by Lisa Hughey
“I’m going to take this to the lab myself and request the results stat.” The doctor held up the vial of blood, shook the contents. “I’ll be right back.”
“Are you sure it’s okay to leave?”
“It will be five minutes at the most.” But then Mila hesitated. “Press this red button if her breathing starts to worsen or she throws up.”
Alex listened the monitors intently, never taking his gaze from Kita, obsessively watching her chest rise and fall.
Right after Mila left, Shep arrived in the surgery suite.
“Any intelligence?”
Shep stood across Kita’s body and propped his hands on his hip. Alex shot a quick glance at him before shifting his attention back to Kita.
“Very little. A woman in a black dress gave him the drink and a twenty-dollar bill to give it to Judge Adams.”
“A woman. In a black dress. At a political fundraiser.” Disgust rumbled through him. That wouldn’t be a problem.
“With big boobs.” Shep’s mouth twitched.
“A woman with breasts.” Alex wanted to swear. Jesus Christ on a cracker.
“Big breasts.” Shep clarified.
The judge piped up from his seat. “A woman?”
Yeah, that was interesting.
“We did get one other piece of info.” Shep snapped back to seriousness and lost the smirk. “White woman.”
“Which rules out maybe half or less of the attendees.”
“You’re assuming she had a ticket,” the judge said.
That would also narrow their list of their potential suspects. The ticket price was sky-high. Jilted lover? Except that the judge tended to “date” much younger women who either worked for him or in some capacity at the courts. They wouldn’t have the cash to buy a ticket. However, the mysterious woman might be the wife of someone he’d put away. Just like Mr. Gauss from this morning, another disgruntled spouse could be making the threats.
Alex said, “Let’s get the list of ticket attendees and comb through it for any connections to the judge and his cases.”
The glass was likely a nonstarter.
Shep confirmed Alex’s thoughts. “The glass shattered into too many pieces to get any prints.”
Alex clutched at any thought that might give them intelligence like he clutched Kita’s hand. “What about the bill?”
Shep rolled his eyes. “Alex, you know how many fingerprints are on money.”
“But you got it.”
“Of course I got it, but it’s probably a dead end.”
Alex’s brain clicked along. So far they had no actionable intelligence. “So we have to wait for the toxicology report to come back.”
“Yeah.”
Alex ran the fingers of his free hand through his hair. “A woman. Close up and personal. Not somewhere far away and online. She was in that damn room. Can we get security tapes?”
“Already on it,” Shep said.
“Obviously not on it enough since Kita is lying here unconscious.” Alex swallowed, afraid his voice was going to break. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t even want Adams-Larsen or Kita Kim on this case.
Shep raised his brows.
And okay, yeah, he was slightly out of control.
Mila took that moment to come back into the room. Shep had his weapon out and pointed at her within seconds.
She yelped and jumped back. Her thick-lashed eyes widened. “What in the hell are you doing? You don’t bring a weapon into a house of healing.”
Alex said drily, “Deputy Marshal Sheppard Gaffney meet Dr. Sharmila Patel.”
Shep paused, gathered his control back, then tucked his weapon into the leather holster at his waist. He mustered a lazy grin and held out his hand. “Call me Shep.”
“Pass.” She dismissed him and bent over Kita.
Blink. Blink. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen his pal Shep at a loss for words. He was one of those guys who was slick and yet likable. People, women especially, warmed to him right away.
Shep audibly snapped shut his jaw.
And if Alex wasn’t one second away from losing his shit, he would have laughed. “Shouldn’t she be awake by now?”
“It’s not an exact science. But….”
His heart jumped in his throat. “What?”
Jesus, what if she was getting worse?
“Alex, she’s responding positively.”
He looked closer at Kita. Her skin color had warmed, a faint blush of peach covered her cheeks. Her lips were still deathly pale but the room was much quieter. Her breathing had softened, steadied, no longer struggling to escape her traumatized body.
