“He said, as of right then, they believed it to be an accident and the driver fled because she was either under the influence of something illegal or sheer fear and embarrassment of losing control of the car. But he would take down what I had to say and look into it.” Jonathan was hiding his frustration. No matter how immense it was. Kate had already been through enough. He didn’t need to escalate her nerves by adding his own. Still, she reacted badly to the news.
“An accident?” she squawked, attracting attention from the people walking around them. She didn’t lower her voice. “She had an entire intersection to hit the brakes. Heck, after she killed those first two people by running them over, she could have put her foot on the brake pedal. No, what she did, she did on purpose. Greg is on his way to the hospital because that woman knew exactly what she was doing.” Her free hand had fisted and her breathing had quickened. The passion she had exhibited when talking about the convention that morning was back. With a healthy dose of anger mixed in. She shook the case in her hand. “This is supposed to save people, not hurt them.”
They were a block from the hotel. Jonathan looked away from Kate and kept his eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. He didn’t comment on what she said until they finally made it to the hotel’s elevator. When it closed them in, he turned and asked a question he’d been wanting to ask for a while.
“Normally Orion agents don’t have to get too specific on client details,” he started. “We give you the privacy you deserve. That is, until whatever information you’re withholding puts you in danger. I’m not saying that woman was targeting you, or trying to scare you, or if she was desperate to get her hands on that silver case. However, if any of that is true, then I have to ask you one question.” Jonathan grabbed her chin in his hand and tilted her eyes up until they were locked with his. “Kate, what’s in the case?”
Chapter Eleven
The elevator beeped at their floor before Kate let out a breath. Jonathan held her face in his hand, but it was his eyes that once again had all of her attention. The fact that she could see every swirl of blue, a dark pond as still and beautiful as a painting, only highlighted the realization that the bodyguard was less than a few inches away from her lips.
Did he feel the urge to kiss her?
Did she feel the urge to kiss him?
No, Kate, she thought. He wants to know what’s in the case, that’s all.
“You saved my life, Jonathan,” she stated, hedging around a response. “Thank you.”
The bodyguard didn’t want to relent—she could tell by the way he stayed still, not budging physically—but then the elevator doors started to close again. He stuck his hand out to stop them, turning away from her and letting her face go in the process. She felt the warmth of his skin even after the contact was broken.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jonathan asked as they walked toward their doors. She was thankful he’d dropped his earlier question but knew it was a matter of time before he’d ask again. If she was him, she would have kept nagging. Then again, Jonathan didn’t seem like the type of person who nagged. “Yes, just a headache.” She got her key card out and paused. “I didn’t want to take this into the hospital,” she said, motioning to the case in her hand. “But I would like to go there to check on Greg. Even though it’s also not on the itinerary.”
Jonathan’s expression softened.
“That’s no problem. I’d like to check on him, too.”
Kate smiled a genuine smile at the man tasked with protecting her.
“Let me rinse off and then we can go.”
They parted ways. Kate threw the top latch when her door was shut and took a moment to stare at it.
You aren’t in any danger, she remembered thinking the day before. Thinking Jonathan’s overprotectiveness had led to paranoia that had started to leak into her.
It’s just in his head.
But now, could she claim the same?
The sound the car had made as it slammed into the first man and woman replayed in her head. She would have stayed frozen to the spot, terrified and unable to move, and been hit head-on had Jonathan not acted quickly. Sure, she’d hit her head in the process, but he’d saved her life by getting her out of the car’s path. In that moment he’d truly done his job as bodyguard.
Greg’s motionless body, crumpled against the asphalt, slid into her mind. The terror and anguish she’d first felt at seeing him started to grow within her again.
Had the woman really done that to him—to the rest of those walking over the crosswalk—because of Kate?
Her thoughts turned rapid, firing off in quick succession as she went through her interactions with her mentor in the last two decades. They went back as far as to include her mother in some.
I can’t be the reason why he’s hurt, she thought, moving back from the door like it had suddenly caught fire. I just can’t be.
She turned her thoughts to the case in her hand and decided to slide it under the bed. Right then she needed to rinse the dirt and blood off her and head to the hospital. Until that morning she hadn’t even known if she would get Greg’s gift before the convention. She could wait another few hours before opening it.
A sigh escaped her lips as she stepped into the hot shower a minute later. Its temperature was instantly welcomed as each stream began to unknot the tension in her body. Trying to forget about how five years of her life were now being outshone by the last twenty-four hours in New York City was difficult to comprehend. Able to sidestep the violent, life-threatening parts, her thoughts turned to the man next door.
She ran her hands up and over her face, comparing Jonathan to herself. Before their talk with Greg she’d believed him to be as single-minded as she was about his work. But then he’d admitted he wanted roots.
Roots. Family. Love.
Could she claim the same? For the last five years and, to some extent, before she’d even begun her research, her life had revolved around the pursuit to save others from dealing with the same tragedy she had. She’d kissed, liked, dated and even shared her bed with a few suitors, but none of them had had staying power. They’d mistaken her unyielding determination for obsession instead of passion.
