Perilous Seas
Page 14
“It’s okay, Ro.” Quinn was at her side in an instant, his fingers gentle on her cheek as he cajoled her into waking. “You’re okay. I’m sure your shoulder hurts, but you’ll be as good as new in a few weeks. You’re okay.”
Slowly — so slowly Quinn had to stop himself from begging her to wake up — Rowan opened her eyes. The first thing she did when she saw him was smile.
“Good morning.”
His heart leaped to his throat. “Good morning, sweetie.” He choked on the words, causing her to frown.
That’s when she recognized her surroundings and her face fell. She slid her eyes to the glass door at the front of the room and then immediately shifted to look at the hospital gown she was dressed in. “What the ... ?” That’s when she tried to move her shoulder and grimaced in pain. “Ow.”
“It’s okay.” Quinn wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand from the fresh wound. “I know you’re confused. They gave you a lot of drugs to knock you out. It’s okay, though. You’re going to be okay.”
Rowan was officially bewildered ... and she didn’t like it. “What happened?”
Quinn licked his lips. His mouth suddenly felt unbelievably dry. “What do you remember?”
“I remember wearing a bib.”
A smile came to Quinn’s mouth, unbidden. “You wore a bib and ate a huge bucket of seafood. That happened.”
“What happened after?”
“We went to the beach,” he prodded, choosing his words carefully. “We were playing around on the sand and talking.”
Rowan screwed up her face in concentration. “I kind of remember that. I told you I wanted to live at the Stanley Hotel.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I’m going to make sure you get there. I promise you that.”
“We were talking about living in Florida.” Rowan pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead as she struggled to remember. “Then there was a really loud noise and I was drowning.”
“Oh, sweetie, you didn’t drown.” Quinn shifted so he could sit on the bed and stare directly into her eyes. “That’s not what happened. You weren’t in the water.”
“I was drowning in my head. I could hear the blood rushing by.” Rowan was momentarily confused and then her focus sharpened. “I was shot.”
Quinn wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. He wanted to deny that anything ugly had touched her. He couldn’t, though. He’d vowed to tell her the truth. Always. “Yeah.”
“Oh, I remember.” Gently she lifted her hand to her bandaged shoulder. “You were there. You rolled on top of me. I could feel your tears on my face.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “I panicked a bit after the fact.”
“You saved me.”
“No, Ro. We got lucky. I called the police and got an ambulance, but I didn’t save you. I didn’t know we were in trouble until it was already too late.”
“You saved me,” she repeated, struggling to a sitting position so she could look him straight in the eye. “I love you.”
“Oh, geez.” He’d been fighting off tears since the conversation began. He didn’t want to frighten her. Now, he couldn’t stop them from flowing. “I love you, too.” He slipped his arm around her so he could hold her, being careful to avoid her injured shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you. In fact, I’m going to take such good care of you that you’re going to think you’re a queen.”
“That sounds interesting, huh?”
“Most definitely.”
DETECTIVE MORGAN STOPPED BY for a chat not long after. Dr. Carpenter was checking Rowan’s wound when he let himself into the room without an invitation.
“You look much better than last night,” he said with a bright smile.
If looks could kill, Quinn would’ve murdered the man with one harsh glare. “She always looks good,” he growled. “Why are you here?”
Morgan merely deepened his smile. “Because Ms. Gray was the victim of a shooting and I have a few questions to ask her.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not feeling up to your questions.” Quinn found he violently disliked the detective and wanted him nowhere near Rowan. “If you want to talk to her, you can visit her on The Bounding Storm in a few days.”
“I think it’s best to talk to her now,” Morgan countered serenely. “That is unless there’s a medical reason I can’t.” He pointedly turned to the doctor and waited.
Carpenter held back a sigh ... but just barely. It wasn’t difficult to take the temperature of the room. He could read Quinn’s fury and wanted to help the man. He also had no choice but to cooperate. “She’s okay,” he said after a beat, ignoring the way Quinn scowled at him. “You can talk to her. If she gets tired, though, I expect you to give it a rest. Her wound isn’t serious, but she was still shot and we had her on a lot of painkillers last night. She’s still coming off them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Morgan was unusually chipper as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his pen. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?”
Quinn wanted to fight him. He would have, in fact, if Rowan didn’t shoot him a warning look. She was completely together as the detective asked questions. Her memory was coming back in bits and pieces, and when she couldn’t pull a fully-formed memory from her brain, she was honest about it.
“The seconds right after are fuzzy,” she admitted as she plucked at the blanket stretched over her legs. “I knew Quinn was there. I felt him on top of me. I didn’t realize what he was doing, though. I don’t know what I thought, but I was feeling nauseated so I threw up. That’s the thing I remember most.”
“Do you think you got nauseated from the gunshot wound? Perhaps the fear made you sick.”
