by Mary Blayney
“What are you doing here?” Steve had just pocketed his phone when he caught sight of her.
“You’re bleeding,” she said, pointing to his arm.
“Shit.”
She handed him the cotton scarf she’d been wearing and, without apology, he wrapped it around his arm.
“Someone should take a look at that, Steve. You might need stitches.”
“Later,” he said.
The man needed a keeper. She’d make damn sure it was seen to later.
“Now get out of here,” he said.
“I want to help. I promise I won’t get in the way.”
“Just you being here is distraction enough.”
“Jeez, what a sweet thing to say, Romeo.” His phone rang again, sounding somehow more insistent than ever. Kendall took that as a cue and backed off, looking around for a more practical way to contribute.
Despite what he’d said, Steve O’Hara had no trouble ignoring her. He delegated duties, including the care of the two injured victims, one of whom looked pretty badly cut. At Steve’s urging, the security guard at the front desk applied a tourniquet to the man’s injured limb. The patient appeared to be conscious and didn’t seem to be panicking. He was probably in shock.
If anything, the security guard was the one who looked stressed. While he clearly didn’t want to abandon the man, he also seemed anxious to get back to his job. Kendall offered to stay with the injured party until help arrived. Surely she could do that and keep an eye on Steve O’Hara.
She knelt beside the man, offering him assurances as the sirens came screaming their way. He grabbed her hand, holding on with impressive strength for someone who had lost a lot of blood. She stayed next to him on the floor, which gave her an interesting perspective on the assessment going on all around her.
The glass from the window was strewn about in tiny pieces. It reminded her of a smashed car windshield, but unlike a windshield, the window had burst into a thousand million of the pieces. There were shards of sharp, hard–edged glass, totally different from the pieces of broken window. She assumed were from the destroyed statue. That was what had caused the injuries. At least that’s how it looked.
Steve, the two of his crew who had come in with him, and the first responders seemed to be trying to find the projectile that had so totally destroyed the window, but it was apparently nowhere to be found. Kendall started to look around too. The thing had to be hard to miss, unless it had slid or rolled under some surface in the room. Bending in a way that made her thankful for all the yoga she had done, she scanned the floor, paying close attention to the space under the entrance desk. Nothing.
She looked up at the grand staircase that rose in a curve to a level of offices, the overlook now packed with workers both curious and frightened. Then she spotted something beneath the bottom stop.
“Steve!” she shouted. It took a minute and another shout to get his attention.
He came over, a worried look on his face. “Is he worse? I swear the ambulance is only a block away.”
“He’s doing okay. It’s just that I can see something under the bottom step over there. I was wondering if it could be what you are looking for.”
Steve bent down and looked from her perspective. She could smell the blood and sweat on him, and an aura of authority emanated from him as surely as the smell of battle.
He muttered his favorite word and called out to the cops who had just arrived with the ambulance and EMTs.
Kendall moved out the way as she tried to figure out how to make sure they took care of Steve…or, rather, how to get Steve to cooperate.
The police urged her out of the building, and rather than explaining who she was, she did as they asked. She could keep an eye on him from the sidewalk as easily as she could from inside.
With her arms folded across her chest, she did her best to stay out of the way. Just as the emergency personnel were bringing the more seriously injured man out of the lobby, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned.
“Do you know Steve O’Hara?”
She nodded.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes.” It was mostly true, but she really had no idea if it was any of this guy’s business.
“Will you please give him this, miss?” he asked, suddenly deferential and very polite. He handed her a white business envelope with Steve’s name typed on it.
“Okay, but I’m sure he’ll be out in a minute.” She turned to look for Steve, but when she swiveled around again, the man was gone. He’d disappeared down an alley or into a neighboring building.
Feeling vaguely uncomfortable, she held on to the envelope and waited. A zillion thoughts about what the envelope could possibly contain slammed through her head, and when she considered that it might be a ‘bomb threat,’ she decided not to wait any longer before handing it over to Steve.
Easier said than done. Finally she gave it to one of the cops and begged him to take in to Steve. The cop ripped open the envelope, which made Kendall think that's what she should have done, read it, and headed for the door.
“Hey, what does it say?”
He ignored her, so she followed him inside, trying to look like she was following him at his behest.
The foyer was quiet now, except for the voices of the cops who were directing the crime scene crew. Steve O’Hara stood off to the side, talking on his phone, his eyes moving around the room as if he was trying to keep track of all the activity around him. When he saw Kendall, he ended the call and moved toward her. He was stopped by the cop with the paper.
After reading it, Steve closed his eyes for a long moment. “That clinches what I already suspected. Where did you get it?”
The cop turned and gestured toward Kendall. “She says someone handed her an envelope and told her to give it to you.”
“Shit!” Steve grabbed Kendall by the arm in anything but a friendly gesture. “What do you have to do with this?”
“Hey pal,” she said, trying to escape his grasp. “I’m the innocent bystander.”
