Chill

by Stephanie Rowe

  The door shut behind the nurse, and Isabella was tempted to lock it behind her.

  Instead, she walked over to the window, as she had already done ten times since she’d been deposited there. She felt like Luke, continually scanning her surroundings for threats. The parking lot was relatively empty, which had given Luke plenty of space to land his plane.

  She almost chuckled at the sight of the plane in the middle of a parking lot. Only in Alaska. She liked the craziness of this state. There was something liberating about strangers fishing strangers out of the river and handing over their own clothes. About wearing a ratty old sweatshirt and having no one care.

  And Luke was here. Isabella’s smile faded as she thought of him. She had no business thinking fondly of him. They weren’t a fit. He rejected family, financial security and Marcus, all the things that were so important to her.

  But he was strong. He’d dived into bullets to protect her. He’d beaten Nate and his cronies without firing a gun. He wasn’t like them. He was, but he wasn’t. He’d been tender with her. He made her feel brave. And she envied his ability to disregard all pressures as to how he should live. Granted, she couldn’t eschew all monetary blessings as he had, but there was an honesty in how Luke lived and operated that she appreciated.

  She leaned her forehead against the window and thought about how they’d almost made love. It had been good they’d been interrupted. Really, it had. She would have done it, and then she would have had to deal with the fact that he was going to walk away. She had no doubt that he was going to get her out of Alaska, and then leave her to fight for Marcus herself.

  Marcus.

  Tears filled her eyes. Dear God, she couldn’t lose him, too. Luke, Marcus—

  A black car swung into the lot and eased up behind Luke’s plane. Isabella tensed as she watched it idle. Then the passenger door opened, and a man in a suit got out.

  She was too far away to identify him, but it was clear he was holding a gun.

  Another man got out and they stalked the plane, stealthily approaching from the rear, guns out.

  Isabella’s fingers dug into the windowsill. How long until they made it into the hospital? She couldn’t wait for Luke anymore. She had to go back to Boston and make a deal for Marcus’s freedom. She didn’t know how much of what Nate had said was the truth, whether Marcus had faked his own kidnapping and it had gone out of his control, or whether he had been kidnapped by Leon. Either way, she needed to go home and make sure he was all right.

  But even as the thought occurred to her, she thought of Nate’s words. Of Luke’s claims about his dad. What if Marcus wasn’t innocent on any level? What if he’d sent the goons after her? What if the necklace and earrings were so important that Marcus had given Leon permission to shoot her? “Dear God,” she whispered. Nausea churned in her belly, and she closed her eyes.

  She wouldn’t allow her mind to go down that path. Marcus would not betray her. Unlike Luke, she believed in those she loved. The world was not the black and white place Luke believed it to be, and she would not allow him to take away her belief that flawed people could still be worth loving.

  She opened her eyes. “I am going to save him,” she whispered. “And I’m doing it now—”

  “Isabella.”

  She turned as Luke stepped inside her room. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was gaunt and heavily whiskered. His shirt was covered in blood from carrying Cort. It was smeared up his arms and over his jeans. On his face. Three hours later, he still wore his friend’s blood.

  “How is Cort?”

  He shook his head once. “Hasn’t woken up since the surgery. No predictions.” His voice was hard. Cold. His face impassive.

  Isabella knew what that was like. She’d done the same thing after her mother had died. Blocked the pain. “It wasn’t your fault, Luke.”

  He flinched as if she’d stabbed him, and she saw a brief flash of hollow pain in his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by the same steely flint she was accustomed to seeing on Marcus’s face.

  She shivered under the cold assault. “It’s my fault,” she said.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Yours? How the hell do you figure that?”

  “I came here. I brought them here.” She gestured at the window. “And they won’t leave.”

  Luke strode across the room and peered out the window. He scowled as he watched the men scavenge his plane. “They know now.”

  “Know what?” She moved beside him, watching the ruthless predators dissect the world that was Luke’s. “What’s left to know?”

  “That Luke Webber is Adam Fie.” His voice was hard. “No one Luke Webber knows will be safe once that’s out.”

  Isabella closed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for bringing this back to you.”

  “No.” Luke caught her arms and turned her toward him. His face was furious. “This isn’t your fault, Isa. It’s me. And I’m going to take care of it.”

  She shook her head. “No, I will. I’m leaving. I’m going back to Boston. I’m going to face them and—”

  “I’m going with you.”

  She stared at him, unable to believe what she’d just heard. “What?”

  His grip tightened on her shoulders, and his face was hard. Ruthless. “I’m going to Boston, and you’re coming with me, where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. We’re taking this down.”

  His gaze was unwavering, and his jaw was hard with determination. He was in. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He shook his head once. “It’s not like that—”

  “It is!” She launched herself at him, and he caught her around the waist. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “You are a gift,” she whispered.

  Luke wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly, crushing her against his body. He held her as if he would never let her go. As if she were the only thing left in his world to cling to. As if she could keep him from sliding into the dark abyss trying to consume him. She sensed the desperation in the frantic beat of his heart, in the cords of tension in his neck, in the way his body was trembling against hers.

