Up In Flames (10 page)

“You’re losing a lot of blood,” Zack said in his calm, professional voice, but Mick heard the concern, the anger, as his friend began first aid.

“Don’t let her get away.” Mick meant to say it loud and clear, an order that couldn’t be ignored. But the words emerged as a faint whisper, and that infuriated him. He’d finally met her—sort of—and he sounded weak, looked weak.

At the moment, he was weak. Too weak.

But she’d felt so good beneath him for that brief, charged moment, adding to his adrenaline rush, further arousing him though they’d been in the middle of a very dangerous situation. It was so absurd, but even as he’d braced for that bullet, he’d been aware of her under him, her ass cuddling his groin, her head fitting neatly under his chin.

He forced his head up and said again, trying for more than a whisper this time, “Don’t let her get away.”

He knew Josh heard him because he leaned closer. “Who?”

“In...the running clothes. Black hair.” That was the very best description he could muster under the circumstances.

Josh looked up, eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd and then settled on someone. He said, “You’ve got it, buddy. Now you just rest. I’ll take care of it.” He got to his feet and stalked forward purposefully, saying in a tone that brooked no argument, “Miss? I need to see you, please.”

And Mick blacked out.

CHAPTER TWO

“Where is she?” The sound of his own voice, foggy and dark and thin, appalled him. Mick tried to clear his throat, but it was impossible.

“Shh,” he heard Zack say. “Take it easy.”

Mick struggled to open his eyes, then wished he hadn’t. What the hell had they done to him? His shoulder didn’t hurt, at least not at the moment, but he felt as if his brain might explode, and every muscle he possessed was sluggish, refusing to cooperate with his brain’s commands.

More cautiously this time, he cracked his eyes open and found Zack on guard at his bedside. Where was Josh? Where was
she?

“The woman?” he asked again, and he sounded like a dying frog.

Zack lifted a glass of water with a straw to Mick’s mouth. He wanted to tell Zack to jam the straw in his ear, but he couldn’t. He gave in to his thirst and took several quick sips. He started to move his arm, and fire burned down his side.
Now
his shoulder hurt. He ground his teeth, hissing for breath.

“The anesthesia is wearing off,” Zack explained. “You’ll be groggy a little longer, but overall you’re fine. They left the bullet in—that’s two for you now, right? Taking it out would only have caused more damage. You lost too much blood already.”

Mick was still registering what Zack had said when his friend leaned forward and growled, not two inches from his nose, “You scared the hell out of me! Don’t you know if you get shot you should stay down? Swinging your arm around that way just encouraged it to bleed more.”

Mick grunted, as much from the pounding in his head as in reply. “Where the hell is she?”

Exasperated, Zack sighed. He didn’t need to ask
She who?
“Josh has been keeping a close eye on her, since right before you passed out and bashed your damn head on the ground. Yeah, that’s why your head feels like it’s splitting. I’m surprised you don’t have a concussion, as hard as you hit. If you didn’t have to be so damn macho, if you’d just tell someone when you were ready to faint—”

“I did
not
faint.” Mick’s voice, his words, were gaining strength, and he grumbled, “I passed out from blood loss.”

“Yeah, well, they look about the same when you drop right in the middle of a crowd.”

It hurt, but Mick narrowed his eyes and said, “Zack? Come closer.”

Zack, filled with new concern, leaned down close.

“Where the hell is she!”

Zack jerked back and grimaced. “All right, all right, you don’t have to bust my eardrum. You said, all ominous cloak and dagger, ‘Don’t let her get away.’ Neither Josh nor I knew if that meant she should be arrested, or if she was the lady you’d been watching for.”

Mick jerked—and the sudden movement squeezed the breath right out of his lungs. Damn, he’d forgotten how badly a bullet hurt. Through clenched teeth, he snarled, “You didn’t...?”

“Turn her over to the cops? Nope. They questioned her, of course, but Josh followed them to the station and then picked her up afterward. She’s fine, just shook up and babbling about you being a hero—no surprise there, I suppose. She claims you took that bullet for her, and she wants to see you, overflowing with gratitude and all that, but, of course, since we didn’t know what the hell was going on...”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Zack grinned. “We collected her for you, but she’s none too happy right now. Josh is more or less, er, detaining her. No, don’t look like that. You know he wouldn’t hurt her. But he’s taxing himself; it’s been over four hours, after all.”

Four hours!
Mick wanted to groan again, thinking of her waiting that long, Josh coercing her into hanging around....

“No,” Zack said, correctly reading his mind, “she didn’t want to leave, she wanted to see you. And she’s not happy when she doesn’t get what she wants. She’s actually—” Zack coughed. “She’s a very determined lady.”

