by Leah Brooke
Ian’s gaze narrowed. “As long as I can trust you to tell me the truth.”
Pursing her lips, she bit back a smile when his eyes narrowed even more. “I hate when you’re mad at me.”
“And I hate it when you’re in danger.”
Holding his gaze, she bent her head to touch her lips to his chest. “I know. I messed up. I just want to help.”
Sliding a hand into her hair, Ian smiled faintly. “You know, Alastair and I got along fine dealing with our assignments on our own.”
Arching into his caress, Serena ran her hand over his chest, loving the feel of warm muscle beneath her palm. “I just want to help. You and Alastair have done so much for me.”
Ian’s eyes hardened. “You don’t owe us anything.”
“I love getting involved. It makes me feel good.” She touched her lips to his in the lightest of kisses. “I love feeling useful.” Hoping to tease him out of his mood, she snuggled closed, brushing her lips over his jaw. “I’ll tell you what, anytime you want to paint, I’ll let you use my paints and brushes.”
Ian slapped her ass, making her yelp. “Smartass.” His hand moved over her bottom as he looked back at the screen, reaching for the remote. “Pay attention. See if you can tell what Jonathan’s thinking.”
“He’s here to check me out. He’s going to ask to see me.” When Ian stiffened, she blew out a breath at the question in his eyes. Gripping her chin, he lifted her face to his, his eyes sharp. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
Lifting her hand to his forearm, she smiled. “Do you remember the night we met at my cousin’s reception?”
Ian’s eyes softened, his smile holding an intimacy that sent a surge of warmth through her. “I’ll never forget it. When I looked across the ballroom and saw you, I almost swallowed my tongue. I wanted you so badly, I actually thought about throwing you over my shoulder and dragging you home.”
Laughing at the mental image, Serena turned her head to kiss his palm. “You practically did. You didn’t throw me over your shoulder, but you kidnapped me.”
“Indeed I did. I didn’t take you to bed that night the way I wanted to. Instead, I sat there wanting you and hating the effect you had on me.”
“Ditto, darling.”
She started to turn away to be dressed and ready to go downstairs when Alastair came for her, sucking in a breath when Ian pulled her back. “Say that again.”
Confused, Serena frowned until she realized what he meant. Fascinated that such an unshakable and hard-nosed man could be so shaken when she was affectionate, she smiled and leaned forward to scrape her teeth over his earlobe. “Ditto, darling. I knew you would change my life. I’d already seen you in my dreams, but nothing could prepare me for the impact you’d have on me.”
Lifting her head, she smiled down at him. “My own golden God. When you crossed the room toward me, looking so determined, I got this tingly feeling all over.” Arching into his caress, she moaned. “I couldn’t wait for you to touch me. I never can.”
Ian’s eyes flashed, his firm lips curving into a rare intimate smile. “Good. Come here. I want you to tell me what Jonathan’s thinking.”
After placing another kiss on his chest, Serena turned back to look at the screen.
Jonathan Grimes was a tall, handsome man who exuded authority. He had a leanly muscular physique, sharp eyes, and a graceful walk that reminded her of Ian and Alastair.
His eyes were sharp, and even though he appeared to be focused on Alastair, she would bet that he noticed everything, and once he’d walked out the door, he would be able to give a detailed description of the room.
The gray at his temples gave him a distinguished look, a look emphasized by the black designer suit he wore.
Strolling across the room, he paused in front of the fireplace, and looked up at one of Serena’s paintings above it. “Would you like to explain Miss Abbott’s part in what played out tonight?”
Alastair shrugged and moved from behind the bar, crossing the room to hand the other man a drink. “She helped a little. That’s it. I told her what to say, and she went in to say it.”
“You’re involving her in your assignments. Interesting.”
Alastair lowered himself to the stuffed chair closest to the bar, brushing what Serena suspected to be an imaginary piece of lint from his dark trousers. “I’ve used people before, Jonathan. I’ve never heard any complaints from you before.”