The judge shuffled over to the gurney where Kita rested. “She really is going to be okay?” His brash front had subdued as if he finally realized the gravity of Kita’s condition.
“I still need the tox screens back, and her vitals should be monitored for the next twenty-four hours but—” Mila checked the machines, ran her palms down Kita’s arms, and lifted her hand to inspect her fingernails “—right now her prognosis appears good.”
“Thank goodness.” The judge slumped. “I really didn’t think….”
“No, you didn’t.” Now that Kita was going to be okay, Alex was going to let Judge Adams have it. “The second she told you it was time to leave you should have listened.”
“Uh, Alex.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Alex let go of Kita’s hand and began to pace. His shoulders bunched around his ears and his hands clenched into fists. “You put Ms. Kim and yourself in danger.”
“I didn’t actually think the threat was real.”
Alex fumed. “Then why the hell did you want Adams-Larsen on the case?”
“Uh, Alex.” Shep’s tone finally got through to him.
“Yeah?” he snarled.
“Can I talk to you? Outside?” Shep smiled at the doctor, pouring on his considerable charm. His non-gun hand gripped Alex’s arm, hard. “We’ll be right back.”
Once the door to the surgery suite closed behind them, Alex yanked his arm from his grasp. “What do you want?”
He couldn’t stand being away from Kita. The barrier of the shut door had him jonesing to confirm she was okay, still breathing. His heart rate accelerated like he was the one who’d just been injected with a syringe full of adrenaline. Shep grabbed his head and forced him to look at him. “Alex, what is happening here?”
“What?” But he was only half paying attention.
“You were yelling at your security protectee.”
“I’d hardly call that yelling.” Alex shook his head. “And the judge was totally out of line.”
“Mr. By-The-Book Saunders isn’t thinking clearly, or acting properly.”
Shep’s words stopped him cold. He was right. Alex was acting totally out of character. Like she’d cast some sorcery over him and he’d let things like duty, and protocol, and regulations just slip away from him without taking a deliberate step toward anarchy.
Hadn’t he just been thinking about how important it was to follow protocol?
Alex dropped his head to stare at the shiny linoleum flooring. The ripples in the bluish gray and black pattern swam before his eyes as he unfocused and reviewed the past hour. He had acted emotionally, without thinking through the consequences. That could have had major repercussions on the judge, himself, the US Marshals. What the hell had he been thinking?
He needed to rein in his emotions and get back to the rules. Get back to the way he’d done things in the past. “Okay. Yes.” He gritted out one last word: “Sorry.”
“Everything’s fine. It’s just…not like you.” Shep slapped a meaty hand on his shoulder.
“I’m good now.” Or at least he would be. He needed to pull it together. It was his responsibility to protect the judge. His responsibility to make sure that no one got to his protectee. And he’d failed.
His mouth dry and his palms sweaty, Alex contemplated what he’d almost done. No more distraction
s.
He had to keep his eye on his goal to protect the judge.
Chapter 9
Kita woke up in a strange room.
The bed was cushy, the walls light gray, and the furniture what she considered Old World pompous. Her apartment was a riot of color and an eclectic mix of Asian and American, kinda like her.
Her head thumped, a rhythmic throbbing pulsing behind her left eye. She jammed her hands against her temples, trying to relieve the pressure and desperately attempting to remember what the hell happened.
Her scrambled brain reached for memories, for details, for anything. Was she hungover? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been drunk. Alcohol and her heritage didn’t mix well. Although, if anything could drive her there it was likely Mr. Tall, Dark, and Pain in the Ass Saunders.
She had the oddest recollection of him hovering over her, whispering in her ear. The memory lingered just out of reach, like a veil draped over her mind, obscuring things.
She rolled to her back and nearly let out a scream.
Alex Saunders was in the bed next to her. He lay on top of the comforter. His blue-black hair stood straight up in unruly spikes, and day-old stubble dusted his jaw and upper lip. Like her earlier fantasy come to life, he’d lost the manual up his butt. This rumpled, scruffy, fresh-from-bed guy was far too appealing.
