off. She tried to move, but her limbs wouldn't obey as she blinked owlishly at the
blazing headlights. She put her left hand over her eyes and groaned.
She heard the creak of a vehicle door opening, then a gasp. "Son of a bitch!"
She'd recognize that voice anywhere. Shane.
Relief washed through her and she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so
happy to see anyone. Painfully she pushed herself first to a sitting position and then she
stood slowly. When her knees held, she made a step forward. A stab of pain darted
through her temples and she closed her eyes. A small groan left her lips. Great. Just
friggin' great.
Shane left the headlights on and she heard rapid footsteps. "Emma? What's
wrong?"
Confident her legs would hold her, she attempted another step. Her legs wobbled.
"What the—" He must have noticed the rusty-colored moisture on her face, and as
he approached, she heard him inhale sharply. "Oh, my God."
She took another step toward him and her legs gave way. Before he could reach her,
she fell to her knees.
"Emma!" The alarm in his voice scared her. As he dropped to his knees in front of
her, his hands came up to cup her face. "You're hurt."
"I'm okay." Her voice sounded like a feathery wisp. For a wild, dreadful moment,
she imagined there was blood in her throat.
Gently he ran his fingers lightly through her hair, apparently looking for her injury.
Genuine fear and concern narrowed his eyes. "What happened? Who did this to you?
Was it Wilder?"
"No." She swallowed hard. "I don't know who it was. I was going to leave a note
on the door when someone came up behind me." He touched the sore spot on the left
side of her head and she winced.
His hand came away bloody. He cursed. "We've got to get you to the hospital."
"No."
"Damn it, Emma, you have a head injury." His voice was gruff, irritated. He ran his
hands down her arms, then around to her rib cage. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"I'm okay," she whispered.
His brows speared downwards, thunder in his gaze as he gripped her upper arms.
"Are you crazy? Don't you see now why I want you out of this and off the site? It's
dangerous."
She shook her head but stopped because it made her head throb wildly. "And I
suppose it's my fault because some lunatic is running around attacking people in the
campground," she said, lacing each word with pain, anger and sarcasm.
"Fuck it, Emma. You could have been killed."
Tears welled in her eyes, and she struggled to hold them back. She wouldn't cry.
She wouldn't.
"Emma—" His arms came around her, and he pulled her against him. She let her
head rest on his shoulder and she shuddered against him, cold. "It's okay. I'm going to
call the police and an ambulance."
Police and ambulance. She remembered a similar scenario a few years back, her
body bruised and her soul penetrated by fear. "No. Can we…um…can you take me to
the hospital instead?"
He frowned and brushed a long tendril of hair back from her face. "Yeah, I can do
that."
Before she could protest he stood, then reached down for her, pulling her to her
feet. She let out a squeak of surprise when he lifted her up in his arms.
"Be still," he said when she squirmed. He walked toward the truck. "God, I knew
you'd be a lot of trouble the first moment I saw you."
His tone held a husky tenderness and she decided she could grow to like the sound
of it against her ears. His strong arms gripped her firmly, and he carried her as if she
weighed nothing. She held on, her senses spinning from either his nearness or the blow
to the head. Neither alternative seemed favorable.
Shane set her down next to his truck but kept his arm around her waist. He helped
her climb into the truck, and she immediately leaned her head back on the seat and
closed her eyes.
As they pulled away from Grant's RV, he touched her hand. "Hey, don't go to
sleep. Stay awake."
"I don't think I could sleep through this pounding headache."
He squeezed her hand. "Just hang on to me, sweetheart."
Sweetheart. The endearment could have sounded odd coming from a big, strong,
undeniably sexy man like Shane. Instead, laced with a rough, husky tone, it made her
feel cherished and special.
Shane squeezed her hand gently. "Talk to me."
And she hung onto his hand as if it were a lifeline.
* * * * *
Waiting was hell.
No, it was more than hell. It was excruciating.
Shane had never been in the emergency waiting room of the small hospital in
Gambit Creek, and he hoped he never had to do it again.
He tossed the magazine he'd tried unsuccessfully to read onto the end table next to
him. He twiddled his thumbs and noticed smears of Emma's blood on his hand and on
his clothes. Mud spotted his jeans. Thinking about how mud caked her entire body
made him want to kill somebody. Pure fury rushed through him and the rage bunched
his muscles with tension. If Wilder were in any way responsible for Emma's injuries,
he'd tear the idiot into little pieces.
He laid his head back on his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. The small
television in the corner played an old rerun of Andy Griffith. Wearily he looked at the
clock on the wall. Two o'clock in the morning.
