Wounded Heroes Boxed Set

by Judith Arnold

  He chuckled. "If that’s what it takes to get your attention, I’ll consider it." He resisted the urge to run a finger under his collar. Damn tie was choking him long before she stole his breath.

  She laughed softly. Genuinely. "You do just fine without one."

  "Miss Sawyer?" The studio’s security guard came toward them. "Your car is here."

  "Thank you, Joey." She turned to follow.

  "Lorie," Quinn spoke up, caution returning. She gazed up into his eyes and he could see her slipping away, the fear reappearing. "I’ll be right with you, every moment. Even when you win, I’ll be close as your shadow."

  "Will I win?"

  "I’d make book on it."

  She grinned mischievously. "Have you ever even seen the show, Quinn?"

  "Well, uh, not—"

  Still grinning, she placed one hand on his arm. "Then thanks for your faith. I don’t mind admitting I’m nervous."

  He slid his arm around her slender waist, wishing he could kiss her. Hell, wishing he could take her somewhere deserted, someplace where they could be alone for a long, sweet time. He’d like to look at her in that outfit for about forever, then take it off her, a layer at a time.

  Even knowing it was the last thing she needed, he couldn’t help wishing. Suddenly, the vision of her arising from the makeup chair the other day popped into his head, mingling with earlier tonight. Oh, Christ, he thought. If she has stockings and a garter belt under this outfit…

  Quinn almost groaned aloud. He tightened his grasp on her waist. "Come on—get me out of here before I lose every last scrap of sense."

  Her chuckle warmed him as he escorted her down the hall.

  In the limo, he turned to her. "Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go in the back way?"

  She gripped his hand tighter as she shook her head. "Yes, but I can’t. I owe it to my fans to be there to greet them."

  "But the press will be there, too, you know that."

  He could see her fear flare up. He’d do his damnedest to shield her from the onslaught of attention, but the odds were stacked against him. Bitter anguish swept through him—would he never be able to save her from the worst?

  "Quinn, I know you want to protect me from this. Believe me, I’m not nearly so afraid because I know you’re right here. If you weren’t…" Her gaze shifted away for a second. "I don’t know what I would have done without you. If you hadn’t come for me…if you hadn’t understood what I was going through…" Her eyes swam with tears, threatening to drop on her beautiful makeup job. She gripped his hand more tightly with both of hers. "I’ll never—"

  "Here now…we’d better not ruin this makeup job or Lola will be pushed over the edge." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed very gently at her tears. He smiled as his heart broke, weighted down by his longing to wipe all the sorrow and the pain from her mind.

  Lorie cradled his jaw with one gloved hand, and he leaned into the caress. Then she visibly drew herself up, squeezed his hand one more time, and turned straight ahead in her seat. He could feel her mentally retreating.

  As the limo drew up to the curb, he could see the mob ahead, cameras flashing everywhere, TV trucks nearby, arms waving as the crowd greeted each new arrival. Before the door opened, Quinn turned one last time and smiled his most confident smile at her, silently vowing to wreak havoc upon anyone who hurt her.

  ***

  AS QUINN’S BROAD back preceded her out of the limo, the noise of the crowd rolled over Lorie like a wave, and she knew a moment of terrible fear that she would not be able to make it through this experience without losing it.

  But almost instantly, his strong hand grasped hers and squeezed as he drew her forward.

  And she could breathe again.

  She stepped out of the car to a roar that quickly escalated to an avalanche of sound. She wanted to cover her ears and cower into Quinn’s side. She took an involuntary step back.

  His arm wrapped her. Steadied her.

  Showtime .

  They’d only taken a step when several microphones were shoved in her face.

  "Lorie, how badly did he hurt you?"

  "Lorie, are you afraid he’s still out there, looking for you?"

  "Over here, Lorie!"

  "Have you seen a shrink for this?"

  "Do you think you encouraged him?"

  Lorie froze her features into a smiling mask while she desperately wanted to run back to the car, to hide somewhere behind locked doors, to curl up into a ball and beg them to leave her alone.

