Breathless

by Nancy Warren

  Oh, Lord. Not now. Not when she needed her wits about her. She needed a point to focus on, a paper bag to breathe into. Her vision was blurring and she felt light-headed with dizziness.

  She was down to two choices—stick her head between her legs, or faint.

  The woman whispered in her boyfriend’s ear and pointed at Sophie.

  19

  BLAKE CURSED.

  Not for the first time this evening.

  He’d radio’d the Emergency Response Team to be on ready alert the minute he’d seen the dark blue sedan cruise into the parking lot. From his vantage point inside the dirt-encrusted econo-van at the edge of the parking lot, he’d waited to see what sleazebag would emerge.

  When he saw Sophie he’d damn near stopped breathing. So had she from the wide-eyed stunned expression on her face.

  Then Ellsworth emerged behind her and grabbed her arm, and he’d had to quell an urge to march over there and take the slick loser apart.

  How had Sophie managed to get herself in the middle of a takedown?

  He had to stay calm and push his emotions out of the way if he wanted to keep everything safe and easy. He should have known it would blow up in his face when everything had gone so smoothly. Everything from the snitch’s info checking out to the ease with which they’d been able to get into place without raising the alarm.

  His radio crackled. “Isn’t that the woman who—”

  “Yeah.” He cut John off before any more details emerged. “Sophie Morton. Possible hostage.” He waited a beat, but the cop couldn’t compete with the man. “Sophie’s my…my…” He didn’t know what to say. Friend didn’t come close, though he realized how much she had become his friend in the time they’d spent together. Girlfriend was way too high school. If there was a word for what Sophie was to him, he didn’t know it. So he simply said, “Sophie’s mine. I don’t care what you have to do or not do, her safety comes first. Everybody read?”

  Detectives Chui and Ling were inside the restaurant, posing as customers. But Li and his bunch were in a back room behind two reinforced doors and now Sophie was being led inside. Sixteen ERT guys were standing by for his signal and he knew the time had come. He wasn’t a religious man, but he prayed silently for Sophie’s safety.

  “Go,” he said into his headset, and jumped out the back of the van.

  Four went, as prearranged, to evacuate the restaurant. The remaining men moved like dark shadows in their black jumpsuits, bulky with bulletproof vests, headed for the back door. They got through that one easily enough, but had to set explosives to blow out the second door.

  As soon as it blew, they charged in, MP5 submachine guns at the ready. He heard a woman’s scream. “Everybody down on the floor!” somebody yelled.

  Blake ran in with them, his own weapon drawn. Sophie, he had to get to Sophie.

  At first all he saw was confusion. Gang members forced to the floor and handcuffed, dust and smoke from the explosion. A gun went off.

  “Sophie, get down!” he yelled, though he couldn’t even see her.

  He called her name, and again, trying to be heard above the noise and confusion. To his left a woman was weeping, men were shouting and arguing, the police were yelling.

  Someone called his name but he couldn’t answer.

  Sophie. What if he’d lost her? But he couldn’t have. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her he loved her. Hadn’t known until tonight.

  Fate couldn’t be so cruel as to give him love and then take it away in the same evening.

  “Sophie,” he yelled again as he caught sight at last of her blond curls.

  “Blake.” She raised her head and his relief that she was alive turned to deadly fear. Her blouse was covered in blood.

  He felt the tears and didn’t do a damn thing to stop them. Didn’t care. If he could show her how much he cared maybe he could keep her with him.

  He dropped to his knees, grabbing her to him. “Hang on, baby. We’ll get an ambulance. I love you. It’s going to be okay. I love you.”

  “Oh, Blake. I love you, too.”

  “Shh,” he said, when she wiped at a tear on his cheek. “Don’t talk. We’ll get help.”

  She smiled through her own tears. “I’m not hurt.”

  “That’s good,” he soothed her, recognizing the signs of shock.

  He turned and yelled, “Need a paramedic here!”