“Who just happened to be on the scene at two related disturbances…”
“Oh, don’t be stupid. I had nothing to do with either one, and you know it. The guy who gave it to me was wearing a ball cap, and sunglasses. Ask around outside. I’m sure someone saw him come up to me.”
“A baseball cap and sunglasses? So you can’t describe him. How convenient.”
“Oh fantastic, another snide comment. What does the note say anyway? I have no idea,” she put an emphasis on the last four words.
He handed her the paper. It read: Closer this time. Even closer next time.
#
He saw her shudder, and her hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle a scream. She might be an actress, but he really didn’t think even the best actress could be this convincing. His gut told him she had nothing to do with it. The problem with his gut was too close to his cock, which had a pretty strong opinion of its own about Kendall Marshall. There was a chance that that might be confusing him.
“The first time was the cherry bombs on Remson Street?” She spoke in a husky whisper.
“Which you had nothing to do with?” he asked her one more time. Even he heard the acceptance in his voice.
“Steve, I swear on Cassie’s new heart that I am in no way involved. What is this, anyway? Does someone have a vendetta against Mike? Is it a stalker fan? Oh God, you must be so infuriated and worried.” He had released her arm and now she grabbed his. “You believe me, don’t you?”
He nodded. “First off, this kind of stalker doesn’t usually work with anyone else, and you were with your sister the whole time the other day.”
“So it’s not so much that you believe me. Your experience just tells you that I didn’t do it.”
“I’m sorry I came on so strong. That was desperation and, you’re right, worry.”
“Now you’re being way too nice.”
“Shit, can’t win with you can I?” he asked, shaking his hea
d in frustration.
“If you didn’t use that word in every other sentence, it would be a big step in the right direction.”
“What word?” Shit, he thought, she wants to argue semantics now?
“Never mind. This is neither the time nor the place.” Kendall looked at his arm. “What can I do to help? Anything.” Suddenly she was all business. “And then we can go to the hospital for them to look at your injury.”
Yea, his arm was beginning to ache now that she mentioned it. “Give the cops all the info you can. You’re the one who saw the projectile first, and this guy picked you out to act as his delivery girl.”
“God, that does sound too weird to be a coincidence.”
“But it is, and there’s a good chance that you’re part of his fantasy now.”
“I could use your favorite word, but I’ll try to stay ladylike.”
Chapter Five
Kendall knew it would take forever, and it did. She spent the better part of an hour talking to three different people; all of them part of some first responding team. They finally agreed to let her leave when she offered to come to the station the next day if they thought of more questions.
When she was done, Kendall scanned the lobby for Steve. She found him talking to a man who was listening with an intensity that was very reassuring.
Pausing just outside of their line of sight, Kendall watched them as she pulled off her gold hoops, replacing then with yellow diamond earrings of impressive pedigree, and put on a wedding ring of channeled diamonds, both of which she took from a small zippered compartment in her purse. She hurried up to Steve, suddenly feeling an urgent need to see that his arm was treated.
“So I’m betting that you’re Steve’s go–to guy?” Kendall asked as she introduced herself. She had only needed to watch them for a minute to sort that out. This man was tall, strong, and every bit as commanding as Steve. He was obviously someone Steve O’Hara trusted more than most.
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a nod that was more like a salute.
“This is Nelson, Kendall.” Steve didn’t say if it was his first name or last. “He’s married to Maddie.” First name then, unless Maddie had kept her maiden name.
“Steve called you in because he needs to head to the hospital to have his arm looked at.” She nodded toward the blood soaked scarf he was wearing like some sort of medieval favor.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a little less certainty.
“Then I’m going to take him right now. He’s beginning to flag, don’t you think? He can hardly be at his best if he’s in pain. Besides, Mike would skin me alive if anything happened to Steve.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, and this time it was as though he had ceded authority to her. Steve said nothing; he just watched her with eyes that were bright – a little too bright.
“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” She stepped behind Steve and began to nudge him toward the door.
“But excuse me, ma’am, who are you?”
There was a plaintive note in his voice that made her decide to take pity on him. “I’m Steve O’Hara’s temporary wife.” She waved the hand that bore the fabulous diamond band at him and left without looking back.
#
“Pretty impressive, Mrs. O’Hara.”
The taxi had already pulled away from the curb with them in it when Steve finally made a comment.
“That’s Ms. Marshall. I kept my maiden name for professional reasons.” As she spoke, she began to unbutton the buttons at the hem of her skirt.
“I see.” He said, glued to the casual display of her legs. She unbuttoned the dress all the way to the belted waist, only to reveal a matching pair of shorts that came to mid thigh. The peek–a–book effect would distract a priest, but Steve turned away and looked out the window – not before she caught his smile, though. Was he going to cooperate for once?
“Where are we going? The nearest hospital is only a few blocks away.”
“We’re going to the best trauma center in the city. Jessica and I did the research when we thought Cassie might come here to wait for her transplant.”
“Trauma center? Shit, this isn’t much more than a scratch.”
