest. “Ivy,” he called as he propped her against the wall of the corridor.

  She was gasping, nearly hyperventilating. Dazed—disconnected—like a rag doll with the stuffing removed.

  It was hard to believe they’d been having an ordinary, everyday conversation a minute ago, her voice husky from yelling all night, and now she could barely speak as she stared at him in obvious shock. Her skin had turned several shades paler as blood poured down her arm.

  Fuck.

  “Ivy!” He yelled it this time as he used the bullet hole in the sleeve of her work-issue T-shirt for purchase, yanking it until it ripped right out. She didn’t even flinch.

  Merry burst into the corridor. “What the hell? Oh God—Ivy!”

  “She’ll be fine,” Seth snapped, not bothering to look at the redhead as he used the ruined sleeve to wipe at the blood. “Call the cops and an ambulance. Tell Gaz someone’s been shot in the alley. The gunman fled but tell him to be careful. And find me the first-aid kit.”

  “What? But—”

  “Now, Merry!”

  Seth had too much on his mind as he scrambled to prioritize his next steps to be polite.

  It certainly had a galvanizing effect on Merry.

  Relief flooded his system as the bullet appeared to have only grazed Ivy’s upper arm close to her shoulder. “Good news,” he said, keeping the makeshift pad pressed against the freely bleeding wound. The stark pallor of her face was brutally marred by a fine spatter of drying blood up her neck and across her jaw.

  Fuck.

  “It’s just superficial. Those tend to bleed a lot, though. It looks worse than it is.”

  She didn’t appear to hear him as she snatched breath after breath, her chest heaving.

  “Ivy.” He dragged his gaze off her arm. “Focus on me.” He pointed to his eyes. “You need to slow your breathing down.”

  She didn’t answer, just stared at him with a dull, vacant sheen in her wide green eyes. “Ivy!” He put the crack back into his voice.

  It worked, she blinked and then focused on him. “Did you hear me?” he asked. “Your shoulder’s going to be fine, but you’re hyperventilating. You need to slow your breathing down. Come on. In and hold for three,” he said, demonstrating. “Then out for three.”

  She shook her head at him. “He’s d…dead, isn’t he?” she gasped. “He’s…dead.”

  The lack of color in her lips added to the distress on her face and pushed past all Seth’s boundaries. She was sitting here after being shot and all she was thinking about was the dead stranger in the alley.

  She was one helluva woman.

  “I don’t know,” he lied. He knew damn well from what he’d seen in those split seconds the guy hadn’t stood a chance. “Now breathe with me.”

  She shook her head pushing against his chest with her hand. “You have to…go and check…have to see if…he’s still alive,” she demanded.

  “Gaz has gone. The ambulance and police are on their way.”

  “But we’re closer,” she wailed. “He could…still be alive.” She tried to sit forward, then cried out in pain, fast tears coming to her eyes as she grabbed her shoulder, her hand landing on top of his.

  “Stay still, Ivy,” he demanded, his voice rough as he eased her back gently against the wall. “It might only be superficial but it’s going to hurt like a bastard for a while. Now for God’s sake breathe.”

  By the time Merry arrived with the first-aid kit Ivy’s breathing was returning to normal. “Pass me a couple of bandages,” he said to Merry, reluctant to let go of the wound without something decent to cover it. The ambulance would dress it properly once they got here, he just needed to stop the bleeding and get it covered.

  “There’s only one,” Merry said. A wrapper crinkled as it was passed into his hand. He smiled at Ivy. “I’m just going to take my hand away, then bandage your arm, okay?”

  She nodded at him. “Okay.”

  “You’re doing well.” He smiled as he removed his hand. “Really well.”

  The wound was difficult to assess without being properly cleaned, but it seemed to be only lightly oozing now. “I’m going to get Merry to hold out your arm while I wrap it, okay? It’ll probably hurt.”

  Ivy pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Okay.”
<
br />   Her muffled cry as Merry gently lifted Ivy’s arm sliced right through him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Just do it,” she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut.

  He smiled slightly as he bandaged it firmly and efficiently. She opened her eyes as he was securing it in place, rolling her head to the side to look at Merry. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  Merry glanced at him first and he nodded. “Yes,” she said.