  Quinn never faltered, clearing a path for her, all the while keeping one strong arm locked tight around her. She held onto that touch like a drowning man clutching a piece of driftwood while inside she felt herself beginning to fly apart.

  A young teenage girl reached over the ropes, a daisy in her hand, her pleading face catching Lorie’s attention. Lorie couldn’t hear what she said as the reporters continued to clamor behind her. The girl’s expression held such poignant concern that Lorie pulled back against Quinn to turn in her direction.

  "Lorie—"

  She could hear Quinn's worry even over the roar, but the girl's anguish tugged at her. Lorie moved toward her and took the daisy.

  "I got hurt by a man, too, Lorie. I know how you feel. You’re so pretty. Please be careful." Her tearful gray eyes held the shadows of great suffering, and Lorie wanted to help somehow.

  "Lorie, please." She could feel Quinn's agitation.

  Then a camera crew neared. She reached across the barricade to touch the girl's hand. "You take care, too. Thank you for being so brave."

  The girl’s eyes glowed with pleasure. "You’re my hero, Lorie."

  Lorie felt like anything but a hero, but this girl’s quiet courage shamed her. I cannot let him destroy my life. Where’s your courage, Lorie Chandler?

  With one last smile to the girl, she defiantly turned back to the crowd, throwing out kisses with both arms flung wide. A roar of approval greeted her gesture.

  She turned back to see Quinn standing right beside her, a warm light glowing in his eyes. She smiled up at him, and the noise of the crowd receded as they gazed at one another.

  Quinn drew her close and led her into the building. His strength solid and sure, this man who’d saved her life brought her within his magic circle once again.

  ***

  KNIFE.

  Click-click.

  Lights. Noise. Faces.

  Click-click-click.

  Blond hair…dark hair…

  Knife arcing down, blade point plunge…

  Blood. So much blood.

  "QUINN?"

  He blinked.

  Josh was staring at him. Are you all right? he mouthed.

  For a second, Quinn couldn't think. He shook his head to clear it. Nodded fast as Josh started to rise.

  I'm fine , he said across the table.

  But he was anything but.

  Never before had he had a vision while awake.

  He was here. Quinn could feel it. He scanned the audience, looking for anything suspicious. Lorie's stalker was cagey—he took photos of others all the time, but finding one of him had proven difficult for Colello. No drivers license, no other photo ID he could track down. Quinn himself had only glimpsed the man's back as he sliced at Lorie's clothes and caught only the briefest look at the man's face as he ran for the window through which he'd escaped.

  So he was looking hard, but he wasn't positive who he was looking for.

  The odd prickling on the back of his neck wouldn't go away. As the next award was being announced, he glanced carefully around them, keeping his expression bored and casual.

  He’d never sensed anything so strongly while awake.

  This felt different. In the past, he’d experienced a strong sense of danger facing others—Clarissa, Lorie, Grant.

  This was a blast of dark hatred…and it felt as though it was aimed at him.

  Good. Come on, asshole. Take a shot at me. You’re gonna have to come
through me to get her .

  He wanted a shot at this guy. Bad. Thundering fury seared through him, the taste for vengeance he hadn’t been able to indulge coming alive in his heart.

  "Quinn?" Lorie touched his arm, concern on her face.

  Instantly, he relaxed his features and put on a smile. "Getting nervous? No need to. I’ve checked out the whole room. No competition."

  Josh grinned from across the table. "Am I gonna have to separate you two so you don’t talk during class?"

  Lorie's smile was real this time. "I should have known if one Marshall wasn’t getting me in trouble, the other one would be."

  Ben Watkins put a finger to his lips. "Sh-h, you two. Lorie’s award is up next."

  Quinn felt Lorie tense and entwined her fingers with his. She turned back and cast a grateful look.

  As she gazed solemnly at him, he regretted, yet again, that he could never be right for her. He'd shown up at a good time, and he was glad for it, but sooner or later, she’d be recovered and would have no need for an ex-cop with a broken mind.

