by Lara Lacombe
The doctor was watching him, clearly expecting an answer. “It’s complicated,” he said, not knowing what else to say. How could he explain the situation to a relative stranger when he couldn’t even explain it to himself?
“It usually is,” she replied, the ghost of a smile flitting across her face. “You’ve both had a crappy night, and I imagine you’re short on sleep. Will you be staying with her tonight?”
He nodded. No way was he going to let her out of his sight. Besides, they were both supposed to be dead, so he couldn’t very well go gallivanting around town.
“I’ll try to get her a bigger room so we can roll a cot in alongside the bed.”
James shook his head. “No need. I can’t sleep anyway. Save it for someone who can use it.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” A shrill beep had her reaching for the waistband of her scrubs. She read the number with a frown, then reattached her pager to its holster. “Gotta run. I’ll start on that paperwork when I get a minute.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
She sent him a distracted wave as she rushed off down the hall, leaving him standing alone in the doorway. Time to get back to Kelly. He’d been gone for too long, and even though it was unlikely she was in danger here in the emergency room, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone. He still had some calls to make, but he could do that from the room.
First, though, he had to talk to her about the shooting. She had deliberately ignored his instructions tonight, putting them both in harm’s way. He had to make her understand that when he told her to do something, it was for her safety and she needed to listen to him. But how? She clearly wasn’t in the mood to hear him out, and he didn’t want the conversation to devolve into another argument.
With a deep sigh, he began the walk back to her room, mentally practicing his speech as he moved down the hall. He was just going to come right out and say it, no beating around the bush. She generally appreciated honesty, and he was going to give it to her. If she didn’t like it, too bad. He wasn’t a fan of getting shot, so they were even.
“Kelly, we need to talk.” He stepped into the room, the words sticking in his throat as he drew up short at the sight that greeted him.
Kelly lay back in the bed, her hair spread out in a reddish halo on the pillow. Her face was pale but relaxed, her lips parted slightly, as though she was inviting a kiss. Her chest rose and fell in an even cadence under the starched white sheet, the only movement in the otherwise still room.
She made quite a picture, all delicate lines and muted colors. He rubbed at his chest, where a curious warmth had blossomed. Seeing her like this, with her guard down and looking vulnerable, reminded him of how things used to be between them. Back when his heart didn’t ache every time he was around her, and she didn’t look at him as if he’d just kicked her puppy. He wanted to get back to that place with her, but it seemed as if for every step forward, they took two steps back.
Today was a perfect example. They’d shared a moment this morning, at her work. But he’d said or done something to push her away, and admitting he didn’t fully trust her had only made things worse. Now they were both injured, and he knew things were about to get a lot more complicated.
He walked over to the chair with quiet, careful steps, then gingerly settled onto the seat. She needed her rest tonight. Tomorrow and its tough conversations would come soon enough.
He could wait.
* * *
Kelly wasn’t sure what woke her.
She didn’t even know she had fallen asleep, as she’d had no dreams to mark the time. She opened her eyes to find a room, dark and unfamiliar, with long shadows reaching across the floor to grab at her toes. She shifted, trying to sit up so she could get a better view of things, only to gasp as a burning spike of pain shot down her arm.
Her shoulder. That was right. She’d been shot. Was she still in the hospital? Why would they keep her there overnight, when the doctor had told her she was fine?
There was a soft rustling beside the bed, and she turned to see a shadowy figure sitting in the chair, his face hidden from view. She jerked away with a strangled cry, her heart kicking into a frantic rhythm.
The figure moved, reaching out to lay a warm hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Kelly.” James spoke quietly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.
“James,” she breathed. “You scared me. For a second there I thought—”
“I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you were going to go back to sleep.”
“My shoulder hurts too much for that right now.” She groped for the button to raise the head of the bed, pushing herself up into a sitting position to better talk to James. Being flat in the bed next to him felt too intimate.
“Should I turn on the light?”
“No. Dark is better.” She didn’t want him to see her like this. While the doctor had done a good job of cleaning her shoulder, she could feel a crust of dried blood on her neck and chest and could only imagine how scary she looked.
“How long have you been here?” He shifted in the chair as if he was uncomfortable, but since hospital chairs were not designed for comfort, that didn’t tell her anything.
“Not long,” he said softly. He looked up, but the dim light from the streetlamp outside her window didn’t provide enough illumination for her to see his face. “I thought it would be better if we stayed here overnight.”
“Because he’s still out there?”
“Yes.”
“And you think he’s still a threat.”
James didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. Kelly wasn’t stupid. She was no tactical expert, but a hospital was a busy place—lots of witnesses and even the odd guard or police officer roaming around. It would be harder to attack someone in a building that never slept. Still, knowing that James thought they were in danger sent a chill through her body. She wanted to curl up in a ball and shut the world out, but she knew that wasn’t an option.