  She shut her eyes again and Merry sent him a worried look, but the distant sound of sirens wailing shifted Seth’s focus again. “Can you wait for the paramedics and let them know we’ll come out to them?” A superficial injury was going to be way down on their list of initial priorities.

  They’d check on alley-guy first.

  She nodded. “You want me to come back and give me a hand with her?”

  “Nah.” He shook his head. “I’ll manage.” Then he smiled at her because he’d been a bit of an asshole and she’d kept a cool head in a situation that had to be foreign and frightening. “Thanks,” he added.

  Seth turned back to face Ivy, pleased to see some color seeping back into her lips. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Okay…I guess. It’s…surreal more than anything.”

  He nodded. For someone unaccustomed to such violence he had no doubt it would be. “Is it sore?”

  “A little.”

  “Are you injured anywhere else?”

  She frowned as if mentally cataloging her aches and pains. “My left hip.”

  Seth grimaced. “Yeah, sorry ’bout that, I yanked you down pretty hard.” He moved from his kneeling positon into a squat. “Let’s get you some medical attention.”

  “I know him,” she said, ignoring his suggestion, her green eyes looking at him with a fierce directness. “The guy who…pulled the trigger.”

  “Yeah.” Seth sighed as he kneeled again, the sirens getting louder. So did he.

  “You saw him too?”

  “Yeah, I saw him just as he aimed at you.”

  “It was Kade.”

  “Yes.”

  Kade Harrison was the brother of Liam Harrison, who owned the Cross Bar. Or half owned, anyway. Kade was a silent partner in the other half, and used it as a front to launder his drug money. Seth had known that going in. The Colonel had asked for an investigation into his daughter’s place of employment and Seth had supplied it.

  What he hadn’t known until he started working there was that Liam was pretty much clueless to his brother’s shady dealings. All Liam cared about was using his owner cred to get laid.

  Kade was here more often than Liam. Something that hadn’t really helped Seth’s itch.

  “He knew me, too.”

  “It’s not exactly well-lit out there and everything happened pretty fast, are you sure?”

  “Yes. He recognized me. I could tell.” Her brow crinkled in concentration then she looked at him. “He looked like he’d done that before.”

  “Yep.”

  The cacophony of sirens outside cut out. “They’re here,” he said, rising to a squat again, scooping an arm under her thighs, the other around her back.

  Her frown deepened. “I don’t need you to carry me,” she said as she wriggled out of his hold. “There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”

  Seth raised an eyebrow at her irritable statement. “You’ll probably be dizzy when you stand up.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I understand I freaked out a little just before and I apologize, but that’s not really me. I’m not the dizzy type.”

  Seth bit back a laugh. It was good to see her fight emerging. “You were in shock. Still are, probably. Shock doesn’t discriminate and I don’t think dizzy has anything to do with types.”

  “Just give me a help up,” she dismissed, holding out her good hand.

  Seth shrugged as he stood. If she wanted to prove some point, far be it from him to stop her. It hurt, though. He could see it etched in the lines on her forehead as she used his hand to pull herself to a standing positon.

  She grabbed her sore arm with her good one as soon as she was upright, splinting it against her body, swaying precariously as she did so.

  “Whoa there,” he said, catching her around the waist.

  Big mistake. She shut her eyes and leaned into him heavily, her forehead pressed into a pec. He’d spent weeks avoiding any kind of touching and now he knew why. Her silky hair brushing his neck, her breath leaving a heated imprint even through his T-shirt, the curve of her waist leaving a heated imprint on his hand. She smelled sweet like a Piña Colada, and she sighed softly as she held on to him.

  She fit, damn it.

  “Don’t you dare say I told you so,” she mumbled into his chest a few moments later.

  Seth grinned. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

  “Okay,” she said, pushing away. “I’m good now.”

  But it was too late for that. Two cops in navy blue, weapons drawn, stepped into the corridor. “Don’t move,” they yelled. “Stay right where you are.”

  Ivy grabbed for him again as Seth held up both hands.