  But when worry once again stole over her features, he squeezed her fingers, smiled and forced his attention toward the stage.

  ***

  AS THE PRESENTER approached the microphone, Lorie dragged her gaze from Quinn's face. His worry for her was taking its toll, and she regretted that—but oh, how much worse all of this could have been if he hadn't been in New York. If she’d had to live through the horror without him.

  Startled to think she’d known this man less than a week, Lorie tried to imagine how she’d feel when he left, as he inevitably would. A dull ache in her heart told her the answer.

  Could she leave all this and go back with him, as he wanted? She’d worked so hard to get her life under control—and Grant’s welfare had to be her first priority. She’d deferred to Tom far too often, and the price of being cared for had been high. She’d never let herself be that dependent again, but what else could she do in the far reaches of Texas? She had no other skills.

  Her work was as much a financial necessity as it was a part of her. For whatever time she could milk her looks and her abilities, she owed it to her child to make his future as secure as possible. The burning light of her ambition was no longer reason enough.

  And the first course in assuring his welfare was to convince Quinn to take him back to Texas until this nightmare ended, no matter how terrified she was to let Quinn leave, regardless of how much it would hurt to let Grant go so far away. He would be safe with Quinn. And Quinn would be safe, too.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard her name called in the list of nominees, and nerves took over. She smiled because she knew the camera was on her, but she clung to Quinn’s hand as the only thing solid in her world.

  Then suddenly Josh jumped to his feet, cheering and shouting an exultant "Yes!" Around the table faces beamed. Ben’s face held amused indulgence and pride. She couldn't quite register that she'd won until Quinn lifted her to her feet as the roar swelled around her.

  Stunned, she sought his face, seeing pride mingle with his concern as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear. The topaz glow of his eyes warmed and thrilled her as he turned her toward the stage.

  "I’ll be close, sweetheart. Go on now—you've earned this."

  She wanted to clutch at his hand again. To steal into his arms and stay safe.

  But Josh was there, lifting her off her feet in a big hug, grinning from ear to ear. "I knew it!" he crowed. "You’re the best, short stuff."

  The reality began to sink in, a warm glow of anticipation spreading through her veins.

  I did it!

  Somehow she made her way to the podium, another surge of applause rolling over her when she accepted her award. As she stood there, waiting for the crowd to quiet, she felt the prick of tears. These were her peers and her fans, and tonight, they loved her.

  But there was a feeling of something missing, a curious hollowness that surprised her. Looking around, she tried to figure out what it was.

  When she spotted Quinn near the stage, his brilliant white smile shining out from his golden skin, she suddenly knew.

  "Lorie?" prompted the presenter.

  She clutched at her statuette and used a thumb to stifle the tears threatening to drop. "I…thank you, oh my, thank you so very much. I’m…this is unbelievable."

  "Go, Lorie!" a voice screamed from the balcony.

  She smiled, and the crowd tittered.

  "I, um, I can’t begin to say you how much this means after.." The silence deepened. She cleared her throat. "There are a lot of people I need to thank, and I’m afraid I’ll forget someone important, but here goes." She smiled at her table. "To my fellow cast members, to the crew and producers of Legends of Love, you know you share in the credit for this," she said, raising her award. "We’re all in it together, and I love you like my family."

  "To my beloved son, Grant, who’s been my reason for living for the past year. I love you, sweetie."

  She paused, taking a deep breath so she could continue, then she glanced toward the wings. "To Quinn Marshall, who saved my life, both literally and figuratively." Tears poured down her cheeks as she gave him a long look before turning toward the audience. "And to a young girl standing outside who handed me a daisy and told me I was her hero."

  The silence pulsed with emotion.

  "I’m no hero. What happened was terrifying. But I want to tell every woman out there who’s been victimized by a man—don't stay a victim. Don't let him win. Stand up and be proud of yourself. And remember, most men are not like that. There are good men out there, lots of them." She looked over at Quinn, then turned back to face them. "Believe in yourselves. Thank you all very, very much."

