by Honey Jans
He nodded, looking deep into her eyes. “I never thought you were. Tell me about the man who attacked you. The Scarlet A copycat.”
So that's how skunk breath had gotten away with it; pretending to be a copycat. Shit, Trevor was smarter than she'd given him credit for. She couldn't make the mistake of underestimating him. Oh how she wanted to spill it all, give his name, but she had to follow the rules. Still, a brief description couldn't hurt. “It was such a shock, I'm afraid that I blocked most of it out, but he's got sandy brown hair, gray eyes, and he's probably walking with a limp since I racked him good.”
He smiled. “You racked him?”
“Hard,” she said with a satisfied nod. “I wouldn't be surprised if he seeks medical treatment for his injury.” When Crispin leaned forward, hanging on her every word, she felt as if he was pulling the story out of her. “Oh, and he's a heavy smoker; reeked of it, in fact. And he's not a copycat. It's the same man.” She wanted to call back the words as Crispin's eyes darkened with interest, but it was too late.
“What makes you think he's the same man?” He tilted his head to look at her.
She felt his piqued interest right down to her toes and bit her lip, knowing she'd almost given the game away. Max hadn't told her exactly what the penalty was for cheating, but she knew it would cost her Crispin. She couldn't risk it. She could all but feel Max frowning down at her from above and sighed. “Just a feeling, I guess,” she said, sensing that Crispin didn't believe her. He thought she was holding back—if only he knew. “He said he'd come back for me. You've got to take me to a place of safety if you want me alive to help you with your story.”
“I think the police would do a better job of protecting you than me,” he said, but he was staring at her hard.
“I don't want that sort of protection. I feel they never caught the real Scarlet A Killer, and for all they screwed up, I don't trust their protection now.”
“You don't believe that the man who confessed and killed himself was the Scarlet A Killer? Even though his trailer was filled with articles about the murders? Even though nobody has been killed that way since?”
She knew he shared her doubts—she could feel it—but he wouldn't tap into the psychic part of himself. “No, I don't believe it.” She froze waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike her dead for almost spilling the beans, and when nothing happened, she relaxed back against the pillows.
“Maybe your manager was right. You're not up to this.”
She winced, knowing that Crispin had taken her reaction for fatigue. “I'm fine, and we need to discuss this. I think that the DA just wanted to calm everyone's nerves. He was up for reelection. It wasn't a thorough investigation, and I think the guy who confessed was just a crazy person. The real Scarlet A Killer almost killed me, and the police weren't even all that interested since I'm all right. What's more, I know he'll be back. I want you to protect me.”
Chapter Two
Crispin gazed down at the killer's latest victim, stunned both by her request and the intense way she looked at him, like she wanted more than just his protection. It was as if she couldn't wait to have him touch her, and his hands itched to do just that despite the circumstances. She was pale, hooked up to IVs, and the bruises around her neck were brutal, but he still wanted her. She was dangerous to his sanity.
His gaze swept over her luscious curves anyway, and he couldn't stop his stupid body from responding as his cock swelled. She was perfect, a generous handful of woman, and feisty to boot. But she was definitely not all there. Little wonder, after what she'd been through. He took in the sincere look in her beautiful blue cat's eyes that told him she believed what she was saying. “You've nothing to fear, Ms. Aims. You're safe in the hospital now.” He reached out to take her hand and felt a burning deep inside. Damn. His cock twitched. “The police guarding the door will keep you safe while you recuperate.”
She lay back with a snort. “A lot you know. They protect him…”
“I thought you said you didn't know him,” he said, watching her telltale blush as he exposed her lie. She was hiding something important, and from her suddenly shuttered expression, he could tell that she wasn't very skilled at deception.
“I don't…that is.” She sucked in a breath and met his gaze. “Call it a hunch, women's intuition.”
He felt poleaxed as their gazes met once again and locked, and he felt his gut tighten along with his loins. “A hunch, huh?” She was trouble, but oh what trouble.
“Sure. I'm positive as a journalist and true-crime writer you play hunches all the time.”
