Read Hidden Heat: Hauberk Protection, Book 4 Online
Authors: Leah Braemel
“There’s no blood, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“I don’t mind blood.” When it’s someone else’s.
“Mmm.” She wasn’t buying it. “It looks good.” She placed a much smaller, fresh bandage over the wound with chirpy efficiency. “Have you arranged for someone to pick you up today?”
“That would be me.” Scott grinned at Troy’s hand clutching the bedding over his groin.
“Excellent.” The nurse straightened the covers and turned to Scott as if Troy had ceased to exist. “The doctor’s already been to see him and the discharge papers are all set. I’ll run down to the nurses’ station and get the prescription and instructions for care of the wound, shall I?”
Scott stepped aside as she bustled past and caught Troy staring past him. “If you’re looking for a certain blonde, she’s not here.”
“I was checking out the nurse. She’s got a great ass.”
“Liar,” Scott said without any heat.
Troy thumped his head into the pillow. “Yeah. I am.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I fucked up with Sandy. I moved too fast and scared her away.”
“You didn’t blow it. She loves you too.” Scott set a bag on the bed and pulled out a folded pair of underwear along with track pants and socks. “Here, put these on and let’s get you home.”
“Thanks.” He went through the motions of getting dressed. As much as he hated wearing sweatpants in public, they were a hell of a lot easier to pull over the bandage than his jeans would have been. He grabbed the crutches they’d given him earlier and stood. He nearly fell back on his ass as his vision greyed and his head swam at being vertical so quickly. “Let’s get out of here.”
Ignoring the nurse’s startled expression, he stumped toward the bank of elevators. Nurse Perky chased after him, calling his name but he kept walking. Bugger the paperwork. He had to get out of here. Sandy hadn’t phoned him or come with Scott. That confirmed his fears. Despite Scott’s assurances, he’d lost her.
On the drive home Troy stared out the window at the trees coated in the latest snowfall. Despite the sun glittering off the white blanket, the place was drab and dreary. Bugger this. So she didn’t want to hear that he loved her. Screw it. Who needed her? Put her behind you and get on with your life.
Fuck, that thought sucked. He decided to focus on something not Sandy-related. “What happened with Rowlands? He die?”
“Yup. You know how Chad said one of his clients was connected with the mob? Well, apparently he’d given Rowlands a deadline to get his money back. They’re trying to track down who the shooter was and how he’s connected to the case, but they figure he was behind it.” Scott eased the car into the left lane as they approached the condo. “In the meantime the D.A.’s finally putting Mrs. Rowlands into protective custody while they grill her for any information they can get about how he’d been laundering money for the mob.”
“How is Jazz, by the way?”
“Shaken, but she’ll get through it.”
He stayed quiet until Scott pulled into the underground garage. Okay, it had to be said. He took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology, don’t I? It got pretty intense back there and you didn’t fold when I thought you would have. I misjudged you. And I’m sorry.”
Scott shoved the car into park. “Yeah, you did. But Chad’s a good boss and I’m working active cases again, so…”
“Yeah.” So…
Ignoring the throbbing in his leg that had started during the ride over, he followed Scott to the garage elevator. Thankfully Scott wasn’t any more talkative than him. There was no way in hell he could have concentrated on a conversation the closer he got to his unit. The yards between the elevator and his door were far too short and covered far too quickly. At least in the hospital, he wouldn’t have to look at his bed and know Sandy had been there once. He wouldn’t have to smell her perfume or her shampoo on his pillow. Once the smell of her faded, the paint on the walls would be a permanent reminder. Oh, sure, he could paint over it, but he’d now always see his apartment with her lying on his bed, surrounded by his things.
Scott unlocked the door, pushed it open, then stepped aside. “Welcome home.”
He stayed in the hall, unwilling to be assailed by the knowledge of what he’d once had and lost. “It’s not a home. Not without her here.”
“Get your ass inside before you start feeling too sorry for yourself.” When he didn’t move, Scott grabbed his arm and shoved him inside. The door closed behind him, keys jingled on the other side of the door, locking him in.
Troy stumbled to a halt when he saw Sandy standing in the middle of the living room. For a brief moment—one glorious, beautiful moment—he was giddy with relief, beyond happy to see her. Then he remembered the day before and his happiness shattered. She might as well have taken an ice pick and split his chest open. “What are you doing here?”
She flinched and lowered her eyes, her smile disappearing in a flash. “I was worried about you.”
“Not worried enough to meet me at the hospital.” He shrugged out of his coat, trying to ignore the pain in his chest.
“I didn’t figure we could talk there. Not the way we need to.”
“Talk? The time to talk was yesterday, but you ran away like a scared rabbit.” He stumped into the bedroom, exhausted far more than he wanted to show. “It’s obvious you don’t want to be with me and I don’t need your pity so I don’t know what else there is to say.”
Sandy followed him, placed herself directly in front of him. “I do want to be here, and I’m not here because I pity you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run out yesterday.”
He closed his eyes at her statement. It was all well and good for her to apologize but what would happen next time he said he loved her? Because he wanted to say it to her. Over and over again.
”I was a wimp and a coward and I’m so sorry if I hurt you,” she continued. “But you scared me.”
“I told you I loved you. I’ve never said that to a woman before.” Hell, he’d not had anyone to say it to since his mother had died. “You threw it back in my face, and now you stand here…and…and…expect me to forget it happened?”
“I love you too. I know I should have said it back to you but I’ve said it to someone before and it didn’t work out well.”
