Renner (In the Company of Snipers Book 19)

by Irish Winters

  “There,” she breathed softly. “This is better.”

  “Your nurse won’t like it,” he told her quietly. “You should’ve stayed in bed.”

  Tara made an odd crying sound in the back of her throat. “Who cares? I don’t like hospitals. Guess that makes us even.”

  Renner spread the blanket over her long, bare legs and under her butt. He tucked it around her shoulders and draped it under her chin. “There now. You hungry?”

  Her head bumped a definite ‘no’ under his chin. “You… you were there. You saved me.”

  “Yeah, well. Wish I’d gotten there sooner.” He smoothed a hand lightly over her shoulder, careful not to hurt her, but firmly enough she knew that he knew where she’d been injured.

  Her fingertips tapped nervously on his collarbone. “Never thought anyone would find me. Thought I was going to die. He was so mad. I was scared.”

  Renner debated how much to say, but figured Tara already knew how things went down. “Kelsey called, and said you had her phone, and, well, I tracked her GPS signal. Thank God for that, or I never would’ve found you.”

  “He was going to kill me.”

  Renner nodded. “Yes, he was.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  The pain in that question crushed Renner all over again. “No, FBI has him in custody.”

  She buried her face in his neck and cried, “You should’ve killed him.”

  And Renner wished he had. Encircling Tara inside his arms, he cradled her shaking shoulders against him, rocking to soothe her. To stop the crying. He’d do anything to end the nightmare she was caught in.

  “It’s a good thing I didn’t kill him like I wanted to,” he murmured, keeping his voice soft and low. “Now we can catch the mastermind behind your ex. Jorge has something to do with a terrorist threat here in the District.”

  “But I hate him,” she whined like a sad little girl who just wanted her way. Which was what she’d probably been long before Jorge-the-bastard came into her life and crushed her under his boot.

  Renner closed his eyes. He was fast falling for this spoiled princess who’d learned one helluva lesson at the hands of a murderer. But because he was his mother’s son, Renner gave Tara what she needed more than that rat bastard’s death. He gave her hope.

  “Soon, baby,” he crooned, his lips in her hair and his honor at stake. “As soon as this thing with Montego’s over, I’ll go after What’s-His-Name, and I’ll end him. I promise. For you I’ll do anything.”

  “Jorge,” she cried as if Renner didn’t already know, “his name’s Jorge Poerbatjaraka-ka-ka.”

  Which wasn’t precisely accurate. But close enough. “I know, baby. Trust me, I know.”

  Renner nearly smiled at the petulant woman falling quickly back to sleep in his arms, and at the ‘ka-ka’ she’d ended her weary rant with. Jorge most definitely was a piece of shit.

  She might not remember this conversation or climbing onto his lap. But Renner would. Because he never—ever—made a promise he couldn’t keep.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Tara snuggled into the heat of her all-male comforter, loving the feel of Renner’s powerful arms around her sore body, the hard man beneath her bruised rump, and the scent of his breath in her face. But she loved the other scents that came with Renner as much. Leather. Whiskey. Mint. And ever since that first chance meeting—wind and freedom.

  What she really wanted was to sneak out of this hospital room and run back to her loft. She didn’t have a catheter, but her body aches kept her from being crazy. Resisting the urge to run home, she burrowed under the blankets to that warm dark place where she could hear Renner’s heart beating. It never faltered, never skipped a beat. Just kept her anchored. Grounded.

  For the first time in a long time, she was comfy warm and truly safe. Secure. She’d met Renner’s friends who were guarding her door, Seth and Beckam, both big, strong, and handsome men. They’d come into her room and introduced themselves last night when she woke up. But they would never let her leave this morning. And Mark? Tara was sure he was still in the hospital somewhere waiting for her to make a break for it. Watching her. She didn’t really mind. Now that she’d knew her doctor Libby Houston was his wife, Tara realized Mark wasn’t so bad. He was just being annoying in a big brotherly way.