Zack looked at Mick’s IV and added, “Evidently, she wants you.”

That was a revelation, one he could easily live with. His head pounded, but Mick held back all wimpy sounds of distress and said, “Get her for me.”

“Don’t be an idiot! You’re hardly in any shape to start getting acquainted.” Zack stood, towering over the bed. “I assumed once you came to, you’d explain what the hell’s going on, we could then explain it to her, and then we’d let the lady go home so you could get some rest.”

“Do
not
let her leave here alone.” Mick had awakened with a feeling of panic, again seeing that gun aimed at her—just her, no one else, and for no apparent reason. Until he figured things out, he wanted her watched. He wanted her protected.

It pissed him off royally that he had to ask others to do that for him.

“Mick, we can’t just refuse to let her leave.”

Giving Zack a sour look, Mick said,
“Get her.”

“Damn, you’re insistent when you’re injured.”

“And I’ve heard more ‘damns’ from you in the last five minutes than I have since your daughter was born.”

Zack shrugged. “Well, Dani isn’t here to listen and emulate. Besides, it’s not every day I see a friend shot.”

“You say I need to recuperate, Zack?”

“That’s right.”

“So how is it going to help my recuperation when I get out of this bed and kick your sorry ass?”

Zack hesitated before giving in with a laugh. “I can’t fight you now, because you’re already down and I feel sorry for you. If I let you get up and attempt to hit me, you’d probably start bleeding all over the place again and rip your stitches, and I’d have to let you win.” He held up both hands. “Stay put. I’ll find out how soon you’ll be moved to your room and when Delilah can join you.”

Pain ripped through his shoulder as Mick did a double take. “Delilah?”

Zack stared. “Don’t tell me you didn’t even know her name.”

“So?” Learning her name hadn’t been his top priority. Touching her had, and he’d accomplished that while also protecting her. A nice start, except for the fact that someone wanted her dead, and had shot him trying to accomplish the deed. But he’d figure that one out eventually. In the meantime, he had no intention of letting anyone hurt her.

“So you took a bullet for a complete stranger?”

Very quietly, Mick asked, “Wouldn’t you have done the same?”

And because Zack already had once, long ago, he turned and walked out.

The second Zack pushed aside the curtain and left, a nurse stepped in, ready to check Mick’s vitals and reassure him. She lingered, and Mick couldn’t help but smile at her, despite his discomfort and his current frazzled frame of mind. She was about five years older than he, putting her in her early thirties. She was attractive even in sensible white shoes and a smock. She smoothed his hair, her fingers gentle, while she explained that he’d be there overnight, but would likely leave in the morning, and that they’d put him in his own room very soon.

Still being polite, Mick was careful not to encourage her. He wanted to meet Delilah, wanted to talk to her, hear her voice when she wasn’t frightened, see her smile again. She was the only woman he wanted at the moment, and he was relieved when the orderly showed up and announced it was time to take Mick to his room.

Any minute now he’d meet her, really meet her. And he promised himself that not long after that he’d kiss her...and more. He didn’t know how he’d manage that, all things considered, but he would. He had to taste her, had to stake a claim in the best way known to man.

He discounted his wound. It wouldn’t slow him down; he wouldn’t let it slow him down.

He needed her.

* * *

“I’m capable of walking on my own.”

Josh, the man “escorting” her to Mick’s room, gave a disgruntled sigh and removed his hand from her arm. He’d been pushy and demanding, a total stranger insisting she follow his orders. She’d done so, once she realized he was a friend of the man who’d protected her.

But she didn’t like him, and she definitely didn’t like the distrustful way he loomed over her. He pretended gentlemanly qualities, but she knew he held on to her so she couldn’t get away. She’d already told him a dozen times that she had no intention of leaving.

Not that Josh paid any mind to what she had to say.

He had “slick” written all over him, from the way he held himself to the way he noticed every single female in the vicinity. She understood his type. Josh was one of those men who felt superior to women, but covered that nasty sentiment with charisma and a glib tongue. No doubt, given his good looks and outrageous confidence, women regularly encouraged him.

Del just wanted to get by him so she could meet the other man, the one who’d risked his life for her.

Josh slanted her one of his insulting, speculative looks. “I hope you don’t go in there and give him any grief.”

When she didn’t answer him, he added, “He did save your sorry, ungrateful little butt, after all.”

