An Informal Introduction (Informal Romance Book 3)

by Heather Gray

  When the phone vibrated in his hand mid-dial, he assumed the incoming call was from Whitehall. “What else do I need to know?”

  “Caleb?” Lily’s hesitation reached across the line and grabbed him by the throat.

  “Hey. Sorry about that. I thought you were someone else. How’ve you been since I last saw you?”

  Gridlock at the locker room’s entrance tried to slow him down, but he forced his way through the tangle of bodies and hoped the phone didn’t pick up the commotion following in his wake.

  “Nothing. I… I wanted to say I had a lovely time tonight. You’re a good man.”

  Don’t spook her. “I enjoyed it, too, and the feeling’s mutual. Only, I don’t think of you as a good man. Where are you? It doesn’t sound like you’re calling from your apartment.”

  “I just got off the elevator. I’m almost to my door.”

  Caleb was jogging across the parking lot when Lily’s sudden intake of breath reached him. He stopped midway to his truck, surrounded by the expanse of asphalt. “Lily? Lily, talk to me.”

  The gurgling sound of choking stretched over the line to meet him before the kthunk of her phone dropping rang in his ears. He pressed the phone as close as he could, listening. A couple of grunts, then the line went dead.

  He ran the rest of the way to his truck, got in, and tore out of the parking lot before he processed any conscious thought of what he was doing. He had to get to her. He was the only one aware that she was in trouble. Caleb thumbed a button on his steering wheel. “Call Whitehall.” He prayed the agent would pick up.

  “Graham?”

  “Lily’s been attacked. The perp was waiting in her apartment. I’m twenty minutes away.” Forty if he didn’t plan on breaking every traffic law in the books.

  An expletive came across the line, the agent’s voice the verbal equivalent of razor wire. “I tried to check in with everyone on guard detail after you hung up. I can reach the man I have on the night nurse but not the one with Lily.”

  A burning heat started at the base of Caleb’s skull and moved forward, but he fought it. Fear wouldn’t help him — or Lily. She couldn’t afford for him to succumb to emotion. Her life depended on it. If they were fortunate, the assassin didn’t realize she was acquainted with anyone involved in the investigation.

  Please, God. Keep her safe.

  If the assassin did know…

  “Graham, are you listening?”

  Caleb, gunning the engine and swerving around a car that stopped for a yellow light, forced himself to focus on Whitehall. “I am now. What’s the plan?”

  “I’ve alerted backup and I’m on my way, but you’ll arrive first. I’d tell you to wait, but you’d ignore me, so all I can do is warn you to proceed with caution.”

  “Do what you have to, but if Lily’s been hurt…” So much for keeping his emotions under control.

  Whitehall’s resignation might have been comical in different circumstances. “Don’t get yourself killed. That’s all I ask.”

  Caleb ended the call and concentrated on the road. His clammy hands clutched the steering wheel in a death grip. He wove his way around the other vehicles as if he’d been driving in this craziness his whole life.

  It was a miracle more traffic didn’t clog the roads and hamper his way as he tore through the city. Yellow lights were ignored, and red lights became mere suggestions. An icy wind blew through Caleb’s soul.

  Please God. Keep her safe. Clear the roads.

  The last thing he needed was an officer or trooper looking to ticket moving violations.

  At one point he heard a siren, and his heart — already racing — jumped into triple-time. When it ended up being an ambulance traveling a perpendicular path on a street he was about to cross, he didn’t know whether to sigh with relief or pound the wheel because his conscience forced him to stop and let it pass.

  Caleb could have sworn hours had gone by since talking to Lily, but the clock on the dashboard told him less than thirty minutes had elapsed when he pulled his truck up to the entrance and jumped out. His hands shook as he reached for his off-duty weapon.

  He couldn’t go in skittish. He had to get a grip.

  Cold fury filled him, pushing out all the fear, calming his jittery nerves, and steadying his hand.

  Caleb closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. Lily and I both need You, God.