  …

  Three hours later, Ivy stepped into the shower of the hotel room that was to be her home for the next couple days, her head spinning at the lightning speed of events. Police and more police asking questions, and then more senior police at the hospital asking the same questions. Being escorted to her apartment and told to pack her bag for a few days. Repeating the process for Dean. Then being whisked away to this non-descript outer suburbs Sydney motor inn.

  The police wanted her and Dean under protection while Kade Harrison was still at large. Apparently he was a reasonably small player on the Sydney drug scene and the police were confident they’d find him quickly, but they weren’t taking any chances.

  No argument from her. She’d left Canberra for adventure and excitement, but not this kind.

  Being shot at once was one time too many.

  She had a newfound respect for her father who’d spent decades being shot at in the name of his country.

  Ivy shut her eyes, leaning her forehead against the tiles as she gave in to her exhaustion and the tug of painkillers. Hot water cascaded down her back and she angled her hip under the spray, hoping it would ease the ache. The purple bruise went from her hip to thigh.

  No wonder she was sore.

  At least nothing was broken. Her hip, chest, and right arm had been x-rayed at the hospital and given the all clear. Then they’d steri-stripped her wound and slapped on a waterproof dressing. Ivy looked down at it now as the shower spray spattered it—definitely waterproof.

  “Ivy?”

  She startled at the voice, pulling her head off the tiles. Even through exhaustion and a closed door it was incredibly sexy.

  “Are you okay in there?”

  Ivy smiled as her heart beat a crazy tattoo in her chest. She wondered what he’d say or do if she said she wasn’t? He’d been incredibly good with her throughout this whole ordeal—kind, gentle, reassuring. Hadn’t left her side. Telling her everything was going to be okay. So different from the strong, silent guy she’d known till this point. He’d been almost tender with her tonight.

  “Ivy?”

  “I’m fine,” she called, backing away from the romantic bullshit. The man probably just wanted a shower. Although he’d cleaned up a little at the hospital, her blood had soaked into his shirt. “I’ll be out in ten.”

  And she ducked her head under the spray.

  …

  Seth tapped the contact on the screen of his mobile and placed it against his good ear while he waited for the call to connect.

  “Rodrigo?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Seth paused a beat or two to collect himself. “No, sir, there’s been a…situation with Ivy.”

  He relayed the news in as few words as possible aware that Ivy could come out at any moment and while he had the phone to his good ear and the tinnitus continued unabated i
n the other, he’d be unable to hear the shower cutting out.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” he swore in Seth’s ear. “I put her in your care and someone takes a shot at her?”

  “It’s completely unrelated to the threat against you, sir. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I’m paying you to not let her be in the wrong place, damn it.”

  Seth had refused payment for the assignment. He owed the Colonel—it was as simple as that. But the Colonel had insisted threatening to take his services elsewhere. And Seth couldn’t let him do that. Not when he owed him.

  Rock, meet hard place.

  “No, sir, you’re paying me to look out for her while she’s at work.”

  “And she was at work,” he snapped.

  That one smacked him right between the eyes. He hated that he hadn’t been able to protect Ivy from what had happened tonight, no matter how unforeseeable it was. “It was a freak set of circumstances.”

  “Yes…well…what’s happening now?”

  “We’re in a hotel room under police protection.” He’d been relieved when Ivy had asked if they could stay together. He would have insisted if she hadn’t.

  “Without access to my gun or other equipment, it’s probably the safest she can be. Them on the outside, me on the inside…it’s the best of both worlds.”

  Which didn’t stop Seth from wanting his gun pretty frickin’ bad.

  “Unless he has a cop or two in his pocket,” the Colonel said ominously.

  Seth shook his head. “They think he’s pretty small-fry, sir, and everything I’ve been able to dig up on him confirms it.”

  There was a long pause. “I can’t let anything else happen to her, Rodrigo, you understand?”

  “It won’t, sir. You have my word.” Seth didn’t know what had happened to Ivy in the past to make the Colonel so damn protective but he figured it had to be some serious shit.

  “Then that’s good enough for me.”

  “Sir…” Seth wasn’t sure how to broach the next bit but he felt it important to at least try. “I think it might be a good idea to let her know.”