“Did you get a good look at the shooter?”
James shook his head, confirming her suspicions. “He was already gone by the time I entered the apartment. Out your bedroom window and down the fire escape. We’re dusting for prints, but...” He didn’t have to finish. The man had probably worn gloves, and even if he hadn’t, who knew how many layers of fingerprints were on the fire escape?
“Do you think it was Caleb?”
Another head shake. “Could be, but I doubt it. Based on what we know about him, he usually hires this kind of thing out. He went after you at the office today because you were right there in front of him, but he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.”
Wonderful. More people after her. She absently fingered the edge of the gauze bandage on her shoulder. She’d been lucky tonight but probably wouldn’t fare as well during a second encounter.
James caught her gesture and cleared his throat. “I don’t think he meant to shoot you,” he said quietly. “I think he was aiming for me.”
“What makes you say that?” His head was down again, and she watched him run a hand through his hair.
“It makes no sense for them to shoot you. You can’t help them if you’re injured or dead.” He sat up in the chair, and the dim light filtered through his mussed hair. “Me, on the other hand, they don’t care about. If I’m out of the picture, you’re easier to take.”
“But how did they know you’d be with me?”
“They probably didn’t. I’m thinking the guy was going to use the gun to make sure you cooperated this time. But then he heard us talking in the hall outside your door, and he changed his plans.”
“Shoot first—ask questions later?”
“Something like that.”
“So it’s probably a good thing I walked in first.” She tried to keep her voice neutral, but a note of self-righteous smugness crept in. “If you’d gone in first, you’d have walked right into a bullet.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. I would have entered
the room using a tactical approach, something I wanted to do before you butted in and got yourself shot.” His hand tightened on her arm before he released her to lean back in the chair. “If you had just listened to me, none of this would have happened.”
“Oh, so this whole thing is my fault?”
“Yes! You could have gotten killed tonight! Do you realize that?” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking his anger. Kelly was glad it was dark so she couldn’t see his face. It was easier to be brave in the dark.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a jerk, I would have listened to you.” She heard the pout in her voice but didn’t care. She was too tired and in too much pain to be diplomatic about things.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I am so tired of being treated like crap by you. Even though I was attacked yesterday morning, you made it clear that you don’t trust me. What else do I have to do to prove I’m not involved in this?”
“That’s not what this is about.”
She gritted her teeth. He was so damn calm, which made her want to scream. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “You expect me to just fall in line when you bark out an order. Well, guess what? I’m not a child—I’m a grown woman, and I can take care of myself.”
“All evidence to the contrary,” he muttered.
“Listen, I’m not going to play some damsel in distress to feed your knight-errant complex—”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do. I—”
The words stuck in her throat as he suddenly loomed over her, big and warm and dangerous. His hands landed on either side of her head, bracketing her body and effectively trapping her in the bed without actually touching her.
She fought the urge to panic, her muscles tensing up as she instinctively prepared to defend herself. He won’t hurt me, she repeated silently, hoping it was true.
He raised a hand and she flinched, sucking in a breath. He paused, then gently pushed back a strand of hair from her forehead. She could feel his gaze on her, studying her, watching her, but she refused to meet his eyes. Even in the dim moonlight, she was certain he’d be able to see her fear.
“I’m bigger than you,” he whispered, his breath warm as it drifted over her cheek. “And stronger.” His fingertips traced down the line of her arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “It’s my job to protect you, using my body if I have to.” He found her hand and lifted it up to press against his chest. His heartbeat was a steady, comforting rhythm in her palm, and she felt her muscles begin to relax. “This has nothing to do with your abilities, or whether or not I trust you, or with some knight-in-shining-armor thing. When I tell you to get behind me, it’s because I know there’s danger ahead and I want to keep you as far away from it as possible. It’s as simple as that.”
Kelly swallowed around the lump in her throat as a flock of butterflies took up residence in her stomach. Slowly, so slowly, hardly daring to breathe, she let her eyes drift over until she met his stare.
His eyes were twin pools of darkness, their normal golden brown appearing silvery-gray in the shaft of moonlight that fell across his face. Still, there was no way to miss the intensity of his stare or the emotional currents swirling underneath his apparent stillness.
Did he care about her? Could he? After everything that had happened, maybe he still harbored some feelings for her. Maybe he didn’t hate her after all. The thought made her heart swell with hope, only to crash back down to earth a second later. Maybe she was wrong, and he was willing to sacrifice his body to keep all his charges safe.
But...the spark of hope flared back to life as a new thought occurred to her. He had held her earlier, and he was practically on top of her now. Surely he wouldn’t do those things if he felt nothing for her. Surely he wouldn’t throw himself in front of danger for just anyone. Right?
Only one way to find out.
“James,” she whispered. His hand fell away, but she kept her palm pressed to his heart, which had started beating faster. She wanted to take her other hand and cup his face, but she couldn’t move it. She settled for tipping her head forward the barest inch instead.