  He pushed away from his truck, its engine left running, and raced through the lobby doors, badge in hand and weapon drawn.

  Lily opened her eyes and took in her surroundings, frantic fear beating a rapid rhythm within her chest and filling her head with the sound of rushing wings, making it difficult to concentrate.

  She was tied to one of her dining room chairs and was facing the kitchen.

  She shook her head, and the movement shot hot pulses of pain rattling around inside her skull.

  “I’m not going to bother introducing myself.” The voice came from her right. “There are only two things you need to understand about me. I will find out where Taylor is, and I will kill you to get the information if necessary.” The voice came from behind her now. “Do we understand each other?”

  That voice… Something wasn’t right.

  Lily answered the question, but it came out as a garbled yth. It took her a moment to realize why she sounded so strange. Her mouth was taped. She closed her eyes and tried to focus, but her fuzzy memory wouldn’t let her.

  She’d phoned Caleb and told him it had been a good night. Or had he called her? Then what?

  Her eyes flew open as her assailant ripped the tape away. A thousand needles of pain tore across her face.

  “Where’s Taylor?”

  Lily forced herself to focus on the lithe, raven-haired woman standing in front of her. “I-I don’t know.”

  The backhand was immediate. Lily’s head snapped to the side, and the bitter taste of blood filled her mouth.

  Wait. A woman? She’d been greeted at her own door with a chokehold, and it had been a woman?

  “Where’s Taylor?”

  “Secret Service took him, but they didn’t tell me where.” Her attacker already knew he wasn’t at the hospital. She wouldn’t be in Lily’s apartment otherwise.

  Lily stared at her assailant. The voice matched the face — cold as ice and anything but masculine. She’d read too many books to not know how this would turn out. If she were blindfolded, she might have a chance at surviving the encounter. As it was, though, the odds were stacked against her. Witnesses rarely survived.

  This time she expected the backhand. Being prepared for it meant nothing, though, in light of her inability to defend herself.

  “One last time. Then we’ll get serious. I’m not going to waste my time here with you. Where is Taylor?”

  Lily wracked her brain trying to think of a plausible lie, but her concentration was broken by pain and fear. All she could do was shake her head and close her eyes as tears seeped out.

  When no blow came, she cracked her eyes open.

  Lord, save me. Shelter me, protect me, rescue me!

  It was her only coherent thought. She gaped at the sight of her attacker in the kitchen, using tongs to hold a novelty biscuit-sized cast iron baking pan in the flames from the gas stove.

  Bile churned in Lily’s stomach and terror stole her breath. She fought to calm herself, control her panic, and force air back into her lungs.

  The assassin examined her with a calculated smile. “If you scream, I’ll make sure the children across the hall die gruesome deaths and that their last thought is about how you’re to blame for their murders.”

  A buzzing sound started at the back of Lily’s skull.

  “What are their names again? Oh, that’s right. Susie, Michael, and baby Lucie. Call for help, and you guarantee their end.” She said it as though she were discussing the weather report.

  The buzzing grew more insistent. Lily did her best to ignore it. “I don’t know where he is. Ask me anything else.”
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br />   “All right. We can play this game. Have the authorities identified me?”

  Lily shook her head. “I d-don’t think so. They didn’t know who… who was behind the shooting.”

  “Do they have any suspects? What names have you heard?”

  She shook her head again. “I… I haven’t heard any… any names.”

  “You sure you didn’t overhear Secret Service mention anyone?”

  “No…”

  The assassin made a choking sound. “Secret Service should have stayed out of it.” She shoved the small round baking dish — approximately three inches in diameter — directly down into the fire, no longer bothering to hold it aloft with the tongs. She approached Lily, grabbed a nearby roll of duct tape, and tore off a new piece. The assassin snugged the fresh tape tightly against Lily’s mouth.

  She leaned casually against the counter that separated them from the kitchen. “I was hired to do a job, and I always finish what I start. Don’t bother asking who hired me, either.” She leaned forward long enough to touch a finger to Lily’s taped mouth. “After all, every girl should keep a few secrets.