Shit, he'd just signed the contract for his debut true-crime book. How did she have that inside information? He hadn't told anyone yet. “How'd you know I was a true-crime writer?”
She shrugged and bit her lip. “I'm psychic.”
Maybe her smarmy ex-manager ex-fiancé was right—she wasn't all there. He tried not to roll his eyes and stood to go. “I'm sure you're tired.” He gazed once more at the purpling bruise around her throat and wanted to kill the fiend who had tried to murder her. “I'll be back to see you in the morning.”
“I'm not tired, I'm terrified. If you don't take me with you, I'll die.”
Her words got to him, even though he knew they were crazy. “Look, lady.” Her narrowed eyes made him sigh. “Haley, you're just suffering from post-traumatic stress. After a few days you'll be fine.”
“No, I won't,” she said, pushing back the covers and swinging her feet off the edge of the bed. “If you want your story, you'll take me with you.”
“Just settle back in bed,” he said, pushing her back against the pillows. She went with a sigh, showing him how shaken she really was. “I'll go speak with the nurses and see when you can be safely released.” Letting her go was hard, but he told himself it was for her own good as he left the hospital room, firmly shutting the door behind him. He stalked down to the nurses' station and found the token police guard chatting up a pretty nurse. Shit, maybe Haley was right, they weren't looking after her properly. He walked up to the cop, saying, “Hey!”
The cop turned to frown at him. “Ya wanna keep it down, buddy? This is a hospital.”
“Yeah, and you're supposed to be guarding the lady down the hall. Do your job, or I'll report you.”
“And just who might you be?” the cop snapped.
“I'm a reporter, and you just let me waltz in there.”
Haley lay there limply against her pillows, waiting for Crispin to come back and spring her. And waited…and waited. As time ticked by, she realized he'd ditched her, damn it. Didn't he know she was his soul mate and protector? She rolled her eyes at her inner thought. Of course he didn't. She sighed. Maybe he'd just been detained. Yeah, right. Still, she had to check. She sat up on the side of the bed, wobbling when her head spun. Damn, whatever they were pumping into her IV was potent.
Steadying herself, she managed to drag herself out of bed and get her bearings. Once that was accomplished, she grabbed the IV pole and steered it toward the door. Opening the door carefully, she cautiously peered outside. The hallway was pretty deserted, and she realized it was the late-night shift. She glanced down toward the nurses' station just in time to hear the elevator button ding and see Crispin get on the elevator.
He was leaving! She wanted to call out to him but didn't want to call attention to herself. Was she making too much of this? Did she really need to be with him? Then she saw a man in a white lab coat sidle up to the nurses' station and grab a file. There was something about the way he moved that chilled her. Trevor. She'd know his troubled gray aura anywhere. Oh Lord, he was coming for her. Her heart raced at the thought.
She could call out to the uniformed officer flirting with a cute blonde nurse, and it would be all over. Trevor would be under arrest. But she knew it came to close to breaking the rules if she directly fingered him to risk it. She'd just have to find a way to bring him down and save herself, and to do that, she had to survive the night.
He
r heart was racing and her breathing too fast, threatening to make her hyperventilate as she grew dizzy. She deliberately slowed herself down, breathing deep, and her head started to clear. She still had time to escape.
She opened the door a little wider and slipped out into the hall, heading toward the end of the corridor, far away from danger. Her hospital gown was flapping in the breeze, giving anyone who cared to look a free show of her bare bottom, but she didn't let that stop her.
Sensing Trevor's bad aura coming her way, she ducked into the stairwell just in the nick of time. Then she peeked out of the door to see him heading toward her room, her file in his hands, looking like he was really supposed to be there. Other hospital employees didn't even seem to notice. It was true she'd have no protection here. She had to run…now.
Gritting her teeth at what she had to do, she peeled off the tape and pulled the IV needle out of her arm. Her knees wobbled at the sting, and she held her thumb over the wound to make it stop bleeding. Then a moment later she was on the move.
