Conceal, Protect

by Carol Ericson

  “They did pull over.” She expelled the breath with her words.

  “The cop could make out a figure approaching through the snow flurries and called out. He expected the person to follow him to the accident, but as the officer reached us, he heard an engine and the car took off.”

  Noelle shivered and pulled the hospital sheet up to her chin. “The person who bumped us was coming to see his handiwork and then took off when he saw the patrol car.”

  “Seems like it.

  “It could still mean the driver had been drinking and wanted to see how we were but didn’t want the cop to find him out.”

  “Maybe.” J.D. wandered back to the window and wedged his shoulder on the wall next to it.

  “You don’t believe that, do you? What’s your take?”

  “It’s like you said before. The driver ran us off the road and was coming back to see his handiwork.”

  “And then what?” Her fingertips traced the bump forming above her temple. “You said you didn’t think he wanted to kill us, just incapacitate us. So why did he come back?”

  “To take you.”

  Noelle gasped. J.D.’s words were like a punch to the gut.

  He reached her bed in two strides, straightened the upended chair and straddled it. “I’m sorry to scare you, Noelle, but that’s what I think. This person doesn’t want to kill you. He wants something from you.”

  “He wants to kidnap me?” She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Why are you so sure about this, J.D.?”

  He reached back and squeezed his neck, tilting back his head and closing his eyes. “All signs point to it. He could’ve killed you if he wanted. That’s not what he wants.”

  “Well, I don’t know what he wants. Maybe he should just ask me.”

  “Are you sure you don’t know? Nothing else unusual has occurred recently?”

  Noelle bit her lip as Abby’s disappearance flitted across her mind again. Did this have anything to do with her secretive roommate? “Maybe...”

  “Yes?” J.D. hunched forward in his chair.

  “Maybe this is somehow connected to my roommate in D.C.”

  “It’s late.” The nurse charged into the room with a chart and a tray of bandages. “You need to leave now, sir. Visiting hours are over, and we need to change Noelle’s bandage and check a few vitals. You can come back first thing tomorrow morning.”

  J.D. looked ready to knock the tray from the nurse’s hands. “A few more minutes?”

  “I’m afraid not. In fact, it’s past visiting hours and we need to give this young lady the once-over before she gets some sleep.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow.” Noelle pressed her fingertips against her forehead as another wave of pain and cloudiness suffused her head. The accident jarred through her memory again, and she clutched the side rails of the bed.

  “Are you all right?” J.D. scooted his chair closer and smoothed his thumb across the back of her hand.

  The nurse clicked her tongue. “That’s what I’m talking about. She needs to rest.”

  “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. I’m going to get a hotel room in town.” He leaned over the bed and kissed the edge of her bandage.

  She nodded, already wishing him gone.

  Words. Words came at her from all sides. Abby’s words. Ted’s words. Bruce’s words. J.D.’s words—soothing, comforting.

  Angry.

  * * *

  J.D. POUNDED HIS fist against the wall of his hotel room. “Damn it, Jack. She doesn’t know anything about Zendaris. Before I left her hospital room tonight, she was ready to tell me about Abby. She wouldn’t do that if she had something to hide.”

  “She’s all right now?”

  “She’s fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you call sustaining a concussion fine.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m touched by your concern, boss, but I’ve got bigger issues here. Zendaris just stepped it up tonight. His men went after Noelle with me in the car.”

  “They were going after you, too, J.D., whether or not they realize you’re Prospero. It’s enough that you’re protecting this woman. You’re in the way.”

  “You’re probably right, but that just makes the situation that much more dangerous for Noelle. She deserves to know who’s after her. Who knows? She might be able to give us info about Abby that we don’t know.”

  “You already said Noelle doesn’t know anything—either she does or she doesn’t.”

  J.D. clenched his fist and eyed the wall again, but he passed this time. “She doesn’t consciously know anything. She would’ve brought it up if she did. But unconsciously? Maybe once I tell her the whole story about Abby, it will jog her memory. We should’ve trusted her from the get-go.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “Prospero doesn’t trust anyone from the get-go. Look at what happened with Colonel Scripps. Sometimes we can’t even trust our own.”

  “Prospero’s different under you, Jack. I’d trust any one of you with my life.”

  “Stop trying to kiss my ass. If you’re sure about this woman, then go for it. We haven’t turned up anything suspicious on her after all our digging.”

  “Thank you!” J.D. pumped his fist in the air. “She just might lead us to the missing plans.”

  “Maybe, but once she finds out an international arms dealer without a shred of scruples is after her, she may never let you out of her sight.”

  J.D. dropped onto the bed. That prospect didn’t sound half-bad. “You don’t know this woman, Jack. She doesn’t back down.”

  “It’s your job to make sure she does. We don’t need to leave a trail of dead civilians on our quest to nail Zendaris.”

  “That’s not going to happen. I’ll protect Noelle with my life.”

  J.D. could hear Coburn sigh over the line.

  “I—I mean, I’d protect any civilian against Zendaris with my life.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know that. Watch your back. Zendaris’s guys have the advantage.”

  “They do?”

  “They have their sights trained on you...and you don’t have a clue what they even look like.”