  “When a job came up in the U.S., I knew I should have declined. The money was too good to turn down, though. Dumb of me, really. Jobs in the U.S. never go the way I envision them. Too late to do anything about that now, though.”

  She crossed her arms and continued leaning against the counter. “I was scouting a possible site to complete the job when somebody stole my car. I pride myself on not leaving a trail, so you can imagine my upset when that car ended up in the hands of the state police.”

  With a shake of her head, the assassin moved back into the kitchen. She used the tongs to remove the baking dish from the stove’s flames, then walked deliberately toward Lily.

  Tied to the chair, Lily could do nothing but listen and watch as the woman came closer and closer. The dish was supposed to bake biscuits so they came out with the imprint of a snowflake on the top. A gift from someone at church. She’d never even used it. Who baked just one biscuit?

  Lily fought the hysteria bubbling its way to the surface.

  “I believe you, I do. You understand, though, that I have to be certain?” The woman’s voice grew sinister. “So this is your last chance. Nod if you’re ready to tell me where they took Taylor. Or you’ll be branded for life.”

  Or death. Lily shook her head frantically, choking on her own sobs.

  Caleb approached Lily’s apartment door. He stood as close as he dared, listening for any hint of what went on within the walls, but no distinguishable sound came through the door. Seeing no other course of action, he shot the lock and kicked the door in. His gunfire echoed in the hall, an almost deafening roar.

  Backup was already on the way, but he hoped every neighbor within hearing distance was on the phone to 911. The woman he loved was in danger, which meant there would never be enough backup to suit him.

  He charged over the threshold. A woman stood over Lily with… a branding iron? Whatever it was, she had it in one hand and her gun in the other. If he fired, the woman could drop whatever she was holding right onto Lily. So he rushed her. The woman flung the metal contraption at him. He dodged it, but with too much momentum built up to stop, he had no hope of avoiding her gunfire. Pain seared through his shoulder and arm as he hit her full-force, tackling the internationally wanted assassin like the linebacker he’d never been.

  They went flying past where Lily was secured and crashed into the wall with enough force to spew plaster dust into the air. The jarring impact rattled every bone in his body and sent pain pulsing through his right side with each beat of his heart. He still gripped his gun, though, which meant this was far from over. Caleb backed away slowly and kept his weapon trained on the woman. Her hands were empty. The gun she’d used must have gone flying when he’d tackled her, but he had no way of knowing where it had landed.

  When he saw Lily out of the corner of his eye, he implored her, “Nod if you’re okay.”

  She nodded, and the relief almost brought him to his knees.

  Caleb was reaching for one of the pairs of restraints he’d tucked into the pocket of his gym shorts when a door opened out in the hallway and someone screamed. After so much gunfire in close quarters, his ears were ringing, and the scream was muffled. His attention was jerked away from the assailant for an instant, not even long enough to turn around and look toward the scream. It was, however, long enough for Lily’s captor to reach her ankle holster. He registered the movement and years of training came to the fore. Caleb kicked Lily’s chair to the side and fired three shots in a tight cluster. The woman also pulled the trigger, but she only got one shot off before she collapsed like a rag doll on the apartment floor. His left arm felt like someone had stuck him with a fireplace poker, evidence that her shot hadn’t gone as wild as he’d hoped — or hit the woman he loved.

  He made a move toward Lily, but the roar of thunder penetrated his still-ringing ears and gave him pause.

  Men in black tactical gear swarmed into the room. “ON YOUR KNEES! DROP THE GUN!”

  Not thunder, then. Boots. The cavalry had arrived.

  Apparently Whitehall didn’t kid around about backup. No apartment security, and no street cops. The Secret Service agent had sent an entire SWAT team.

  Caleb set his weapon down then kneeled, putting his hands on his head. His right hand barely made it. One of those bullets had to have gone straight through his deltoid. Nothing about it felt life-threatening, though. Just painful.