  Inhaling a deep cleansing breath, she let it out slowly. She relaxed. She finally had what she’d been searching for all those hard years of early morning practice on the slopes, all those twisted knees, bruised buttocks, sore throats, and long cold days. She had a guy who loved his mom and who treated Tara like a lady. Even when she pushed him off tall, tall buildings…

  The corners of her mouth quirked remembering. Her tongue slid over her lower lip recalling the heat in that first kiss. Renner did know how to kiss, and he’d tasted male and delicious, of beer and pub mix, steak and more beer. Tempted, she ran the tip of her tongue up his throat, breathing the musky, sweaty heat of him in. She closed her eyes, wondering where her clothes ended up. She vaguely remembered the emergency room. Flashing lights. Worried voices. And then she woke up to Mark Houston. Not her finest moment.

  But then, he wasn’t her favorite guy, was he? There was still Kelsey to think about though. She’d go after Montego, but to do that and be successful, she’d need Tara’s help. Kelsey was not ready for a solo flight. Even if she were, it would be smarter if she had a partner at her side in case anything went wrong. Not that Tara followed her own advice, but the world wouldn’t miss an Olympic wannabe. They would, however, miss the savvy woman who ran Raymond’s Kids.

  So yeah. Tara eased away from her happy, safe place and—

  “Stay,” Renner ordered groggily, which had a surprising effect on her body. Ordinarily being told what to do turned Tara’s stubborn spine to titanium. But the way Renner said it, all soft and deep and achingly slow, slipped straight to her core.

  She melted onto his chest again, loving the feel of his muscular arms tightening around her, wishing she could simply stay inside his embrace and forget the rest of the world. This was why she liked him. He made her believe in herself again without pushing too hard. He made her hope. And she’d rewarded him by shoving his cute ass off a building… Yes, she’d noticed. He might have been scared, but he’d also listened and did what he needed to land safely. And he did have a nice taut backside.

  Tara drew in a deep breath. “I have to go to work today.”

  “Oh?” he asked, his eyes still closed. “You mean at Raymond’s Kids? With Kelsey Stewart?”

  She turned coy. “You knew?”

  His shoulders lifted. “Course I knew. But no, you’re not going anywhere. You have one more day of hospital time. They’re keeping you for observation. Twenty-four more hours… if you’re good.”

  “If I’m good?” That made her smile. She let her fingers walk up that magnificent chest. To his neck. To the scruff on his chin. Man, just breathing him in was turning her on. “When did you figure it out?”

  “Ah, let me think.” His big, capable hands slid down her back, tangling with the ties at the back of her—

  Oh, no! I’m in a stupid hospital gown. Naked!

  Tara stiffened, but Renner must’ve sensed her unease. Of course. How could he miss? She’d all but turned into a board that he was even now massaging into compliance and warmth and... lust? The way his fingers cupped the cheek of her ass—helped. Tara tipped her upper body into him, rubbing against his pecs. His belly. His cock.

  From that once in a lifetime moment at McCormack’s penthouse window, she’d been attracted to this guy. He’d been a virgin to windsurfing then. Yes, he’d certainly thought he was going to die, but now… here… Tara wanted to lay down and die with him. Wasn’t that what an orgasm with the right man was called, a glorious mini-death of meteoric proportions? A bright and sizzling star in the darkest night? Wasn’t that what happened when two people fell in—

  No. This was not love. She’d b
een dumb once. Never again.

  Until he growled, “Come here, you,” and tugged her into his mouth.

  Tara wanted him. There. Now. It might not be love, but with all her cuts and bruises and sins and crimes, she still wanted him. The only thing standing between them was…

  “Kelsey,” she murmured into his luscious open mouth. Against his lickable lips. Breathing hard, she told him what she had planned never to reveal. “Kelsey’s in trouble. She’s going after Montego, Renner. She means to kill her.”

  His hands never hesitated, never loosened their tight grip on her ass. “Kelsey’s fine. Trust me. She’s good.”

  “But how…?” His tongue arrowed along the seam of her lips and she opened, thrilled at the gentle but thorough way he took over the kiss, one hand now circling her neck, the other palm still warm and firm, kneading her rump as he made love with her mouth. Her tongue. Oh, man, yes. “How…? But Kel… Kel...”