She could hardly ignore that! Del whirled and stuck a finger into his hard chest. “I know. I was
there,
” she snapped. Her control, her poise and any claim to ladylike behavior were long gone. Today had been the most bizarre and eventful day of her life. “You’re the one who doesn’t seem to understand that I need to see him, that I should have been there with him all along, to thank him—”

He glared at her, rubbed at his chest and walked away. Del had to hurry to catch up to him. A few seconds later they turned a corner, and Josh pushed a door open. “Here we go,” he said. And then under his breath, but not much under, she heard him mutter, “Thank God.”

Through the open doorway, Del could see the occupied hospital bed, and she drew up short. Heavy emotion dropped on her, making her feel sluggish in the brain—which was a first. Her breath caught. Her stomach flipped. Her heart fluttered.

He lay almost flat, his long, tall body stretching from one end of the narrow bed to the other. She remembered his height when he’d covered her, protecting her and all but dwarfing her despite her own height. She remembered the power of him, too, the vibrating tension and leashed strength.

His beautiful, dark brown hair now looked disheveled, spikey from the earlier rain and his injuries and... Her bottom lip quivered with her loss of composure.

He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, though she hadn’t really seen him until he threw himself on top of her and saved her life. At first she’d thought he was with the robbers, and she’d known so much fear she’d actually tasted it.

Instead, he’d taken a bullet meant for her.

Her heart stuttered to a near stop. What kind of man did that? He didn’t know her, owed her nothing. She’d barely noticed him in the store before that.

But when he’d chased the bad guys just like a disreputable Dirty Harry clone, she’d looked him over and hadn’t been able to stop looking. He’d been all hard, flexing muscle, animal grace and speed.

Now he was flat on his back in a hospital bed. She sighed brokenly, choking on her emotions.

He turned his head at the sound she made, and those deep brown, all-consuming eyes warmed. A slight, heart-stopping smile curved one side of his mouth, and he looked sexy and compelling. In a deep, dark voice hoarse with pain, he whispered, “Hi.”

Just like that her heart melted and sank into her toes. There was so much inflection, so much feeling, in that one simple hello. Vaguely, she heard Josh saying, “Delilah, meet Mick Dawson. Mick, Miss Delilah Piper.”

Del paid no attention to Josh, her every thought and sense focused on the large dark man in the bed. In the bed because of
her
. No one had ever done anything even remotely like that for her. Her life in the past few years had been, by choice, a solitary one. Even before then, though, her relationships had been superficial and short-lived—nothing to inspire such protective instincts.

The reality of what he’d done, what he’d risked for her, threw Del off balance emotionally, just as the sight of him stirred her physically.

Without another thought, she moved straight to the bed. Mick looked at her, still smiling, but now with his eyes a bit wider, more alert, a little surprised. She sat near his hip and stroked his face. She
needed
to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin, the lean hardness of his jaw.... Unable to help herself, she kissed him.

Against his lips, she said with heartfelt sincerity, “Thank you.”

He started to say something, but she kissed him again. It felt...magically right; she could have gone on kissing him forever. His mouth was firm, dry. Five o’clock shadow covered his jaw, rasping against her fingertips, thrilling her with the masculinity of it. Heat, scented by his body, lifted off him in waves, encompassing her and soothing her. He tasted good, felt good, smelled good.

A little breathless, bewildered by it all, Del said, “I’m so sorry. It should be me in that bed.”

“No!” His good arm came up, his hand, incredibly large and rough, clasped her shoulder, and he levered her away. For a man in a sickbed, he had surprising strength and was far too quick.

And he looked angry. And protective.

Excitement skittered down her spine, while tenderness welled in her chest.

The door opened again and Zack, the man who was a little nicer than Josh, started in. He jerked to a halt when he saw them both on the bed, nose-to-nose. Startled, Zack began to backpedal, only to change his mind once more when he spotted Josh standing in the corner, smirking.

“Uh, Mick?” Zack sounded ridiculously cheerful and vastly amused. “I see you’re feeling...better.”

Josh chuckled. “I imagine he feels just fine right about now, since she’s in here.”

Slowly, not wanting to upset Mick, Del stood and cast a quick glare at both men. In her fascination with Mick, she’d all but forgotten them and how they’d bulldozed her, refusing her every request, evading her questions.

“I’d have been with you sooner, but they wouldn’t let me,” she said to Mick, feeling piqued all over again. “I didn’t know what was going on or why—”

“Only family could see him before he got to his room,” Zack said, some of his cheerfulness dwindling.

Del had heard the same lame explanation at least ten times, yet Zack had pretty much stayed with Mick, except for when he’d taken a turn guarding her so Josh could look in on him. They were friends, not family, or so they’d told her, so their excuses held no weight. They’d insisted she come to the hospital, insisted she wait around, and then they’d refused to let her do anything useful—like see Mick and thank Mick and...