“They won’t think so when I’m done with them.”
This time he did laugh out loud.
#
Kendall Marshall was a one–woman force of nature. Steve was beginning to like that about her. Most of the time. “So what’s with the ring? Where did you come up with that?”
His arm had started to hurt like a son of a bitch. Talking was his only distraction. Besides, he was curious.
“It was Jessica’s. She was going to sell it after the divorce, but I talked her into giving it to me as a Christmas present. It’s a prop…one that occasionally comes in handy.”
“That’s one helluva Christmas present.”
“You have some idea how obscenely rich her ex is, right?”
“Yeah, close to a billion.”
“Well, Jessica’s settlement was modest, but huge by anyone else’s standards. This ring isn’t much more than a bauble.”
Why am I always surrounded by people whose concept of money is so totally unrealistic?
“It’s insured.” She said it as though she thought his surprise was over her casual behavior.
“And those earrings?” He knew the answer, but he wanted her to know how keen his powers of observation were even when he was befuddled by pain and the occasional erotic jolt.
“Same pedigree,” she said with a shrug. “Her ex–husband was a favorite customer of Chadwick Diamonds.”
“Okay. So what I want to know is how we could afford those. After all, you’re wearing them as my wife.”
Kendall shrugged, “Wellstone Security is obviously mega successful. Or maybe I’m the mega successful one. Yeah, I like that idea even better. In any case, it’s one of the reasons you’ll be treated oh–so–well at the hospital.”
He could not wait to see that performance. At least it would distract him from the damn needles.
It was every bit as entertaining as he’d imagined. Once they established that his injury wasn’t life threatening, they put them in a curtained, relatively private room that was open to the ER on one end.
Kendall’s “I don’t think it was a terrorist incident, but there is no concrete information yet,” had garnered the staffs’ interest. When they asked if other victims were coming, she explained that they had been taken to a closer hospital. “When I could finally pull Steve away from his work with the police, I knew this was the place to bring him. We’ve been doing research for donations.”
“You are too much, acting wife of mine,” he said once they were alone.
“Everything I said was true,” she insisted with affront.
“Possible donation?”
“Absolutely, cross–my–heart true.” Kendall matched the gesture to the words. “If Cassie had come to New York, I am sure Jessica would have made a sizeable donation to the hospital.”
”Terrorist incident?”
“I’m telling you, Steve, it terrorized me. Especially when I saw you bleeding all over the floor.”
She was standing over him, and on impulse, he reached up with his good arm and pulled her down for a kiss. It was a simple buss on the lips; just a little test to see if what he felt when he brushed up against her went any deeper.
Whoa, shit. It sure did.
“We always like it when a couple makes the most of their ER time.” A doctor stood in the doorway, his smile cynical but not unfriendly.
Only slightly embarrassed, Steve pulled back from her. Kendall stood, taking the doctor’s hand in both of hers. “Hello Doctor Varner. I’m Kendall Marshall and this is my husband, Steve O’Hara.”
Kendall and the doc struck up an immediate friendship, possibly because of her amazing legs, which he caught a glimpse of whenever she moved. The way her shorts and skirt outfit hinted at what might come off next was enough to drive a man insane
She spent the next five minutes filling the doctor in on the incident. When she paused for breath, Steve managed to get a word in edgewise. “You would think my tongue had been cut out.” He looked at Kendall. “Honey,” he imbued the work with a combination of affection and irritation, “I can talk for myself. Why don’t you go call my brother and your sister and tell them that everything is okay?”
“Oh, good idea. Let me use your phone, will you? Mine needs a charge.”
He knew what she was doing; she was taking his phone so that he wouldn’t be distracted by updates about the incident. As far as he was concerned, the doc was the one who needed to pay attention, not him, but he handed her the phone anyway. Nelson could handle whatever came up.
“Out now, Mrs. Marshall,” the doctor said.
She flashed him a mega smile, “Please call me Kendall, Doctor Varner.”
That flirt, Steve thought. She blew him a kiss.
#
“No, I took your phone cause I didn’t know your brother’s cell phone number,” Kendall insisted. They were in a cab to his place. She handed his phone over promptly. “Mike said he wanted you to call him first thing.”
Dutifully, Steve hit the icon and called his brother. Kendall watched with interest. To be fair, it wasn’t like she could give him much privacy in the cab.
Judging from Kendall’s nods, most of his conversation with Mike was a rehash.
“Yes, the glass was tempered. It broke just as it should have. No one was injured by the glass from the window. That god awful statue in the lobby was what caused the cuts. Make the next one a man of steel, will you? Now if the window had been any bigger the story might have had a different ending.”
He listened for a minute and shook his head. “He was lucky, Mike, or maybe he did some serious research and practiced. One good solid swing with that sledge hammer was enough to take out the window no matter how well anchored. I’ll give you a full report tomorrow.” He hoped that would forestall another ten questions and he could get out of the cab before the pain killers wore off.