  Ah, he was kissing the hell out of her. She couldn’t think! But when his hand slipped from her butt to her core… When his fingers slipped between her legs… Into her body… When he found that tiny spot of sweet release…

  When he groaned…

  Tara gave in to the fast-as-lightning spike of crazy hot pleasure spiraling through her battered body. “Renner,” she gasped, not thinking, just feeling. The pinch where it mattered. The nibble of his teeth on her chin. The rub and friction of his whiskers against her sensitive skin. The wet gush of heat and heaven and bliss and…

  “Ah,” she growled into his neck, wanting to scream his name without his friends in the hall hearing. But yes. Shouting ‘Renner!’ to the stars was all she wanted to do. He held her a little tighter as she drifted back into herself. Still clenching. Still throbbing. Still aching and wanting so much more than this singular, stolen rush of two hearts beating as one.

  Strung tight, she let the shock waves coursing over her body hold onto his fingers even as she knew this was not the time or place to return the favor. But man, oh, man, oh, man. He had no idea what this little petting party meant to a woman who’d been raped and forced to endure the vilest humiliations under the guise of sacred matrimony. She’d honestly never wanted a man to touch her again. Yet here Renner was. Ever gentle. So careful. He’d slipped past her defenses like the wind. There’d been no time for worry or all those awful what-ifs. He’d given only pleasure. And not once had he hurt her during her quick rise to the stars.

  “You’re crying,” he murmured, his head ducked low to peer into her face.

  Tara shook her head, embarrassed yet thrilled, shocked yet infinitely serene. How all those contrasting emotions fit together had her wondering if she’d gone bi-polar overnight.

  She ran a finger under her leakiest eye, wiping the drip before it got away from her. “It’s just that…” How could she tell Renner how much this small indiscretion meant? That he’d given a measure of her femininity back. That maybe she wasn’t broken or ugly or a worthless whore after all. That she could finally face her demons and heal. Maybe even—live. Look people in the eye again. Did she dare? “It’s just that you seem to see right through me. All the time. You know what to say.”

  By then she was face to face with her gorgeously handsome male friend. Renner cut a dashing figure after sex, or whatever this was. His mussed hair was even more mussed. His face glowed. She wanted to run her fingers over his head just to watch him smile. His five o’clock shadow gave him a rugged, dangerous appeal. But the soft light in those dark blues... The small smile quirking his lips... Lips she wanted to bite and lick...

  “Are you going to live now?” he whispered, his voice the soft, sexy purr of a contented man who knew how to take care of his woman. He had hit all the high spots. She wasn’t anyone’s woman, yet she could see this man being in her life. Somehow. He would be a hot mess to wake up to every morning. Under the covers. Or on top. Maybe just for as long as it took to bring Montego down. That’d be nice. Maybe longer. But maybe not.

  “Are you?” she asked, ashamed at the quivering fear in her tone instead of the bolstering confidence he’d given her.

  Renner nodded, never blinking. “Yes, ma’am.”

  That was all. Just ‘yes, ma’am.’ Just ultra-polite and genuinely tender. Even falling to what he’d thought was his death, he’d never cursed, fought or denigrated her. He’d simply grabbed hold and he’d held on. He’d fallen with her.

  Tara smiled then. At last, it felt like she had her life back.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Alex wouldn’t wake up. Kelsey held her palm to his chest. He was barely breathing. Her worst fears were coming true. Frightened now, she placed a quick 911 call, then rang McKenna, all while she planted Lexie at the kitchen table in front of a bowl of cold cereal. With her cell phone tucked into her neck, Kelsey listened to McKenna’s voice mail, then left a panicked, “I need you. Hurry! This is Kelsey. Something’s happened and Alex isn’t breathing right or enough. He won’t wake up. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I hewped Daddy,” Lexie mumbled proudly around a mouthful of something fruity and probably loaded with too much sugar.

  “That’s nice. You’re such a big girl,” Kelsey answered, her mind on Alex and her heart pumping furiously even as she forced a calm demeanor for her daughter’s sake. “Stay here and eat. I’ll be right back, okay, sweetie?”