Jonathan’s lips thinned. “You’ve never involved anyone to this extent before. You had to have told her something.”
“Just enough.” After taking a sip of his drink, Alastair raised a brow. “You planning to tell me how to do my job now?”
Serena held her breath, releasing it in a rush when Jonathan smiled and shook his head.
Turning to Ian, she gripped his hand. “If you lose your job over this, it’ll be my fault.”
Chuckling, Ian toppled her onto his chest. “Baby, we don’t need it. We did it because we were looking for adventure and something to ease the boredom. Party after party was boring.” Sliding a hand up her body, he cupped her breast. “With you in our lives, we’re no longer bored.” His eyes narrowed. “You’ve been too quiet. What’s Jonathan thinking?”
Realizing that she hadn’t heard any hint of Jonathan’s thoughts, she turned to frown at Ian. “I don’t hear a thing. I’m so used to Alastair blocking me that I didn’t even miss it. Are you blocking me?”
“Of course not.” After a second or two, he shook his head. “Neither is Alastair.”
Serena shrugged. “Maybe I’m just too far away. I only get bombarded when I’m closer, and this is a big house.” Turning back, she looked at the screen again. “Or maybe Jonathan’s just really good at protecting his thoughts.”
“Then how did you know he was coming?”
Hearing the tension in his voice, Serena turned to him, listening with half an ear to Jonathan tell Alastair about Tom Garner’s confession. “Just like you want to know how I knew about you if I couldn’t read your mind?”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. “Something like that. That night, I introduced myself as Alastair Wyndham, and you told me that I wasn’t Alastair. How could you have known that without reading my thoughts?”
Blowing out a breath, and once again struck by how tenuous her relationship was with Alastair and Ian, Serena rolled from the bed, pulling on her robe.
“I’ve been assuming that you really must have been broadcasting your thoughts, but it’s been happening more and more. It’s not exactly reading someone’s mind. It seems more and more like I’m having… premonitions. I knew your name was Ian because I had a dream that I made love with you. I called your name. I know why Jonathan’s here because I saw it, but not in my dreams. I’m starting to have visions when I’m awake. Premonitions.”
“Haven’t you had premonitions before?”
Pacing along the foot of the bed, she glanced at the screen as she passed it. “Yes, but not like this. These are sharp and clear and are coming more frequently. Before, it was only when I dreamed. When I was awake, I sometimes knew things, but everything was vague and a little unfocused.” Chilled, she wrapped her arms around herself and moved away from Ian again. “I knew Jean Paul would miss. He was too drunk and angry to shoot straight, and I don’t think he’s ever fired a weapon in his life.”
Nervous about his reaction, she drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t read your minds, but I can see things that you’re going to do or that are going to happen to you. And to me. Situations we might find ourselves in. Sometimes it’s just a look, a word or two. I promise to tell you if I can ever read your mind, Ian.”
Turning back, she lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely. “I know you don’t trust me, but I wouldn’t keep something like that from you.”
“You don’t mind if I talk to her, do you?”
Unsurprised by Jonathan’s request, Serena glanced at the screen on her way to the closet in time to see Alastair shrug
and get to his feet.
“Not at all. I’ll go get her.”
Jonathan smiled. “There’s a camera up there. Isn’t she watching?”
Ian cursed, but not the merest flicker of an eyelash betrayed Alastair’s surprise.
Getting to his feet, Alastair met Jonathan’s smile with one of his own. “There’s no need. Besides, she was taking a bath when I left her.”
Chapter Twelve
Dressed in the long dress Alastair had picked out, Serena made her way down the stairs with him.
The dress, made out of the softest material, felt like a warm hug, something she needed after her conversation with Ian.
“Jonathan sounded angry.”
“He is. He knows I’m lying to him, but there isn’t much he can do about it.”
“I thought Jonathan was your friend.”
“He’s the closest thing to a friend we have, but that doesn’t make us close.” At the bottom of the stairs, he bent to nuzzle her ear, keeping his voice low. “Only you’re close enough to know our secrets.”