  J.D. tossed the phone onto the nightstand and stretched out on the bed, his boots hanging off the edge. He couldn’t wait to come clean to Noelle tomorrow morning. They’d work this together, and knowing the source of the threats against her would keep her safer.

  He could finally tell her his true identity. Would she like J.D. the spy better than she liked J.D. the ranch hand? Would she trust that J.D. more? Let him get closer?

  He’d have his answer soon enough.

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, J.D. left his hotel for a brisk walk to the hospital a block away. He’d already arranged to have a rental car delivered to the hospital. Between that guardrail and the boulder, his truck was totaled.

  He stopped along the way for a couple of lattes and a blueberry scone in case Noelle couldn’t stomach the hospital breakfast.

  Riding up the elevator to the fourth floor, he whistled a tuneless series of notes. He waved to the nurses at the front station and headed down the antiseptic-smelling corridor to Noelle’s room, his boots scuffing against the shiny linoleum.

  The door stood open, and he poked his head around the corner, into the room. The doctor had a penlight out, shining it in Noelle’s eyes.

  J.D.’s heart skipped a beat or two. “Everything okay, Doctor?”

  The doctor turned and flashed the beam of light onto an X-ray. “Sharing the good news with Noelle. She definitely had a concussion, but the CAT scan doesn’t show any cracks to the skull. She’s free to go today.”

  “That’s great.” J.D. shifted his gaze to Noelle’s face, where the good news hadn’t registered. He held up the coffees, the bag of goodies clutched in his right hand. “I brought you a latte and scone from the coffeehouse down the street.”

  “Thanks.” Her lips barely moved as she eked out the word.

  J.D
. raised his brows. “Did you have a good night’s sleep? Is your head still bothering you?”

  “Ibuprofen dulls the pain, and as long as I didn’t crack my skull, I’m thrilled.”

  She didn’t look thrilled—not at all. “Any instructions before I take her home, Doc?”

  “The nurse will review some instructions with you.” The doctor slid the X-ray films from the light board. “Do you two live together?”

  “No.” Noelle practically shouted the denial. “He stays in the guesthouse.”

  The way she said guesthouse, it might’ve been doghouse. The pain must be getting to her, or she wasn’t herself yet. The nurse would probably explain more.

  The doctor’s eyebrows shot up to his nonexistent hairline. “Your friend is going to have to keep an eye on you today—just today. You should be fine, but keep taking the ibuprofen for the pain as well as the swelling.”

  The doctor left the room with a wave of Noelle’s file.

  J.D. sat in the chair by the bed, placing the coffees on the bedside table. “Did you have breakfast already?”

  Her eyes, more violet than ever, bored into him, and he flinched from the intensity. Had the concussion messed with her mind?

  He wrapped his fingers around one of the coffee cups and presented it to her while taking a sip from his own.

  Her hand shot out and cinched his wrist so hard he almost dropped the latte.

  “Who the hell is Zendaris?”

  Chapter Eleven

  J.D.—or whoever he was—choked on his coffee. Good. He deserved much worse for lying to her, keeping things from her, trying to control her. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

  “Well?” She whipped the sheet off and swung her legs over the side of the hospital bed, planting her feet on the floor. “Who is Zendaris?”

  He placed his coffee cup on the table next to hers and brushed his hands together. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “From your own lips.” Those lips that had felt so warm and inviting against her own. Those lying lips.

  He tilted his head, and a lock of tawny hair fell across his forehead. Even liars could look sexy.

  “When did I mention Zendaris?”

  “Right after the crash last night. You must’ve thought I was unconscious, but I wasn’t—not yet. I heard you blame Zendaris for the accident.”

  She’d also remembered his vow to kill Zendaris if anything happened to her. But that didn’t erase his deception. Who the hell was he, anyway? Why had he finagled his way into her life? Into her heart? And why had she let him?

  That almost cut deeper. He’d been playing up to her, coming on to her, making her believe they had some emotional connection. And all this time he’d been leading her on for some nefarious reason—because he had nefarious written all over his handsome face.

  He blew out a breath on a whistle. “You heard that, huh?”

  “I heard it but didn’t remember until last night after you’d left. I thought I may have imagined it since the voices in my head were coming fast and furious, but everything I heard had actually happened. I wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. Besides, why would I come up with a name like Zendaris?”

  “Not a very likely name to dream up out of thin air, I agree.”

  “Stop stalling.” She stamped her foot on the cold linoleum. “Who is he, and why would he be after me? And more to the point, who are you?”

  “My name is J.D.” He spread his hands in supplication. “That’s not a lie.”

  But everything else was? Including those intimate looks, the kisses, those soothing touches?

  She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He ducked, deflecting it with his hands, and it hit the bedside table. One foamy latte keeled over.

  Picking up the cup, he said, “Whoa. I’m going to tell you everything. In fact—” he licked his fingers “—I was going to tell you everything this morning, even though I’m sure you don’t believe me now.”

  “You’re right.”

  The nurse bustled into the room. “I brought your release forms. Is this strong guy gonna take care of you?”

  The idea of J.D. caring for her would’ve turned her insides to sweet marshmallow twelve hours ago. Now it made tears prick the backs of her eyes.