He rubbed his temples. Other than an older woman with a kindly face, he was the
only other person in the waiting room. She smiled and he managed a tentative grin. He
needed to know if Emma was all right. The worry ate at him every minute.
Then he would tell her in no uncertain terms that she wouldn't work on his land
again, and she would go back to Denver. Nothing else would assure her safety. While
his suspicions that she might be involved in something underhanded had disappeared,
allowing her to continue the dig was out of the question.
He paced the waiting room, his anxiety rising. How long could an examination, x-
rays and CAT scan take?
One of the emergency room nurses had promised to tell him the results of the
examination. Still, it had been a long, long time since he'd driven up to the ER, his tires
squealing as he'd come to a halt. Emma had remained conscious during the trip to the
hospital, but he'd carried her into the ER. She'd protested and the memory of her
stubbornness made him smile. At least if she balked he knew she couldn't be seriously
hurt.
As he took a shaky, cleansing breath, some of the knots in his stomach released
their relentless hold. Despite his reluctance to think about it, memories of other times
unmercifully pushed to the forefront.
His mother.
Lying on the couch at home, her face turned away from him so that he couldn't see
the purple bruise that rose on her cheek. The tears that had rained from her blue eyes
when she'd seen him standing there. The way she'd held her hand out to him.
He closed his eyes tightly as the painful memory swept him, blazing through like
fire.
His mother pleading with him to stop as he'd stormed through the house to find his
father. At nineteen Shane had already developed into a tall, powerful man and he'd
he'd beat him to a bloody pulp.
Tonight he'd almost acted the same way. Had almost run out of the hospital to start
tracking down the bastards who'd hurt Emma. He'd managed to rein in his savage
need for revenge.
He'd never gotten retribution against his father.
But he'd been content to leave his grievances behind when his father had died.
When Shane had left the agency four years ago he thought he'd started a new life.
He'd been wrong.
His gut twisted tight with another memory. Blood smeared on Emma's pale
features. Sheer panic had slammed into him when he'd seen the blood, and when she'd
started to fall, he'd thought his heart would stop. Rage had run through him like a raft
plunging through rapids.
He stood up and went to the front desk. He let the nurse there know he'd be
outside on his cell phone if any news about Emma came through. Once outside, he
walked into the parking lot and found his car. A brisk wind tried to tear out the tie
holding his hair back, but he ignored the cool sting against his face.
He reached for his I-Doc. He dialed in his agent code and it put him in instant
contact with the agency, and within a few short moments the operator at the agency put
him in touch with Dorky.
"Damn it, Shane, it's late," she said. "What's up?"
Her sleepy voice held a husky tone, but his normal male reaction to such a sultry
voice disappeared under the urgency he felt. "I didn't think you slept much."
"I don't. Now why are you calling in the early morning hours? Is something
wrong?"
"Very wrong." He explained what had happened, filling her in on the last day.
"Oh dear," she said.
Annoyance made him snap out his next words. "Oh dear? That's all you have to
say?"
"Easy, cowboy."
"Something weird is going on here. Emma's hurt, Wilder isn't anywhere to be
found."
"I'll contact Section Chief Mac Tudor."
He'd gotten along well with Mac who had once been an agent but now headed a
section of divisions at the agency. "Why?"
"Because he'll need to reinstate you formally."
"What?"
"You knew this could happen. Mac said something to me yesterday that we might
need to reinstate you."
"Fuck that."
"Shane—"
"Come on. There's got to be someone else who can deal with this. You have other
agents in Colorado well qualified to handle something like this. Hell, bring on the
whole damned black ops unit. I've got a bad feeling about this, Dorky. This isn't
necessarily a one-man job. If the Shadow Realm has something to do with what is
happening—"
"You know it does."
"No, damn it, I don't know. I've got no proof."
"And you won't go to the mine to prove it."
"Of course not."
Silence settled over the phone before she finally said, "Shane, you wouldn't have
called me if you didn't want to be reinstated. And you're one of the very best agents we
have. The black ops unit is on assignment right now."
That stopped him cold in his tracks. For a moment the world seemed clearer,
brighter. Night stars glittered like tiny diamonds against the black velvet sky. Cool air
sluiced into his lungs and reminded him to take another breath. Damn it all to hell if
Dorky wasn't right.
"Shane?"
He closed his eyes. "Yeah?"
"You're a fabulous agent. What happened to you four years ago wasn't your fault."
"Opinions vary."
She sighed. "This isn't just about what happened then, is it? It's Emma. You're
getting involved with her. You care about her and want to protect her."
Her question was soft, intruding on his personal thoughts in a way he couldn't
argue with and yet wanted to resist.
He opened his eyes. "So what? I find her attractive. It doesn't mean anything."