  None too gently, someone shoved Caleb to his stomach with a boot between the shoulder blades and restrained his hands behind his back with nylon cuffs.

  Youch! With his arms forcibly held in place, there was no relief for the pull on his muscles.

  Medics filed into the room next. After confirming the woman on the floor was dead, they saw to Lily.

  Beautiful Lily. Alive and safe.

  He would wait as long as it took. If she needed distance, she could have it. Caleb had been rushing things with her. By her standard, anyway.

  She was the one for him. He still knew it. Now that she wasn’t in danger, though, she could take all the time she wanted. They would go on dates, share ice cream, enjoy the movies, and spend sunny afternoons at the park playing Frisbee. Whatever she wanted. She was worth it. If she needed to be wooed, he would woo her.

  The minute they tore the tape from her mouth, Lily scolded everyone within hearing. “Caleb works for the police… He saved my life… She’s an assassin!” The fact that they wielded big guns and outnumbered her ten to one didn’t faze her in the least.

  Nobody argued the implausibility outright, but a couple of the men from SWAT snickered. Nothing about Lily screamed out assassin’s victim. Her story was improbable. Unbelievable, even. Yet it was true, every last word.

  The medics wouldn’t let Lily out of their grasp. “I’m fine… I’m a nurse, for pity’s sake… I think I’d know if I was injured… Why aren’t you people checking on Caleb? Leave me alone… He’s the one bleeding!”

  He lay where he’d landed, cream-colored carpet fibers tickling his nose.

  She’s worried about me.

  Warmth started in his middle and spread until it filled all his limbs, pushing away the cold, shaking terror from earlier and the burning hot rage he’d experienced when he’d seen the assassin standing over the woman he loved. Pretty soon all that remained was the warm glow of knowing Lily cared. That and the pain in one shoulder and both arms, pain that was officially graduating from burning to white-hot.

  From the corner of his eye, Caleb caught sight of a new pair of shoes entering the room. Dress shoes, not tactical boots. The shoes moved closer, and the man wearing them squatted down next to him. “Wipe that silly grin off your face. You’re making the SWAT guys think you’re a deranged psycho killer.” Whitehall’s voice was a welcome addition.

  “She’s worried about me.”

  The agent’s laugh snapped through the room like th
e crackle of lightning. All the intense energy that had been humming through the place vanished, burned up in an instant as the adrenaline level in the room shifted from rush to aftermath. “Let her go, guys. Changing her mind is a hopeless cause, and she doesn’t want to be fussed at. Might as well let him up, too. He’s one of the good guys.”

  The moment those medics let go, Lily jumped to her feet and sprinted across the room. She threw herself at Caleb. Someone had removed his cuffs, but he was only halfway up off the floor when her body met his.

  A misplaced ottoman behind his knees kept him from being knocked back-first onto the carpet. Instead, he fell into the ottoman and landed ungracefully on his derriere, Lily in his lap. All things considered, it wasn’t a bad landing.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. She poured all the emotions churning, bubbling, and raging inside her into that kiss, and he absorbed each one without complaint. Her fear, anxiety, and anger melted away in the face of his solid strength and unyielding love.

  Husbands, love your wives… as Christ loved the church…

  No one has greater love than this, that someone would lay down his life…

  The Bible verses filtered into her mind without any conscious thought on her part.

  She broke off the kiss and leaned back.

  Is that You, God?

  It wasn’t normal to hear from God in the middle of passionately kissing a man in front of a room full of witnesses. Was it?

  What God has joined together…

  Hm. Maybe it was.

  Lily couldn’t deny it any longer. She’d known almost as quickly as Caleb, but she’d battled against how right it had felt. Maybe because she was cautious. Or because she was stubborn and didn’t like being told what to do. Either way, her fighting days were over. She was ready to accept their future.

  She released her grip on his shirt and brought her hands up to cup his face. The scratch of his ten o’clock shadow tickled her palms. No harm in one more kiss… “Marry me. Now. Today. Tomorrow. As soon as we can get the license.”