  He turned back to Sophie, still smiling at him mistily. “Where did the knife hit? Do you know?”

  “His neck.” She gestured behind her and only then did he see Ellsworth lying on the floor, bleeding from his neck. She went back to pressing her hands against Ellsworth’s wound to stanch the blood.

  A paramedic arrived and Blake and Sophie stood and moved away to make room for him.

  While she hovered over the wounded man, Blake took a moment to get back to his responsibilities. A quick scan of the room showed it was all under control. Li stared up at him from the ground, hatred gleaming from his eyes and he swore viciously when he recognized Blake.

  “That’s Li,” Blake said to John, pointing to the gang leader. “Anybody get away?”

  “No.”

  “Anybody hurt?”

  “Just Sophie’s friend over there.”

  Blake blew out a breath of relief.

  Tomorrow they would need him. Tonight, his partner had stepped seamlessly into command. Already, order was being restored.

  Stepping back to Sophie’s side, he heard her ask the paramedic who was bandaging Ellsworth neck, “Will he be all right?”

  “I think so. You probably saved his life.”

  A second paramedic handed her a disinfectant cloth and she wiped her hands, looking bemused. This wasn’t her scene. She’d been amazing, but he needed to get her out of here.

  “Come on,” he said softly, putting an arm around her and walking over to John. “I’m taking Sophie home. Can you take it from here?”

  A slow smile lit John’s face and he stuck out his hand. “Looks like we did it.”

  Blake shook his partner’s hand with feeling. “Damn right, we did it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  John let his gaze flick back and forth between them. “Don’t be in too early.”

  “I’ve got a vehicle a few blocks away,” Blake told her as they emerged into the comparatively quiet street. “Can you make it?”

  She glanced down at her blood-soaked blouse and shivered. “Yes. I can make it.”

  “Come on.” He led her to the van and knocked on the back door, identifying himself.

  “Wow!” she said when he’d helped her inside. She glanced at the telescope and camera equipment and the two guys in there, one watching the parking lot, the other on the radio.

  Blake found her a spare VPD sweatshirt, and they turned their backs while she changed. He pushed her stained blouse into an evidence bag and they were on their way, walking hand in hand through the darkening streets.

  They didn’t speak at first. He didn’t know what to say and the moment felt so perfect he didn’t want to break it.

  “Did you mean it when you said you love me?” she asked softly.

  “Yeah.”

  “You cried.” It embarrassed the hell out of him that he’d blubbered like a baby in public, but her sigh was so blissful, he assumed she liked sensitive crying types. Figured.

  “I don’t make a habit of it,” he warned her. “And I’d appreciate it if it didn’t get around.”

  She chuckled and reached up to touch his cheek. Somehow, he couldn’t look at her glowing face, read the promises of love and the future there, and not kiss her.

  And somehow, it went from a light kiss to a deep, soul-stirring one. He raised his head and panted, “I’ve got to get you home and in my bed. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and they ran the rest of the way to the car.

  He pulled away from the curb, suddenly not wanting to waste a minute of their future. “How do you feel about marriage?”

  “In general or specific te
rms?”

  He glared. “In you and me terms.”

  “I think I could be convinced.”

  “I promise to make you as happy as I know how,” he said, using all his willpower not to give in to the urge to floor the gas pedal. The need to make love to Sophie, his wife-to-be, was pounding in his blood.

  “I think you took a wrong turn.” Her voice broke into his fantasy of exactly what he was going to do to her once he had her naked in his bed.

  “Hmm?” He pulled his mind out of his Jockeys and realized she was right.

  Then his jaw dropped and he turned to see a mirroring expression of amazement on her face. “I thought you couldn’t tell left from right.”

  She threw back her head and laughed, blond curls bouncing like giggles. “I must have a pretty good sense of direction. It led me straight to you.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8119-0

  BREATHLESS

  Copyright © 2002 by Nancy Warren.

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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