Even though her head was pounding, her body perked up and took notice.
Hot guy alert.
Sunlight streamed in between the curtains. He turned his head to look at her, casting his face in shadows. “You’re awake.” He stared as if trying to see inside her to where all her secrets and fears lurked. His gazed trailed over her face and shoulders.
Kita drew the covers up, just now realizing she wore only a lacy bra and panties beneath the cool sheets.
“What are you doing here?” she croaked. Her chapped lips split as she tried to swallow away her confusion.
“You needed to be monitored for twenty-four hours.” Alex sat up. He was still dressed but he’d exchanged his suit pants for jeans and his jacket and tie were MIA. The blue button-down with rolled-up sleeves emphasized his corded forearms as he rubbed his callused fingers over his face.
“So you stayed with me?”
That seemed out of character for the uptight by-the-book agent who’d tried to shoot her down yesterday.
His fair skin flushed. “Doc said you needed someone to stay with you,” he repeated stubbornly.
Oookay. Huh. But as the implications sank in, she acknowledged that she owed him. “Thank you then.” She couldn’t help it, the thanks was grudging.
The bed depressed next to her as he leaned closer, studying her. Looking for weakness?
His eyebrows arched down. Alex Saunders reached out, his fingertips brushed her hair away from her face. Her skin buzzed where his fingers touched. “How are you feeling?”
She girded her thoughts and cleared her throat. Vague images were coming back to her, and suddenly the tiny cuts on her legs throbbed. The fundraiser. The drink. The immediate debilitating weakness.
“I survived.” She shrugged. The words came out husky, strained. Like she hadn’t spoken in a long time.
“Yeah.”
Kita wracked her brain as the silence turned awkward. “Judge okay?” Not that she really cared.
“Yeah.”
“Where am I?” Disappointment roared through her like an out-of-control raging river. She had let down Jill, and Hannah, and those kids.
“The judge’s guest bedroom.” Alex shifted his gaze so he wasn’t looking at her. “I convinced him to take today off so you can rest and get back to fighting shape.”
“Wait, so I’m still on the case?” She tried to connect the pieces but her synapses were firing at a sloth’s pace, every movement, thought, like a slow-motion video.
“Of course you are.”
But—
“You saved the judge.” Alex barked. “And put your own life in danger.”
Wasn’t that what everyone expected?
“Jesus, Kita.” Alex pushed up from the bed. “You aren’t trained and you did a hell of a job under difficult circumstances.”
Umm…“Thanks?” She had to say it again; this time it grated just a little less.
The silence continued. The room was slightly stale, as if the judge rarely had guests. At least not the kind who slept in the extra bedroom. The only thing saving her nose was the fresh clean scent of Alex’s hair. How he could smell so fabulous when he’d clearly been asleep beside her was a good question. But filling her senses was that pine scent, like he’d just come from outdoors. His hair was all mussed, slightly curling behind his ears, as if maybe he needed a trim to keep himself all buttoned up. And God, she had to wonder what he’d look like if he totally let loose.
There was a tired cast to his eyes as he skimmed his gaze over her body. Looking for what she had no idea.
The gap in conversation started to become awkward. A tension invaded her limbs, because suddenly it occurred to her that she was in bed, wearing next to nothing, and he was next to her fully dressed. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, a flush she wasn’t anticipating blossomed in her stomach, spreading outward, crawling up her chest and neck and into her face.
Even her ears burned.
A subtle tension shimmered between them.
She didn’t know what to say to break this weird friction. He appeared on the verge of speaking.
The doorbell rang, interrupting the awkward moment.
Alex sprinted for the door as if the rules police were nipping at his heels. Sitting in bed with a fellow agent was probably a big fat no-no in his favorite book. “I’ll be back.”
Not sure if he meant to channel Arnold in the Terminator, but she was determined to at least be dressed when or if he returned.