  Noelle hunched over the clipboard and scribbled her signature while J.D. answered.

  “I sure am. What does she need?”

  The nurse rattled off a list of instructions, and J.D. peppered her with questions.

  Noelle ground her teeth and hardened her heart. You don’t have to pretend anymore.

  Noelle handed the clipboard back to the nurse with her signature on several forms. “I can leave now?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She shook her finger in Noelle’s face. “You do exactly what this man tells you to do and you’ll recover nicely.”

  “Exactly.”

  J.D.’s grin had the knuckles of her fist itching to punch him in the gut.

  She clenched her jaw instead. “I’m going to get dressed now. Leave.”

  “I’m expecting the rental-car company to deliver a car to the hospital for me. My truck was totaled. I’ll go down and see about that and pick you up outside the main doors of the hospital. Then we’ll talk.”

  “Whatever.” She had to get home somehow, and she still had to grill him about Zendaris...and his own identity.

  When J.D. and the nurse left the room, Noelle nibbled on the scone and sipped the remaining latte while she got dressed. Applying some lip balm, she inspected herself in the mirror. The crash had given her both a cut and a bump above her right temple. Those wounds were nothing compared to the one J.D. had inflicted on her heart with his deception.

  The orderly insisted on wheeling her out of the hospital in a wheelchair, so she sat back and closed her eyes. Maybe this all had a silver lining. If that lying hunk of...hunk knew who was after her, she had a fighting chance.

  Maybe not for the relationship she’d been foolishly imagining with J.D., but a chance to confront her stalker head-on. She touched her bandage—maybe not head-on either.

  The orderly waited with her on the sidewalk in front of the hospital until J.D. drove up in a rental, a silver SUV.

  He and the orderly each took one of her arms and walked her to the passenger side of the vehicle. J.D. helped her up and into the seat, and they both thanked the orderly.

  As soon as J.D. hit the driver’s seat, Noelle snapped, “Tell me.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we get back to the ranch? You might need to be more comfortable than you are now to hear this story.”

  Her stomach rolled, and she pinned her folded hands between her knees. “Just tell me.”

  He reached into the backseat and tossed her hat into her lap. “I saved this from the wreckage, along with your bag with your laptop in it.”

  “Thanks. Now talk.”

  He adjusted the mirrors and glanced at her. “Nico Zendaris is an international arms dealer.”

  Her jaw dropped, and she turned to stare at his profile. “You’re kidding.”

  “Would I lie about something like that? Wait, don’t answer that.”

  “He’s an arms dealer? Why would an arms dealer be after me? That’s insane. I don’t believe you.”

  “You had a roommate in D.C., Abby Warren.”

  “How do you know about Abby?” A chill crept across her flesh.

  “Not from you. Every time I’d ask you a leading question about unusual occurrences lately, you never brought up Abby—not until yesterday. Isn’t the sudden disappearance of a roommate unusual? Or does that happen to you all the time?”

  She ground her teeth together. “If you knew about Abby, why didn’t you just ask me? In fact, why all the lies and deceit?”

  “I’ll get to my lies and deceit in a minute. Do you want to hear about Abby’s lies and deceit first and her connection to Zendaris?”

  “Abby has a connection to an international arms dealer?”

 
“Had. Abby Warren is dead.”

  Noelle covered her face with her hands. “This is crazy. How? Who? This is too much.”

  “One thing at a time. Abby’s twin sister, Beth, worked for Prospero, an undercover intelligence agency. Through her twin, Abby met a few people, learned a few things and developed a lunatic crush on one of the agents.”

  She jerked her head up. “You?”

  “Not me—my buddy, Cade Stark. Abby was also a computer whiz, but maybe you knew that already.”

  Cade Stark. Noelle drew her brows together. That name sounded familiar for some reason. “I knew she worked as a private IT consultant. She went after hackers mostly.”

  “Takes one to know one. She hacked into Stark’s computer and nabbed some plans that he had just stolen from Zendaris. To make a long story short, she contacted Zendaris in the end to let him know she had the plans.”

  “Did he kill her?” Noelle’s eye twitched.

  “No.”

  “Did you kill her?” She wanted to know what kind of man she was dealing with—what kind of man she’d been falling for.

  “No.” He shot her a quick look.

  “Where are the plans now?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it, darlin’?”

  Widening her eyes, she jabbed a thumb against her chest. “Me? This Zendaris thinks I have the plans?”

  “Either that or he thinks you know something.”

  “And so did you.”

  “What?” It was J.D.’s turn for the look of openmouthed surprise.

  “That’s why you kept me in the dark all this time. You thought I was in cahoots with Abby or something. You thought I had the plans—maybe you still do.”

  “You’re quick but not completely accurate.” His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. “I never believed for one minute you had anything to do with Abby’s crazy scheme, not after I’d met you.”

  “Someone did.”

  He nodded, a quick dip of chin to chest. “Someone whose job it is to be suspicious, but I convinced him otherwise. I told you the truth when I said I was ready to spill everything this morning.”

  She wedged her boots against the floor of the car. How could she trust him when she didn’t even know who he was?