  Her savior, her man of strength, needed her.

  “Oh, Luke,” she whispered. She pulled back slightly so she could see him. His eyes were haunted, so full of the pain he’d been suppressing. There were years of agony weighing on him. A lifetime of regret, of pain, of loss, of resistance. And she knew in that moment that saving Marcus wasn’t her only goal.

  Luke needed to be healed as well, and she could do it. She could bridge the crevasse between Luke and his roots. With her help, they could rebuild the connections. She could give him back the family that had been eating away at him for so long. Return his friends to him. It would be safe for him to care again.

  She laid her hands on either side of his face. “The pain ends for you now,” she whispered. “It’s time.”

  Luke searched her face for a long moment, and she saw the resistance in his eyes. The denial. The rock he’d always been coming back to the surface.

  She kissed him before he could argue.

  Her kiss was the only thing that could have broken through the grief hammering at him, through the vision of his best friend lying in that hospital bed. Her kiss was the only thing bright enough to penetrate.

  And the minute her mouth touched his, Luke was desperate for it.

  He fisted her hair with one hand, then took over the kiss. He was ravenous for her, for the softness and innocence that she was. Not innocence, not exactly. He knew she’d been through tough stuff. It was evident in every word she spoke and in the way she fought for what she believed in.

  Isabella clung faithfully to the innocent belief that it could have a happy ending. She could see the good in the world and will it to life. That was a gift, a treasure, something he’d never run across in his entire life. It should have scared him. It should ha
ve made him turn his back and snort with derision. But it didn’t. It just felt so good to feel that sunshine on him.

  She made a small noise of desire and his body went hard. He growled in response and angled her head so he could kiss her deeper. He needed more than a kiss, no matter how passionate. He needed to be inside her. To be consumed by that side of her that he’d never run into before he’d met her.

  He didn’t want a lifetime from her.

  Not even a month or a year.

  Just now. Today. Maybe tomorrow.

  He had long ago learned not to look ahead.

  The feel of her back beneath his hands, of her body pressed up against his, of her tongue dancing with his…it had created a need in him that burned so hard and so deep.

  He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down her neck. He licked the salt off her, inhaled her unique scent, and he let himself drown in her essence. She knew about his past, knew what hell he brought to the table, had seen him get his own friend shot, and yet she stood here, in his arms, clinging to him as tightly as he was holding her.

  This woman who was such a hardcore believer in love, in family, in being good to those you cared about…she knew all about him, and yet she still wanted him.

  He didn’t get it.

  He didn’t want it.

  And he couldn’t afford to suck her into the black hell that he brought with him.

  He’d make sure to divest himself of her when it was done. He would disappear into the night and take his hell with him. He would leave her behind so she could live without being under the shadows that haunted him.

  But for now…since they had to be together, he was going to get the most out of every minute he had. He’d inhale her life and her energy into his soul and let it carry him.

  Her hips were soft and full, perfectly curved beneath his hands. A woman. Not just any woman. A woman who touched something inside him that made him want to be soft. Just holding her and kissing her made some of the darkness inside him fade, overwhelmed by the gentle nature of her soul. An abatement that made Adam Fie lose his grip on Luke Webber. Parts of his soul flickered back to life again. The parts that made him human.

  Isabella Kopas was going to be his secret weapon to keep Adam Fie at bay once Luke went back into Adam’s world.

  Isabella Kopas was going to be his salvation.

  And it began now.

  He scooped her up and carried her toward the bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Luke set Isabella on the bed and straddled her, never breaking the kiss. She clung to him, her hands wrapped around his neck as he settled her into the white hospital sheets. Need raged deep inside him—

  A rustle sounded outside the door, and Luke froze.

  Isabella went still beneath him, her dark eyes focused on his.

  “The guard was there when I came in,” Luke whispered, as he eased himself off the bed and went to the door.

  A quiet murmured conversation outside the door.

  Footsteps retreating.

  A light knock.

  Luke watched the doorknob rattle lightly, and he swore.

  He strode across the room and grabbed Isabella’s hand. “Come on.” If it were just him, he’d stay and fight if he had to, but he couldn’t afford to risk Isabella’s safety. He’d learned his lesson with Cort. Besides, whoever was at the door was just an ancillary tentacle.

  He needed to take down the king, and the king was in Boston.

  The doorknob stopped rattling, and Luke knew the person at the door was working on other options to get it open. A minute, maybe two, was all he had to get Isabella out of there. “Out the window.”

  He jimmied the window open, then thrust Isabella out onto the fire escape.

  As soon as she was on her way, he went back into the room and grabbed a pen and a paper towel from the sink. He scrawled a note, then dropped it in the middle of the bed on his way back to the window.

  Isabella was already hustling down the bottom flight of stairs by the time he’d gotten the window shut and rigged it so it wouldn’t open. Yeah, they could break the glass, but any delay would help. And with any luck, the note would be all he needed.