Holding the railing, she gingerly made her way down the staircase and, to her relief, didn't run into any employees on the way. How could she explain that she was out for a stroll? Expecting to be caught any moment, she breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the ground floor. Now what?
She opened the door and looked around, spotting the nurses' locker room. Providence seemed to be with her, or maybe it was Max aligning her lucky stars. She darted into the locker room and clicked the door shut behind her. Then she looked around for an open locker and finally found one, wanting to shout with relief when she found clothes inside.
There weren't any undies, but then, she hadn't expected any. She slipped into the other woman's street clothes, jeans that fit her newer fuller figure like a glove, a white blouse that clung to her bigger boobs, and wedge sandals. She saw the woman's purse and thought about fishing out ten bucks for a cab, but couldn't go that far. She'd just have to make it on her own. She glanced at her new reflection in the mirror, smoothing back her long, dark hair, seeing the same old light of adventure in her eyes. She was going to go get her man.
She left the locker room and headed for a side exit, feeling Trevor's frustrated rage descend over her like a wet blanket. He'd found her missing, but he didn't dare say anything without incriminating himself. She had to get away before he found her. She slipped out into the darkened employee parking lot.
Crispin sat in his car outside the hospital parking lot telling himself to go. But memories of Haley begging him to save her tormented him. How could he just walk away from her? Cursing himself for a fool, he yanked his keys out of the ignition and got out of the car. He'd go back and make sure she was safe.
But when he got up to her floor, he saw that all hell had broken loose. The accusations at the nurses' station told him what happened. “Where is she?” he demanded.
The cop glared at him. “Get the hell out of here, or I'll have you arrested for interference.”
Crispin stood his ground, giving him an implacable look.
The head nurse sighed. “She's gone. We found her IV in the stairwell.”
“Damn it. She was right,” Crispin said, turning and racing for the back stairwell. He opened the door to find Haley's IV still standing there, the tubing hanging. Damn, she hadn't had enough strength to do this, or had she? Her insistence that she was in danger replayed across his mind. He turned and headed back to the nurses' station. Either the killer had gotten to her, or she'd managed to run away. “Was anyone in her room?”
“No, just the usual med techs,” the nurse said. “The phlebotomist informed us that she was missing.”
“You don't seem to care.”
The nurse frowned. “Of course we're concerned. We have staff looking for her now.”
His gaze slid toward the cop. “You were supposed to protect her—how could you someone grab her?”
The cop shot him a dark look. “Listen, buddy, we didn't see anyone grab her, much less lurk around her room—nobody but you, that is. If she left, it was under her own power.”
“Bullshit—that's just a lame excuse for your negligence.”
The nurse cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, keep your voices down. You're disturbing the patients. Don't worry. We'll find her. She can't wander far off as heavily medicated as she is.”
“Morons,” Crispin mumbled to himself, shocked at their attitudes.
Maybe there was still time to rescue her. Crispin was heading for his car before the cop could sputter. He saw a familiar face in the lobby. Trevor from the paper, who shot him a sour look and headed into the men's room. Why was he here? he couldn't help wondering. Crispin barely gave the arrogant prick a glance as he raced out into the parking lot. They'd tangled before when Trevor had sexually harassed Kiera before she'd married Jaden and moved away. Then the guy had some kind of breakdown, and Crispin hadn't seen him since.
If Haley was on foot, she couldn't have gotten far. He jumped into his car and drove through the mostly deserted parking lot, not spotting her. It was after visiting hours. Then he had a hunch. If she'd gone down the back stairway under her own steam, she'd probably have taken the nearest exit.
He drove around the hospital to the employee parking lot. Rows of parked cars flanked the lot, obscuring his view. Then he saw a motion toward the back of the lot, almost at the street. A black SUV shot out of nowhere with its lights off and swerved toward Haley. Crispin sat there frozen, knowing there was nothing he could do to save her. At the last moment she jumped behind a parked car as the SUV grazed her and then spun out of the lot.