Grinning, she wrapped an arm around his waist. “Yeah, but I figured all of that out on my own. You didn’t tell me anything.”
Smiling down at her, he patted her ass. “I’m an open book to you, darling. Now just relax. You can handle Jonathan, and I’ll be right there with you.”
* * * *
Jonathan proved to be more intimidating than she’d imagined, his eyes hard and cold as they met hers. “Serena Abbott. I’ve looked forward to meeting you.” Frowning when his phone rang, he turned away.
“Grimes. What? How long ago? Find him!”
Serena’s heart raced, her stomach knotting. She knew what was coming. She needed to warn Alastair, but she knew she couldn’t say anything out loud and risk Jonathan knowing about her.
She had to tell him.
Bracing herself, she watched Jonathan shove his phone back into his pocket and look up at Alastair, the storm in his eyes sending a chill down her spine.
Knowing disaster loomed only seconds away, Serena focused on Ian, alarmed to realize he was on his way toward them. Gripping Alastair, she mentally screamed at Ian. Ian, no! Don’t come down here! Oh God. I love you both so much. Alastair’s head’s spinning in all directions and he can’t hear me tell him I love him. Help him. He needs you.
She didn’t need to listen to Jonathan tell Alastair that Jean Paul had killed the cop holding him and escaped.
She already knew it.
Suddenly, everything happened at once.
Alastair stiffened and spun, his eyes wild as he reached for her, just as she threw herself at him, screaming at Jonathan to watch out.
The door burst open just as Alastair’s arms closed around her, the horror in his eyes telling her that he’d heard her shout to Ian.
Jonathan pulled a gun and spun toward the doorway, he and Jean Paul firing several shots simultaneously.
Alastair screamed in rage and whipped her around, throwing her on the floor, but it was too late.
The burn in her back and shoulder made itself known just as the dogs rushed past, the pain stealing her breath as their growls ripped through the air.
“Serena!” The horror in Alastair’s voice was echoed in Ian’s raw scream.
Grateful that she couldn’t see the dogs attack Jean Paul, she fought to keep her eyes open, wincing at Jonathan’s curse as he hit the floor, followed by his sharp command.
“Wyn! Get your dogs off before they kill him!”
Alastair’s white face made his eyes appear as dark as midnight as he turned to look toward the doorway before lifting his weight from her. “I don’t give a fuck if they do. Serena, talk to me.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over Jean Paul’s screams and the loud, menacing growls from all three dogs.
“Please!” She tried to call to the dogs but didn’t know if they heard her.
She felt so weak.
The storm and fear in Alastair’s eyes had her reaching for him, but she winced at the pain in her shoulder and started to drop her arm, only to have her hand enclosed in his. “The police w-will take them if they k-kill Jean Paul. Please call them off.” Panicked that she couldn’t seem to breathe, she tried to squeeze Alastair’s hand.
Alarmed that she couldn’t manage more than a whisper, she breathed a sigh of relief when he called the dogs off. “Thank you.” Although she knew her lips moved, no sound came out. She couldn’t draw a steady breath. Scared, and very afraid she was dying, she looked into his eyes. “I love you.” Her eyes closed, and no amount of effort could get them open again.
Desperate and terrified, she mentally reached for him, only to realize that his thoughts had already been consumed by so many other things at once.
His mind reeled with so many thoughts that it made her dizzy.
His horror that she’d been shot.
He already knew that Jean Paul was no longer a threat.
He’d counted the shots and knew the other man’s gun was empty.
He knew where the dogs were, ordering them to watch over Jean Paul to keep them from jumping on her.
He loved her, and was scared to death, thinking about so many things at once that her weak effort to connect with him failed.
I’m coming, baby. Don’t you dare die on me.
Ian!
* * * *
Frantic, Alastair screamed her name, pressing his fingers against her neck, his heart not beating until he found a pulse. “Serena! Damn it. Serena, talk to me, darling.”
Seeing the bloody smears he’d left behind, he lifted his hand, his heart in his throat when he saw that it was covered in blood. “No! No, damn it!”