“That’s a nice thought, but one of the things we were talking about on the beach was how I ate way too much food.” Rowan flashed a nervous smile. “I have a thing about crab legs.”
“I think a lot of people do.” Morgan’s smile was charming as he regarded her. “As for throwing up, don’t feel bad about it. You went through a trauma. If that’s the worst reaction you have, it’s not a big deal.”
“Yeah, well ... I just remember feeling sick. I was confused, although I don’t know why. The doctor says I’m going to be fine.”
“You were in shock,” Quinn replied simply. “It’s okay. It’s not important.”
Rowan wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t believe it was a conversation they needed to share in front of an audience. “I guess.”
“How do you feel now?” Morgan asked.
“A little stiff. My shoulder is a bit achy, but it’s not the end of the world. I’m eager to get out of here and head home.”
“We’re going to release you soon,” Carpenter said, winking at her. “I think your friend is going to have a meltdown if we don’t.” He inclined his head in Quinn’s direction.
“I’m guessing he had a worse night than me,” Rowan offered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay now, though.”
Quinn’s smile was sincere. “You’re okay, so I’m okay. Everything else we can figure out as we move forward.”
Rowan grinned as Morgan shifted on his chair and drew her attention back. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m just trying to ascertain who would do this to you,” he replied. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you?”
Rowan scratched her cheek as she considered the question. She and Quinn hadn’t talked about what she should tell the police regarding the shooting. She felt as if she was treading water with no life preserver in sight. “Oh, well ... not off the top of my head.” She made up her mind on the spot. “It’s not as if I make a habit of picking up enemies. I take photographs on a cruise ship, for crying out loud. That’s not generally a high-risk job.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t ticked someone off along the way.”
“And yet I don’t believe I have.” Rowan looked to Quinn for help. “I don’t know what he wants me to say.”
“Okay. There’s no reason to get persnickety.” Morgan held up his hands. “Take her home. If I have further questions, I’ll track you down on The Bounding Storm.”
“That would be great.”
FRED ARRANGED TO PICK UP Quinn’s motorcycle from the hospital. He also provided a car so Quinn could transport Rowan back to the ship in comfort. Even though he knew it was unlikely that anyone would be ballsy enough to attack them again — especially in the bright light of day — Quinn was hyper-vigilant as he navigated the highways that led back to the familiar dock they called home in their off-time.
“Home sweet home.” Quinn forced a smile as he parked and turned to Rowan in the passenger seat. “How are you feeling?”
For her part, Rowan recognized Quinn was on the edge. The problem was, she had no idea what to do to ease his pain and make him feel better. “Mild discomfort, but otherwise I’m fine. It’s kind of like a muscle ache. I bet I’ll be able to go back to work next week when we set sail. They won’t even have to call in a replacement for me.”
Quinn was having none of that. “Um ... you’re not working next week. I’ve already called Michael and told him what happened. They’re arranging for a temp for the next cruise and you’re going to take it easy.”
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“And I think I’m going to spoil you rotten.” Quinn pocketed the car keys. “Stay there until I come around to collect you.”
Confused, Rowan shifted her eyes to the window. “What do you mean?”
“Stay there,” he repeated.
She watched with interest as he climbed out of the car and circled the vehicle. His eyes were keen as he scoured the edges of the parking lot for movement. Apparently satisfied that no one was lying in wait, he opened the door and reached in for her.
“Come on, Ro.”
To her utter surprise, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up so he could carry her. He used his foot to kick the door shut and then he immediately pointed himself toward the walkway that led to the ship.
“What are you doing?” she asked, flabbergasted.
“I’m taking you home.”
“Yeah, but ... I can walk. I was hit in the shoulder.”
“I prefer carrying you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were shot and this gives me something to do.” He was matter-of-fact. “I know you think I’m being a big baby. No, don’t deny it. It’s written all over your face. I get it. You think I’m smothering you and you’re barely out of the hospital. All I can say is ... it’s going to get worse.”
Despite his serious expression, Rowan couldn’t stop herself from bursting out laughing. “It’s going to get worse?”
He nodded, his lips curving at her amusement. “Completely worse,” he agreed. “I’m going to fawn all over you, serve breakfast in bed, rub your feet ... basically I’m going to treat you like my princess.”
“I thought I was a queen,” she teased.
“I can treat you like a queen, too.” Quinn’s eyes turned serious as they reached the ship and he regarded the two security guards standing there. “Anything?”
“No, sir,” one of them replied, shaking his head. “It’s been quiet.”
“I want it to stay that way.” Quinn was deadly serious. “I want eyes on the parking lot at all times. If anyone shows up, I want to know about it. Don’t let anyone on this ship who doesn’t have the proper credentials.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m going to be with Rowan for a bit but there will be a meeting in a few hours so we can discuss a few things. Spread the word.”
“We’re on it, sir.”