Kate paused to watch some of her blood swirl down the drain.
Had she blurred the line between the two?
Had her dream to prevent the senseless loss of life had the exact opposite effect on hers?
Pain exploded, hot and electric, on the back of her neck. Kate slapped at it, but by the time her hand touched the spot, the pain was gone. Confused, she ran her finger across the skin. The shock of pain didn’t come back, but she realized there was a dull soreness radiating downward.
“What the—”
Kneading the skin around the source of the pain, she ran across a patch of skin that was raised. The dull soreness began to burn as it made its way down her body.
“Oh, my God.”
Her thoughts began to race, her heart rate accelerating. She knew what this was. What solace or calm she’d tried to get from the hot shower definitely wasn’t going to be obtained anymore. Turning off the water on reflex alone, she stumbled out of the shower and tried to take a breath.
It came out easily enough. Perhaps too easily. It turned into an extended yawn. Though the shower had woken her up considerably, Kate found her eyelids were growing heavy.
Too heavy.
Too fast.
Concern and confusion turned to fear as the feeling of wariness intensified.
Kate fumbled for a towel but missed it altogether. Her mind was trying to work overtime to make a plan of action while a haze was growing rapidly around her. She fumbled for her phone next to the sink. One thought was still bright enough to see among the enclosing fog. She quickly cycled through the names in her contacts before landing on one.
Quickly her
fingers flew across the tiny keyboard while her vision began to blur. Her fear doubled, but it was just a thought. One her body wasn’t responding to anymore. She hit Send, but her vision was spotting. She couldn’t see if she’d hit the right button.
That worry alone propelled her out of the bathroom and to the adjoining door between her room and Jonathan’s. She hoped the text had gone through. The way she was struggling to keep her eyes open made her doubt she’d have enough time to tell him what he needed to know.
The card to open the door was still on the TV stand. Kate dragged her palm against its top, trying to grab it. She was able to curl her fingers around the plastic, but when she turned back to the door, her legs buckled beneath her. The card fell along with her body until she was on all fours, struggling to manage a last-ditch knock.
However, the weight of unconsciousness was too much. It crushed her before she could even try to think of another plan.
And then Kate was naked, wet and alone.
* * *
“WHAT?”
Jonathan looked at his phone with his head cocked to the side and eyebrow raised. He hadn’t expected and didn’t understand the text on his phone from Kate.
Call jake not 922!!!
Jake? Nine hundred and twenty-two?
“What?” he asked the room again. His eyes traveled to the wall that separated their rooms just as his brain made sense of the random text. Nine-one-one!
Jonathan’s body went on alert. He went to the adjoining door and knocked.
“Kate?”
He didn’t hesitate.
Grabbing the key card, he unlocked the door and pushed it outward, but something kept it from swinging all the way open. He moved around the door and looked down to see what was blocking it. The scene he was met with was just as confusing as the text had been.
“Kate!”
She was lying on her side, slumped over on the ground, the door hitting her right shoulder. Her hand was out but empty, the card for the door discarded next to it. Like she had been trying to get to him but couldn’t. Not only was she unconscious, she was also naked.
Jonathan didn’t immediately check her. He had his fists up, ready to attack the man or woman who was behind her current state of distress. There was no one in the main room or bathroom. All he found was a bathroom filled with steam and a wet, naked woman against the carpet.
Then what had happened? Had her head injury caused this? But what was this?
“Kate,” he said, urgency clear in his voice. Its tone or volume didn’t stir the woman. Jonathan dropped to his knee and inspected her closer.
She had a pulse. It beat to a rhythm that wasn’t strong but also wasn’t weak. It thumped against his fingers on her neck with a steady beat that inspired an outpouring of relief on his end. He moved his attention to her chest, mindful not to focus on the more intimate parts, to find her breath pushing her body up and down with no apparent difficulty. Jonathan’s eyes traveled the rest of her body, once again not with a focus that crossed the line between bodyguard and client, and couldn’t find any identifying marks that suggested she’d been physically attacked.
“Kate?” he asked again. Moving her hair across her cheek and away from her face, Jonathan saw a woman who looked almost peaceful.
Jonathan started to grab his phone—clearly Kate wasn’t waking up—when he remembered the text.
Call jake not 922!!!
He had no doubt in his mind that she’d meant to say, “Nine-one-one,” which meant she’d known something was about to happen to her. But why not call the one service you were supposed to call in a situation like this?
He cast a quick glance at the still brunette. He also had no doubt that the woman was smart, brilliant even. So it was no stretch of the imagination that Kathryn Spears knew more than he did about her current condition.
Jonathan just hoped this Jake person did, too.
Kate’s phone was on the bathroom sink, still on the screen with the text she’d sent. Under different circumstances, he would have either been annoyed or amused to find his contact listed under the name Mr. Bodyguard. Instead he didn’t have time to dawdle. He scrolled through her contacts to the one and only Jake. He hit Call without hesitating.