“James,” she said again, his name both a plea and a question.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he ducked his head, bringing his mouth closer to hers.
Kelly closed her eyes, parting her lips slightly in anticipation. Her skin tingled where he had touched her; waves of sensation spread over her as she waited for his kiss.
There was the barest flutter across her lips, soft as the caress of a butterfly wing. She leaned forward, wanting to trap this feeling, to prolong the contact between them, but she met empty air.
Confused, she opened her eyes to see James standing over the bed, looking down at her with a troubled expression.
“James?” she asked, unsure of what to say. Why had he pulled away?
He didn’t respond, but as she looked up at him, she could see him rebuilding his defenses, brick by brick, until his expression was once again that of the professional, detached agent.
“You should go back to sleep,” he said, his rough voice the only indication he’d been flustered just a moment ago.
“I’m not tired,” she said softly.
He ignored her. “I’ll call the nurse, get you another dose of pain meds.”
She sighed, knowing a lost cause when she saw one. “Don’t you need any? You were shot, too.”
“I’m fine.”
“How is that possible? You have a huge wound along the side of your body—that’s got to hurt.”
“It’s only a flesh wound. I’ve had worse.”
She snorted, which had him lifting an eyebrow. “You sound like you should be in a Terminator movie or something.”
Was that a smile playing at the corner of his mouth? “You need to rest, and you can’t do it in pain. I’ll be right back.”
He left the room, his steps quiet as he moved. Kelly leaned back against the pillow, pressing her fingers to her lips in a vain effort to re-create the feel of the gentle whisper of his kiss.
He’s still there, she thought, the realization making her almost giddy. The old James, her best friend and onetime lover, the man she cared about and had never really gotten over, was still inside this new, harder man. He seemed to be buried deep, but she’d seen a glimpse of him tonight and she wanted more.
It would take time, she knew, to earn his trust again. Time to break down the walls he’d erected to keep her out. But now that he knew for sure she wasn’t involved with Dr. Collins or the terrorist organization, she could work on repairing the damage to their relationship.
They’d shared something special before, something she had thrown away in a moment of fear and weakness. She didn’t know if the embers of their connection still burned inside him, but she knew she had to try to find out.
She wasn’t going to give him up so easily this time.
* * *
James watched Kelly sleep, taking a small measure of comfort from the even rise and fall of her chest. She slept soundly, telling him that her pain was under control, at least for the moment.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shifting in a vain attempt to find a comfortable position in the Naugahyde chair. Today had been one of the worst days of his life, both personally and professionally.
Carmichael had been livid after hearing that Kelly had been shot. He had blamed James for not taking the proper precautions, and James had had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that Carmichael hadn’t considered her to be a target. Truth be told, James thought Carmichael was more upset by the shooter’s escape than the fact that Kelly had been injured.
He stared at the white square on her shoulder, remembering the feel of her blood on his hands. He could have lost her tonight. Just a little bit lower, and the bullet would have hit an artery. He shuddered at the thought of her bleeding out under his hands, him powerless to stop it.
Bad eno
ugh that she had been injured on his watch. He didn’t think he’d ever forget that flash of fire, the thud of her hitting his chest. The look of shocked confusion on her face as she tried to process what was happening. His heart had skipped a few beats when he saw her lying in the hall, still and so very pale.
Much as he hated to admit it, she’d gotten under his skin again. After she had walked out, he’d worked hard to get over his disappointment, and he had grudgingly accepted that she wasn’t going to be a part of his life. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost someone important to him, and although it never got easier, he knew it was a part of life.
Now, after only two days of being around her again, his feelings were as fresh and as strong as ever. Not even his initial suspicions regarding her involvement had been enough to keep his heart from beating a little faster when he was around her. Now that he knew she was innocent, his feelings were threatening to overwhelm him.
He was in serious danger of letting his emotions control his behavior. He’d let his anger have free rein earlier, and he had scared Kelly without meaning to. He thought back to the way she’d flinched when he’d raised his hand, the memory of her reaction twisting his gut and filling him with shame. Did she honestly think he was capable of hurting her?
Kelly stirred, shifting positions with a sigh. A strand of hair had fallen across her forehead, and he moved to push it back behind her ear, his hand stalling just before he touched her. He needed to keep his hands off her. Bad enough that he had kissed her earlier. His fingers drifted across his lips, a poor substitute for the softness of her mouth. He had been so tempted to lean in and deepen the kiss, wanting nothing more than to gather her into his arms and pour all his confusion and frustration and relief into the contact. It had taken all his self-control to pull away. Some primal part of his brain had known that if he started something, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
While he wanted to feel her under him again, he wasn’t about to scratch that itch in a hospital bed. Especially not when things were still so murky between them. Better to keep things on a professional level, for everyone.