  “Ah huh. I a big girl cuz I hewped Daddy.” She’d been saying that a lot since she’d helped Alex at Arlington. Lexie adored her father, and no, just no! This couldn’t be happening. It was too soon! He was still young and virile and… “No!” Kelsey growled at the heavens as she flew back to his side. “No! I refuse to let him go. Please don’t take him from us.”

  Alex lay silent on his back on his side of their bed, still in a ratty old USMC t-shirt and gym shorts, his usual pajamas, one hand on his chest. Still not drawing in air like he should. He looked peaceful enough, but the dying were just as peaceful and quiet.

  “God, Alex, not you, too,” she cried as she pressed her ear to his chest, tears flooding her vision. He didn’t seem to be in any pain or distress. He just wasn’t breathing right. Too slow. So shallow. She could barely hear him. “I need you, baby. Please! Don’t die!”

  She couldn’t beg hard enough. Her tears fell like rain. When she’d come home last night, Alex had already been asleep. But he’d been sick, so she hadn’t worried. He was a stubborn man, and he always refused to rest when he should. It was bound to catch up with him.

  Diligently, she’d checked his forehead for a fever, put Lexie into her own bed, then snuggled into bed with Alex, spooning like they always did. He’d grumbled something about Renner, but then he wrapped an arm around her, again, like he always did. Kelsey told him she loved him, that they needed to talk, and they both fell asleep.

  But when her alarm rang this morning and Alex was still in bed…

  When he didn’t answer when she asked him if he was going in late…

  When she couldn’t wake him…

  She ran her fingers over his hard head and through his hair, measuring the loss staring her in the face against their too few years together. They needed more time. More lovemaking. More everything!

  It seemed like forever before her security app pinged a notification. Thank God! McKenna was here. Kelsey ran to let her friend in.

  “Tell me what you know,” McKenna ordered, her voice stern and professional as she marched down the hall to Alex.

  “Alex doesn’t seem to be in any pain. He’s not pale. No temp this morning or last night. He just won’t wake up and he’s not breathing right.”

  “Has he fallen lately? Any head injury I don’t know about? Dizziness? We need to talk about concussions one of these days. Has he had any?”

  “None that I know of, not that he’d tell me. Usually, it’s the other guy who gets concussed.”

  “Could be nothing,” McKenna assured her before she palmed the bedroom door and strode purposefully t
o Alex’s side. “Let’s not panic, okay?”

  Kelsey bit back a cry. She was way past the point of panicking. This fierce, bossy, arrogant man was everything good in her life. Alex and Lexie. If she lost either of them...

  McKenna had brought her doctor bag with her, which caught Lexie’s eye. She scampered in and right away climbed up beside Alex and told McKenna, “I hewped Daddy,” in her big girl voice.

  “You did? Well, aren’t you the good girl?” McKenna asked as she checked his eyes, ears, nose and mouth, then told Kelsey, “No sign of blockage. Airways are clear.”

  Lexie nodded, her cute little lips puckered into a pout. “He was firsty and I hewped.” She wiggled when she said that. So proud. So much the light in her father’s eye.

  “Oh, that’s nice.” McKenna’s stethoscope centered on Alex’s chest, her head canted as she listened. “Kelsey, please hand the pressure cuff to me. Should be at the top of my bag.”

  “And Mommy says always hewp Daddy cuz he’s the best Daddy I got.”

  “I called 911,” Kelsey breathed as she handed the cuff over. By then her hands were shaking. This couldn’t be happening! How would she live without Alex?

  Lexie craned her sweet little head, peering sideways at Kelsey. “You sad, Mommy? You wanna dwink?”

  “Yes, baby. Mommy’s thirsty. Run and get me a drink.” Kelsey ran her fingers through her hair, frantic to help McKenna but not medically trained. She felt so helpless!

  “You’re going to pass out if you don’t settle down,” McKenna warned as Lexie toddled off. “Honestly, I’m not hearing a heart arrhythmia, there are no signs he’s had a stroke, which, and I have to be honest with you, was my first suspicion. But now that I see him…” McKenna ran her practiced hands over his forehead and down his neck. Over his shoulders, pressing the glands under his arms, then his spleen. “I’d say we’re looking at a terribly fit, healthy man, who’s worked himself to a state of exhaustion. Course he’d argue that diagnosis if he were awake.”