"My, you work fast."
He gritted his teeth. "It's not exactly like that. I'd be concerned about anyone caught
up in this when they don't understand the forces they're dealing with."
"Right." Her tone held disbelief. "Don't think that Mac will pry into your love life.
Sure, it's the unspoken policy that agents shouldn't get involved with anyone on a case,
but we all know that doesn't stop most people—"
"I'm not a fucking agent yet."
"You will be. You want to be reinstated, and that's a good thing. That's all Mac will
care about."
Old fear he thought he'd banished long ago slithered through him. "I don't know if
I can do this again."
"Sure you can. You were an agent for a lot of years."
He let that idea sink in, though he didn't acknowledge a belief in it. He felt the
water closing over his head. "I take it Mac will call me when I'm officially reinstated."
"Affirmative."
He sighed in resignation and stirrings of an anger he wished he could control.
"Okay."
"Mr. O'Donnell?"
The light female voice came from the emergency room entrance, and he turned to
see the nurse. He spoke into the phone. "I have to go."
"Take it easy, Shane."
He turned off the phone and walked up to the nurse quickly. "How is she?"
The nurse smiled. "She's fine. She does have a slight concussion, but it's not serious.
The doctor wants to keep her overnight for observation. If she remains stable she can
leave tomorrow morning."
He sighed heavily, relieved. "Can I see her?"
She nodded and told him where he could find Emma. When he reached her room,
he opened the door slowly, almost afraid of what he would see. She was lying on a bed
under the covers. He could see they'd put her into a blue hospital gown.
She didn't move or open her eyes, and he watched her, appalled at how vulnerable
she appeared. Under the blanket she looked small, an amazing feat considering her
height. A bandage covered part of her left temple.
Suddenly her eyes opened and he saw the apprehension in her, the mistrust that
lurked behind her eyes. He'd seen that look in people's faces before and hadn't given a
shit. Now it mattered way too much.
"Hey," he said softly and moved to her side.
"Hey. What are you still doing here?"
"You look better."
"You're a master at not answering questions, did you know that?"
He shrugged. "One of my many dubious qualities." He lightly touched her cheek.
"How do you feel?"
"Sore." A smile shimmered across her lips. "I can't wait to get out of here."
"Tomorrow morning." He reached for her arm and pressed it, lingering gently with
his fingers. Her soft, warm skin brought an extra surge of desire to shield her. At all
costs. "Do you believe me now when I said you shouldn't get involved in this…that you
should go back to Denver?"
She sighed. "I'm not going back to Denver now. Something strange is happening in
relation to the excavation."
Shane put his hands on his hips and turned away, daunted by her intractable
persistence.
"Shane?"
He turned back to her, willing himself not to feel the impact of looking at her lying
there, hurt.
"W
hy were you at the campground tonight?" she asked.
"Because I wanted to catch up to you and give you back the rest of your shocking
red underwear."
Her face reddened slightly. "I don't believe you. You have motivations and secrets I
don't understand. And it's damn frustrating."
"Don't you ever believe in letting things just stay as they are?"
"I used to. But this situation has changed my mind." She lifted a hand to her
forehead and held it there.
Concerned, he touched her shoulder. "You okay?"
Emma smiled again and his heart did triple time. A surge of energy took the
exhaustion from his system.
Dropping her hand back to her side, she let her smile dissolve. "I'm fine. And as
soon as I get out of this damn hospital I'm going back to the site and find out what is so
important that Grant has disappeared because of it."
"No."
Her lips thinned. "It's possible that Grant is in some sort of trouble. What if he's
been hurt?"
Shane felt his blood pressure rise at that mention of the man's name. Could she
possibly harbor some affection for that dirt bag? "What do you care about him? He's
treated you like crap."
She nodded. "Yes. After this excavation is complete, and after I find out what is
going on, I'm quitting the company."
He should have guessed. Like a tenacious terrier with a bone, she'd continue
nibbling at that meat until she got every last morsel.
"But not before?"
She shook her head. "No."
He made a decision, one he figured he might regret after Emma disappeared from
his life. If he had to hog-tie and wrestle her she would go back to the ranch with him
when she left the hospital. With him she'd be safe.
But he knew that asking her to come home with him was too simple. He moved
closer to the bed. "I'm not everything you think I am, Emma."
* * *
Chapter Nine
A knock on the entrance to the room startled Emma, and she looked past Shane to
see Officer Reddins opening the door. The man had an uncanny knack of appearing at
inopportune times.
"Sorry to interrupt," Reddins said, stepping into the room. "How are you feeling,
Emma?"
She smiled. "My head hurts, but other than that, I'm fine."
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