Crispin's heart started beating again. He slammed his car into park, got out, and ran up to her. Haley was sprawled on the pavement, dressed in jeans and a white blouse that clearly outlined her spectacular breasts and the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. The frightened look in her eyes touched him. She smiled with relief when she gazed up at him.
“I was hoping that you'd come for me.”
Chapter Three
Haley sat sprawled on the pavement, her butt smarting from her collision with the blacktop, her heart still racing from her brush with death as she gazed up at her hero.
“You scared the life out of me,” he said, shaking his head, “and here you sit, looking like an angel.”
She dared a smile up at him, despite his disapproving tone. “More like a fallen angel.” She only hoped a fallen angel could triumph over evil. Her problems faded into oblivion as she took in Crispin's concern. He'd sensed her danger, and he'd come for her. Dare she hope that he was feeling the same soul-deep connection between them? His eyes darkened an instant before he reached for her, making her gasp.
But then he oh so gently pulled her up, and she went with a grimace as her aching body throbbed in protest. Wobbling a little, her soft body collided with his hard one, and she let out a little sob. Damn, he probably hated her getting all girlie and emotional on him.
He pulled her closer into his embrace, his body tightening. “Damn, you are hurt. I'd better get you back to the ER.”
“Don't you dare.” She clung to him, smiling through her tears. She loved hearing that he cared, despite his gruff words. “All I need is you.”
“You sure you're okay?” he asked in a grim tone, running an impersonal hand down her body.
His clinical words hit her like a bucket of cold water, warning her to cool it. Of course he wasn't on the same page sexually yet. Then she pressed against him, feeling the ridge of his arousal against her belly, and relaxed. He wanted her, but he was worried about her. “I'm fine,” she said, stepping back. “But I won't be if you take me back to the hospital.”
He gave her a firm look. “What did you think you were doing, running off in the dark like that? You ought to be spanked for pulling a stunt like this.”
She gave him a flirtatious, surprised smile, blurting out, “Play your cards right, and we might just get around to that eventually.” The flash of heat in his dark eyes made her blush before he got
that remote look on his face again.
He shook his head. “Shit, I ought to have my head examined for even listening to you and thinking of helping you.”
“But you will help me, won't you?” She took a slightly wobbly step toward him, needing to touch him. He stood before her looking so forbidding, but his mask wasn't enough to stop her. She laid her hand on his chest, feeling the heavy beat of his heart. He really had been afraid for her. It was a sign that he cared for her, and she clung to it with all the desperation of a fallen angel fighting for her life. His aura was warm, peaceful, and when she touched him, it flared red, making something combust inside her and her sex cream. “And I never lie, at least not anymore.”
He stroked a finger down her face. “I may be crazy, fallen angel, but I believe you. Get in,” he said, opening the passenger door.
She let him bundle her inside, surprised by his sudden agreement. Hopefully, seducing him would be just as easy. He brushed aside her shaking hands and buckled her seat belt for her, in his gruff, masculine way. Then his hands brushed against her bared midriff, and they both sucked in startled breaths. She stared at his large, work-roughened hands, wondering how they got so calloused, and got carried away with a fantasy of them stroking her bare skin, bringing her to a startling, real-life curl your toes; dampen your panties, orgasm. She shuddered, clamping her legs together to stave off the ripples going through her pussy. Damn, he really would think she was nuts. Flashing a guilty glance his way as he pulled back, she hoped that he hadn't noticed. But the dark, sultry expression on his face told her that he had.
He firmly closed the door before she could say a word, saving her from making an awkward situation worse. She studied him as he strode around the car to the driver's side. He had a drool worthy masculine stride that made her smile. But his watchful gaze as he scanned the parking lot brought her back down to earth. A killer was gunning for her—maybe two killers. Who in blazes had tried to run her down? The obvious name that came to mind was Trevor, the Scarlet A nut job, but somehow it didn't feel like him. It might have been an accident. A hospital employee so tired he couldn't see straight might not have seen her as she staggered along the parked cars. But it didn't excuse the driver from running away, unless he didn't know he'd hit her.