She scrambled out from under the covers. In the corner was her small roller bag. She had another garment bag that held all the clothes from Jillian but the roller had her yoga and workout clothes and a nightgown. Which clearly no one had bothered to find.
She had another uncomfortable thought. Who had undressed her?
Digging through her bag, Kita yanked out yoga capris and a spandex halter top. She wished she had time for a shower; she smelled of antiseptic and hospital. When she bent her arm, the crook of her elbow twinged. She had another bruise on the back of her left hand, and the little cuts on her legs were stinging.
What had happened to her?
Carefully she eased the capri leggings over her cut-up shins.
Kita’s mouth would qualify as a toxic waste facility so she hit the bathroom and quickly brushed her teeth. While she was getting cleaned up, her thoughts shifted to Hannah, who she’d promised to stay in touch with every day. Yesterday she’d only texted that she was working on a solution to her problems. She didn’t want to get her hopes up before Jillian had a plan in place. But Kita needed to find her phone and at least touch base.
Three sharp knocks, almost bangs, hit the bedroom door.
“Come in.”
Alex poked his head in but avoided her gaze. “Team meeting in five.”
Huh. Team. She was part of the team now. Guess getting poisoned and almost killed upped her credibility. “I’ll be right out.”
Alex fought the urge to pace the judge’s ornate living room. At his current rate he’d wear a hole in the expensive wool rug.
Jillian Larsen was here, along with Shep, and some big dude who looked like the Rock’s younger brother.
Kita strode into the room in skintight spandex, showing no weakness. If he hadn’t had a ringside seat to her barely breathing medical emergency last night, he wouldn’t believe she’d been unconscious the better part of twelve hours.
When she saw the giant who could bench yesterday’s limo no problem, her entire face metamorphosed. Her lips and brows lifted, her cheeks widened, and her eyes sparkled. She practically threw herself at the Rock wannabe. “Hey, Dwayne.”
Dwayne—reall
y?—wrapped his overly large biceps around her head and pulled her in to his massive chest. “You okay?”
Her face was hidden from Alex’s view, but her shoulders lifted. Dropped. “I’ll live.”
And thank God, or really Mila, for that.
“Good news,” Dwayne said blandly. But there was relief in his eyes and his smile was blindingly white.
Emotion bubbled up inside Alex. Gratitude, annoyance, jealousy? He didn’t like this proprietary urge that came over him whenever another man was touching her. It was none of his goddamn business who she wanted to wrap around like a layer of Saran Wrap. Her personal life was inconsequential to his mission and his job.
Still, he was honest enough with himself to acknowledge that his response was beyond a tepid “didn’t like it.” He hated that this Neanderthal was holding her.
So far the employees of Adams-Larsen did not resemble anyone he knew in public relations. “So I guess your PR clients need security?”
There was a silent, pregnant pause.
“We’re a full-service agency,” Jillian Larsen said smoothly. “We offer whatever our clients need.” The slight hesitation before she answered tugged at him, but they had bigger things to worry about.
“If we’re all here,” Alex clipped out. “Let’s get started.”
He strode down the hall to the judge’s bedroom and rapped sharply on the mahogany paneled door.
The judge exited his room. His smarmy, nearly sleazy mask was firmly back in place.
Alex wanted to knock it askew and dig into what was beneath that slick exterior. The man was a federal judge, for fuck’s sake. He had to be intelligent and wily and able to analyze situations for maximum potential and minimum risk. Not to mention Bobby Adams sat the bench for federal criminal cases, which meant he was fully versed with people who lied to save their own skin.
Dwayne had released Kita and she was smoothing down her hair. Her tumbled look sent Alex’s thoughts straight where they shouldn’t.
Her in that bed. The lacy black lingerie she’d worn beneath that stunning jade dress. And Jesus, she’d almost died, he needed to get over that.
“My dear.” The judge sauntered to Kita’s side and took her delicate hand in his. “Thank you. I’m so glad you will recover.”