  Luke caught up to Isabella just as she reached the last rung. She hung from the end of the ladder, then dropped the last few feet to the ground. He swung down and landed beside her, just as their window began to rattle.

  “Get back.” He yanked Isabella against the side of the building, so they couldn’t be seen from the closed window. He led her along the brick wall, heading toward the back lot where his plane was parked.

  “What took you so long?” Isabella asked as she ran along beside him.

  “I left them a note.” They reached the edge of the building and he pulled them back against the wall before inching his head around to inspect the lot.

  “A note? What kind of note?”

  The black car was still there, but the three men were leaning against the trunk, chatting and smoking. They weren’t paying attention. Arrogant fools, thinking their mere presence would be enough to discourage him from taking what was his. “Come on.” He began working his way around to the plane from the other direction.

  Isabella hurried quietly beside him, and they made it quickly around the lot. He paused behind a pickup truck, taking a moment to listen to the conversation. They were talking about beer they’d had at a bar recently. All three were participating in the discussion. No one was listening for a sneak attack.

  He gestured toward the plane. “Ready?”

  Isabella’s eyes widened. “We’re just going to walk up there?”

  “Yep.” It was a huge risk, because if one of those men saw them before they got close enough, they’d be completely exposed. It was the only chance they had, and he needed his plane.

  Besides, he was better than they were.

  Isabella swallowed. “Do you have a gun?”

  “Nope.”

  “They do.”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay. Just wanted to make sure you knew.” She wiggled up next to him and set her hand on his arm. She was watching the men as intently as he had been. Her face was pale, but there was a firm set to her jaw.

  She knew what they had to do, and she was right there with him.

  Damn, he could love a woman like that—

  Jesus. He rocked back on his heels, stunned by that thought. He’d have to be the stupidest son of a bitch on the planet to fall in love with another woman. And he wasn’t stupid.

  But shit, just the thought made him feel like he’d left his brains back in the river.

  Focus, Luke. “We’re going to head right for the plane.” His lips brushed against Isabella’s ear. He could smell her fantastic scent as he breathed the words, and his cock went hard. He was getting a boner now? What was he, fifteen? “If the men see us, run your ass off to the plane. I’ll be right behind you. They don’t have a plane to follow us if we can get airborne. Got it? Don’t stop no matter what.”

  She leaned back against him, so her back was pressed against his chest. “Even if they shoot?”

  “Even if they shoot. Just run for the plane.”

  A tremor ran through her body, and she squeezed his forearm. “Let’s do it.”

  They moved from behind the truck together, right into the open, and ran across the parking lot. It was a fifty-yard exposed sprint that seemed like a marathon. Luke kept his body between Isabella and the men, slowing to stay even with her.

  They reached the plane, and he hoisted Isabella up. Her foot caught the seat belt and she tumbled forward into the gears. Her turquoise necklace clanked against the shift, a noise that seemed deathly loud in the cockpit.

  One of the men started to turn, and Luke ducked out of sight. “Buckle up,” Luke whispered.

  He settled in the pilot’s seat and saw the reflection of a man in one of the gauges. Someone was coming. Slowly. Not sure if he’d heard anything. But easing over to the plane to assess.

  Luke took a split s
econd to narrow his concentration, then started the plane and yanked the door shut in one motion.

  “Hey!” Shouts rang from outside. Luke ignored them as he readied the plane for flight. It was the kiss of death for a bush pilot to get airborne without doing a safety check. He’d never neglected it, no matter what the circumstances had been, and skipping it after the jokers had been in his plane would be sheer idiocy.

  He almost grinned as someone yanked on the door handle, and he threw the plane into gear. Taking off without a safety check in this situation was something Cort would do. He had done it, in fact. And the poor bastard had nearly died for it.

  Lesson learned?

  Yeah. He’d get luckier than Cort. That was the lesson.

  A man jumped in front of the plane and aimed his gun right at Luke.

  “Duck.”

  Isabella bent over and Luke revved the engine. The man jumped out of the way, and a bullet flew harmlessly past. Luke taxied the plane to the end of the parking lot, spun around and straightened it for takeoff.

  Facing him down were the three men, guns up, a blockade across his path.

  “Good God,” Isabella said. “We’ll never make it.”

  “It’ll take a perfect hit to keep us on the ground.”

  “Marcus hires only the best.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m pretty good as well.” Luke jammed the plane into gear and headed right for the guns.

  The men started firing instantly, and Luke held his course, bearing right down on the men. He heard a few pings of metal hitting, but the plane kept picking up speed.

  His windshield cracked, and he pressed harder. And harder. Until the men were right in front of him, guns flashing like crazy.

  Then they were behind Luke, and he gunned the plane. The roar of the engine was so loud he couldn’t hear the gunshots he knew were following him. The plane bucked and Luke swore. But then she recovered. Another fifty feet and the wheels lifted off.

  Three more seconds and they were up.

  Out of reach.

  “Dear God.” Isabella leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. “That was close.”