God, what he would have given yesterday to have heard those words. Why did it feel different hearing them now? He wanted to believe her but he couldn’t set aside her reaction the day before. “I know you don’t want to be tied down but I need those ties. I haven’t had them in so long and I liked them. I liked knowing you were here, waiting for me at the end of a trip. Knowing I’d wake up in the morning and you’d be right there beside me. I’ve never asked a woman to move in with me before. I’ve never trusted anyone enough before.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“How do I know you’ll be there tomorrow? Or the next day? Or the next month? Because I don’t think I could stand losing you again.” He lifted his hand and let it hover a half-inch away from her cheek but couldn’t bring himself to actually close the space between his fingers and her skin. After flexing his fingers, he let his hand drop. “You don’t have to marry me, though I’d be there in a heartbeat if you wanted. I’m not asking you to have kids if you don’t want to. Just be with me. Stay with me. Let me love you.
“But if you don’t want to be with me for the rest of my life, then leave now. Rip the bandage off fast.” It would hurt like hell, but maybe, one day, he’d get over it. Though he imagined that day would be long in the future.
From deep inside her purse, Sandy’s cell phone rang. Instead of digging into her purse, she just stared at him, her beautiful plump lips parted, her eyes soft and glistening. The ringing stopped and immediately started again.
The moment broken, he stepped back and gestured at her ringing purse. “Answer the damned thing, will you?”
With a sigh she retrieved her phone and grimaced. “Hey, Mom.”
He turned away, unable to look at her anymore. Leaving her in the bedroom to hold her conversation in private, he wandered into the living room. But distance couldn’t mute the clear tones of her voice. “I told you, I’m fine.”
The shooting had probably made the news and Mrs. Hallquist was calling to check on Sandy. He’d never had anyone call to check on him before he’d joined Hauberk.
“Are you going to be home this weekend?” Her voice got louder, as if she’d followed him. “I’m thinking of flying up to see you.”
His chin dropped to his chest. So she was leaving.
“I want you to meet my fiancé.”
Her fiancé? Troy whirled to face her, forgetting the wound in his thigh. Ignoring the holy-fucking-crap-that-hurt pain that bloomed in his thigh, he grabbed Sandy’s shoulders. “You want to marry me?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, letting the phone drop to the couch, her mother still talking. “Yeah. I do.”
He picked up the phone and put it to his own ear. “She’ll call you later with all the details, Mrs. Hallquist.”
He clicked off the phone and tossed it back on the cushions. Cushions that hadn’t been there yesterday. Cushions that yesterday had been on the couch at her place. The very same couch that was now right here in his living room. “Where did this come from?”
He glanced around and realized the room now contained a lot of furniture and knickknacks that yesterday had been in her apartment. She’d moved in.
“That’s why I couldn’t meet you at the hospital this morning. Andy and Sam and Rosie and Chad and oh, everyone, helped me move my stuff over here.” She cradled his jaw in her palm. “I love you, Troy. I don’t care whether we live here in D.C. or in London or in a room at the Rouge. I want you in my life forever too.”
The anvil parked on his chest shifted but it didn’t drop completely. “You’re not going to change your mind about this?”
She slowly shook her head. “No. I’m not.”
Her tone was sure and steady, her face clear of any type of guile. “Do you realize how long forever is?”
He closed his eyes when she reached up on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his. “I do—and it won’t be long enough.”
His crutches fell to the floor with a clatter, or maybe it was that damned anvil that had been squeezing all the air from his lungs. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him. “It’s about time you figured that out, Miss Hallquist.”
“Don’t you mean, the soon-to-be Mrs. McPherson?” Her voice raised in question on his last name.
“I like the sounds of that.” Much better than Fitzgerald.
She leaned back and cocked her head to consider him, a devilish glint in her eye that had him bracing.
“Then let’s get you to bed, Mr. McPherson.” She pulled away and picked up his crutches.
“Not sure my leg’s up to much in the way of gymnastics at the moment, sunshine.” Not that it stopped him from following her into the bedroom.
The grin she shot him both filled his chest with love and his groin with expectation. “Figures you’d wimp out on me because of one little bullet wound.” Her smile faded. She walked back to him and rested her head against his chest. “I was so scared I’d lost you.”
He buried his face into her hair, loving how she smelled of flowers and sunshine even in the middle of winter. “You’ll never lose me, Sandy. I’m yours. Forever.”
About the Author
Like most authors, Leah’s always had stories revolving around in her head, talking to her late at night. College, marriage and raising a family had her pushing them aside until a conversation with her eldest son about how he needed to follow his dreams was thrown back at her. One year later Leah was thrilled to get her first contract for her sizzling romance Private Property from Samhain Publishing. In January 2010, the reviewers at The Romance Studio nominated Private Property for their annual Cupid and Psyche Award (CAPA) for “Best Erotic Romance”. Leah was also nominated in the “Best Erotic Romance Author” category. Reviewers have since awarded her books numerous Top Pick and Recommended Reads reviews along with another CAPA nomination for Deliberate Deceptions as “Best Contemporary Romance of 2011”. You can learn more about Leah and her books on her
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Look for these titles by Leah Braemel
Now Available:
Hauberk Protection
Private Property
Personal Protection
Deliberate Deceptions
A little lying and misdirection in the name of love is never wrong. Right?
Deliberate Deceptions
© 2011 Leah Braemel
Hauberk Protection, Book 3
Chad Miller once had the perfect life—a beautiful baby daughter, a loving wife, a promising career with the FBI. Within a year, he’d lost everything. Making Hauberk Protection a success salvaged his career, but he’s never managed to get over the one fateful decision that spelled the end of his marriage. And the death of his child.
For eight years, grief and guilt have haunted Lauren Miller’s climb up the ranks of the Light Brigade, a secret international hostage rescue team. Now she’s the target of a vengeful ex-Brigade operative who’ll stop at nothing to take her down. Even if it means taking out everyone she cares about. Including Chad. Getting him to accept her as his bodyguard? It’ll take some fast talking—and faster hands.