  As the audience stood to applaud her, she saw Josh’s million-dollar smile and Ben wiping his eyes. She raised her statuette and blew the audience a kiss, then, on shaky legs, she walked toward the wings where Quinn waited.

  Chapter Twelve

  * * *

  THE PRESS OF people shoving and pushing to get close to Lorie drove Quinn close to snarling and snapping like some rabid wolf. He clenched his teeth so tightly his jaw ached, aware that this was her moment of glory, her hour to shine. Little enough compensation for all that she’d suffered.

  Not that Quinn wasn’t happy for her, truly thrilled that she’d won. If the damned prickling uneasiness would cease, he’d be able to relax a little.

  But that bastard was here, somewhere.

  As the area backstage grew more crowded with people wanting to congratulate Lorie, Quinn’s agitation increased in proportion, but he didn’t have the heart to take this away. She sparkled. The animation he'd seen that first day on the set had reappeared fully, at least for now. Reluctant to rob her of a minute of this pleasure, he contented himself with moving next to her, scanning the crowd over and over. His height made the process easier, but he cursed his lack of a clear impression of the guy’s face.

  As for Lorie, even if she weren't aware of the curious glances of the people around her, she would have known Quinn stood behind her. She could feel not just his height and size but the sense of safety that washed over her, and she gave herself the luxury of leaning back for just a moment.

  When his hands clasped her waist, every nerve ending flared to life. She glanced up at him and couldn’t help feeling a subtle thrill at the glower of protectiveness on his face.

  As if he sensed her looking, he glanced down, and his eyes locked on hers.

  The room fell away. The euphoria of winning combined with the electric charge between them to zoom her spirits to dizzying heights. For a moment, she hung there, miles above earth, suspended with dark, handsome Quinn in the glory of his starlit skies. She found herself turning instinctively into his embrace when she heard the unmistakable sound of Josh’s voice.

  "Where’s my beautiful partner in crime?" he demanded, sounding not at all peeved that he himself hadn’t won.

  The corners of Quinn’s eyes crink
led with regret and amusement. She chose to read promises for the future in their amber depths. With a sigh, she turned away, just in time to be swooped up in Josh’s bear hug. He whirled her around in circles.

  "I’m sorry you didn’t win, Josh," she began.

  "Aah, don’t worry about it—there's always next year. Grant will just have to get the playgroup moms organized, won’t he?" Josh’s smile was not forced; he seemed genuinely pleased for her. She laughed at his irrepressible good humor, and he laughed with her, whirling her faster.

  "Good Lord, you two, they can’t even hear the next award, you’re making so much noise," Ben Watkins grumbled. "Come on back to the lounge and leave the poor nervous ones out there in peace."

  His beaming face told a different story altogether.

  Josh set her down, grabbed her hand and carted her away.

  She stopped for just a moment to look back toward Quinn.

  He sent her off with a smile.

  ***

  HE DIDN'T BELONG with that group, so he would take advantage of Josh's presence beside her to look around a bit, though not for long. He had no intention of being out of reach.

  As he surveyed the area, Quinn scanned the nooks and crannies where someone could hide. The warning prickle hadn't abated. The creep was somewhere nearby. As he surveyed an unlocked storage room, a shadow blocked the door. He tensed and whirled to face the intruder.

  "Sir, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave this area," the young security guard said, hand resting lightly on his weapon.

  Quinn turned his hands, palms out, as he walked to the door. "It’s okay, I’m just looking around."

  The guard narrowed his gaze and took a step back. "Well, sir, you’d better go on back to your group or I’ll have to escort you off the premises."

  How to explain a prickling warning to a fresh-faced kid working for barely above minimum wage? Quinn decided not to try, just smiled his most reassuring smile and turned toward the award-winners’ lounge, hoping the nervous kid would keep his weapon in his holster.