Shaking everywhere, he prayed as he never had before, her too-pale features and lifeless body sending a surge of panic through him.
Unimaginable horror.
He’d been in tough situations many times in his life, but he’d never been so scared.
Easing her to her side, Alastair saw the two wounds, each bleeding profusely. “No. Oh, baby.” Struggling to keep the fear from his voice, he crooned to her. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. We’ll get you to the hospital and have you fixed up in no time. That’s it, sweetheart. You just rest. Let me take care of everything.”
He knew Ian was on his way down and couldn’t say that he blamed him.
If he was upstairs, he’d be frantic to get to her. Ian, no. I’ve got her. Serena was right. Don’t let Jonathan see you.
Fuck that!
I’ve got her, damn it! Don’t do it!
Not until Jonathan pulled himself closer did Alastair even realize that his boss had also been hit.
Groaning, Jonathan sat up, bracing his back against the chair. “How bad is it?”
“Bad.” He didn’t even want to think about how bad. Ian, please. Stay there.
Damn it! How bad?
As far as I can see, two bullets, one in the back and one in the shoulder. Bad.
“I’ve already called for a couple of ambulances.” Jonathan pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, cursing as he reached out to offer it to Alastair.
Alastair had already started stripping out of his shirt, glancing back to see that DuBois lay unmoving on the floor, all three dogs standing over him. Sparing his boss a glance, he saw that Jonathan was obviously in a lot of pain and almost as pale as Serena. “How bad are you hit?” Shaking in reaction, he ripped his shirt in half, alarmed by the amount of blood covering the back of Serena’s dress. Wadding one half of the material into a ball, he pressed it against the wound in her back, rolling her to her back again to put pressure on it.
Jonathan blew out a breath as he slid another clip into his gun. “Two in the leg. He shot as he was falling. It would have been a hell of a lot worse if Serena hadn’t warned me and given me a chance to pull my gun. I owe her a big one.” His gaze settled on Serena’s pale features. “She sure as hell reacted fast.” He lifted his gaze to Alastair’s, watching him as Alastair attempted to slow the bleeding. “Hell,
I’d better go see if he’s dead.”
A low moan coming from the doorway had Alastair turning again just as Jonathan lifted his gun and aimed it at DuBois. “I’ve got him.”
“Zeus, guard! Rip, King down.” Ian appeared at the bottom of the stairs and rushed to kneel at Serena’s side, grabbing the material out of Jonathan’s hands and pressing it against the wound in her shoulder. “Serena! If you fucking die on me, I’m paddling your ass good!”
Jonathan blinked at the sight of him, looking from Alastair to Ian and back again. “Well, that sure as hell explains a lot.”
Chapter Thirteen
Frowning at the constant beep, beep, beep, Serena groaned and struggled to open her eyes, but it proved too difficult. Feeling as if she was floating, she tried to close her hands in an effort to feel something solid.
“Serena!” Alastair’s voice, filled with relief, washed over her like a warm blanket as big, warm hands, hands she’d recognize anywhere, closed on each of hers.
“Hmm.” Something was wrong, but she was too tired to sort it out.
* * * *
Ian alternated between pacing back and forth and sitting next to Serena, holding her hand. “Explain to me again just how this bastard got away.”
Jonathan, who sat in a recliner with his leg propped up, finished texting a message before sticking his phone in his pocket. “Someone fucked up. Since DuBois was passed out when they found him, no one considered him a threat. They cuffed him and stuck him in the back of a police car to hold him until I could get to him. He woke up, kicked out the window and jumped out. The officer with him stopped, and DuBois somehow managed to take him down, get the keys, unlock the cuffs, and steal his gun and his car.”
Sitting next to Serena, Alastair ran his fingers over her knuckles. “And came after Serena.”
“I think he came after both of you.” Jonathan sipped the coffee one of his men had brought a few minutes ago.
Men were stationed all over the hospital to protect their boss and wouldn’t leave until he did.