Rowan pressed her lips together as she slid a sidelong look to Quinn. His profile reflected a grim detachment that had her questioning how well she really knew him. “Don’t go crazy,” she said finally, her voice low. “I’m okay. I won’t be if you go crazy.”
“I have no intention of going crazy.”
“Good.” She relaxed against him. “You’re acting a little crazy, though.”
He didn’t want to laugh. This was a serious situation, after all. She’d been shot and needed to take it easy. He couldn’t stop himself, though. “I’ll try to refrain from acting crazy as much as possible.”
“That would be good because I’m not sure both of us can be crazy at the same time. Since I’m the one who was shot, I have dibs on the crazy today.”
“Does that mean, if I put in a request now, I can be the crazy one tomorrow?”
She nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
15
Fifteen
Rowan was the center of attention within minutes of hitting her room.
“I can’t believe you were shot,” Sally announced, pushing past Quinn and stalking into the room, hands on hips. “I also can’t believe I had to hear about it from a random security guy. Why didn’t you call?”
Guilt, hot and fierce, crawled over Quinn’s skin. “I wasn’t really thinking,” he said after a beat, holding out his hands in an apologetic manner. “I called Michael to tell him, but I didn’t think about anyone else. That’s on me. Don’t blame her.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of blame to go around.” Sally absently patted his chest and blew past him so she could climb on the bed next to Rowan. “Your arm isn’t going to fall off or anything, is it?”
Rowan giggled, the light that Quinn loved so much returning to her features. He realized — belatedly, of course — that the thing she needed most was normalcy. Sally apparently understood that and gave her what she needed. Quinn was too jacked up to deliver the goods, but he knew he would have to find a way to calm down.
“Don’t get her too riled up,” he admonished Sally as he moved toward the door. “She needs to rest.”
“I don’t need rest,” Rowan countered. “I really do feel fine.”
“That’s because you’re running on adrenaline. You’re going to crash in about an hour. When that happens, I’m kicking everyone out so you can sleep.”
“I’m not going to crash.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He left Rowan and Sally to gossip and giggle and stepped into the hallway where Michael Griffin, the ship’s captain, waited for him. “Thanks for coming down.”
“Of course.” Michael was the gregarious sort, but his expression was serious today. “How is she?”
Quinn pushed open the door so Michael could see inside. Sally was in the middle of a story, using big hand gestures, and Rowan was making snorting noises to show her amusement. “She’s okay,” he said as he allowed the door to shut. “She’s riding on unnatural emotions right now, though. She’s going to crash before it’s all said and done.”
“I’m assuming that means you’re going to stick close to her today.”
“You assume right.” Quinn was no nonsense. “I’m going to have a meeting with my men within the next few hours. Just so you know, I’m putting us in lockdown. No one who doesn’t work on this ship is allowed on or off. Period.”
Michael arched an eyebrow. “Technically you have to go through me to do that.”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Ordering.”
Quinn bit back a vile retort. “Rowan was shot while minding her own business on the beach last night. You’re right. I am ordering this to be done. I won’t risk her. If you think otherwise ... .”
“Hold up.” Michael raised a hand to silence the security guru, who was apparently developing a full head of steam. “I didn’t say I thought it was
a bad idea. You’re getting ahead of yourself, though. I need to be the one to issue the order.”
“And that’s exactly why I called you here.”
“Okay, I get that.” Michael chose his words carefully. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Quinn so upset. “I need to know your rationale, though.”
“She was shot!”
“Not here she wasn’t.” Michael refused to back down. “You were on a beach, miles away, and she was shot after you spent an entire afternoon away from this ship. What makes you think whoever did this will return to wreak havoc here?”
Quinn worked his jaw. He thought for sure Michael would simply acquiesce to his demands. He hated explaining himself. “I think it has something to do with the Sterlings,” he said finally, opting for the truth. “Rowan and I were at a house this afternoon — and before you ask what we were doing there, it’s for a completely different reason and I can’t say so don’t ask — and when we were leaving, a vehicle happened to drop by. Patrice Sterling and Byron Winchester were in the vehicle ... and they were together.”
Michael wrinkled his nose. “Like ... together?” He made a lewd hand gesture that had Quinn rolling his eyes.
“If you’re asking if they were having sex while driving down the road, the answer is no. However, earlier in the day, we might have spied on them.” Quinn felt like an idiot owning up to his actions. There was no way to explain away what they’d been doing without garnering some well-deserved stink eye from the normally unflappable captain.
“You might have spied on them?”
“Well ... we’ve been suspicious about what happened while they were lost at sea. I mean ... once Pat Sterling’s hand was found on the beach by their house, that whole story they spouted the night we rescued them completely fell apart.”
Michael’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Oh, right.” Realization washed over Quinn. “You don’t know that part of the story. I kind of forgot.”
“Well, there’s no time like the present to tell me,” Michael suggested, folding his arms over his chest. “Spill.”