It rang twice.
“Kate?” a man answered, sounding surprised. “Can I call you back in two seconds?” A flurry of voices sounded on his end.
“This isn’t Kate, and we need to talk now.”
Jonathan might not have known anything about the man, but he could tell what had been surprise at getting Kate’s call had tripled. With added aggression.
“Who is this? Where is Kate?” the man asked, audibly moving away from the voices in the background.
“My name is Jonathan Carmichael, I’m—”
“The bodyguard?”
That gave Jonathan pause.
“Yes,” he admitted.
“What’s wrong with Kate?” While Jake had been ready to go on the offensive with Jonathan, his tone had changed to one of acute concern. A whiplash effect that spoke volumes about him. Whoever the man was, he cared about Kate.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Jonathan answered. “She sent me a text that said to call you and not nine-one-one. Less than a minute later I found her passed out on her hotel room floor.” Jonathan didn’t know why, but he left out the part about her being naked. Whether it was a weird jealousy he felt or a wild notion that he was somehow protecting her virtue, he had no idea. “She’s breathing fine and has a normal pulse, but she’s unresponsive. Less than an hour ago she got a concussion but said she knew it was fine.”
The sound of a beep, maybe an elevator, Jonathan thought, popped in the background. Wherever Jake was, he was moving.
“No. If Kate said to call me and not an ambulance, then I can guarantee you she didn’t pass out from a concussion. Have you called or told anyone about her?” he asked.
“No,” Jonathan admitted, wondering for a second if he had made a mistake by calling Jake. “But since telling me to only call you was probably the last thing she did before she lost consciousness, I figured that was the best route to take.”
“Good, that’s good.” Another faint beep traveled through the connection. “Has anyone come into contact with her in the last half hour?”
“Like I said, she was in an accident where she hit her head against the road.”
“No, I mean, did anyone have physical, skin-to-skin contact with her?” Jake’s frustration put Jonathan on edge. Instead of combating the feeling and the man it came from, it made him focus on the question.
“Aside from me and an unconscious work associate of hers, no.” Then he remembered something. “Actually, an EMT checked her head in the back of an ambulance. Less than a half hour ago.” As he said it, Jonathan knelt back down beside Kate. He put the cell phone between his shoulder and cheek to free up his hands. Gingerly, he ran his hands over the back of her hair, trying to find the wound. He found it and the dried blood over it.
“Check the back of her neck for any raised skin or mark,” Jake rushed to say.
“Already ahead of you,” Jonathan muttered, running his fingers down from the wound to the skin of her neck. Kate’s skin was warm, wet and soft. “Wait.” Jonathan paused as his finger ran over a small bump on the back of her neck. He moved her hair out of the way and leaned closer, narrowing his eyes at the raised skin. “There’s a bump in the middle of her neck. It isn’t red or pink. I would have missed it had I not been feeling for it. There’s also a tiny hole in the middle of it.” Jonathan looked back into the bathroom. Aside from her clothes, there was nothing out of the ordinary as far as he could tell. “Did she do that to herself?”
“If she did, she’s crazier than I thought,” Jake said. “No, I think that EMT wasn’t your run-of-the-mill paramedic.”
He looked down at Kate’s relaxed face.
“I can only make a few guesses, and that would take up time we don’t have.” The warning behind Jake’s words amplified the urgency Jonathan had carried moments before. “Text me the hotel address and room number. I need to make some calls on the way over there.”
Jonathan’s instinct to protect the privacy of his client flared to life.
“What’s going on? Is she going to be okay?”
“No. Not if you play hardball with me,” he spit out. “If you make me go through the trouble of tracing this call, we’re going to lose minutes that could save her.”
“Listen, buddy, I don’t even know who you are,” Jonathan pointed out.
Jake let out an aggravated sigh of frustration, barely dimmed by the sound of a car door shutting.
“You don’t know me, but Kate does,” he said. “She wanted you to call me and not the authorities because I know why she’s in New York. I can’t imagine she even told you that last part, did she?”
“The convention—” Jonathan started. The man was quick to interrupt.
“Is only the tip of the iceberg.”
Chapter Twelve
Jonathan carefully picked up Kate’s naked body and moved her to the bed. In any other situation, that alone would have been exhilarating in its own right. Taking a beautiful woman to bed without a stitch of clothing on her body would be followed by him joining her, also sans clothes.
However, Jonathan wasn’t aroused in the least.
Instead, he was close to overwhelmed with concern.
“Don’t worry, Kate,” Jonathan whispered as he pulled the sheets and blanket up to her shoulders. “I’m going to fix this. Whatever this is.”
Kate remained as unresponsive as she had been when he’d first found her. A fleeting thought that he should dress her crossed his mind, but he batted it away, afraid that jostling her too much might worsen her condition.
Be on the Lookout Page 8
