Chapter 2 #2
After two years of medical school, he’d followed the path to another calling.
A calling that, ah, did make him highly skilled at killing.
Turned out, he tended to excel in that particular area.
But very few people knew about his real job.
Not like you just made a habit of announcing that you worked for the CIA and that your job was to eliminate the deadliest criminals in the world.
And that job brought me to Kurt Wellington. A man with some seriously shady ties. A whole lot of suspicion was aimed at Kurt. Enough suspicion that, when Nash had realized Delaney was marrying the man—well, he’d had to act. Can’t let her marry him. Can’t let her be hurt.
Can’t. Won’t.
But he couldn’t say those things to her, dammit.
It’s a good thing Agnes called me. Though my sister has no idea I was already planning to stop the wedding.
He’d gotten to the church so fast because he’d already been heading to Delaney.
The minute he’d seen the surveillance photo of Kurt that had included a pic of his bride-to-be, the minute Nash had recognized Delaney’s delicate features…
That was the minute when my world stopped spinning.
“Let’s get back on the motorcycle, and let’s get as far away from here as we can,” she implored, her touch scorching through him.
His black jacket hung open, and her fingers pressed to the dark t-shirt that he wore.
One that was old and thin and, hell, yes, he could feel the heat of her touch through the fabric.
His body had always been far too sensitive, too attuned, to Delaney.
Once upon a time, Delaney had been his sister’s best friend. She’d also been his not-so-secret obsession.
And now…now…
Stop thinking about what her touch does to you. The woman just told you that she’d basically been kidnapped and that her groom wanted her dead. “You need to contact the cops.”
“I can’t contact the cops here. They are on Kurt’s payroll. That’s why we have to get away. It’s not safe here. Kurt will hunt me. If he finds me, he’ll drag me back, and I’m afraid that he’ll hurt you!”
Nash snorted. “Yeah, I’d like to see him try.”
“I wouldn’t.” She pulled her hands away from Nash.
And why had she done that? He’d enjoyed her touch. Always had. Always would.
“I don’t want you hurt at all.” Definite, determined words from Delaney.
“So how about you drive me out of this place? How about we just start driving and we don’t stop until the sun is up?
Then I can regroup, I can call Agnes, and I’m sure she can help me out.
” A brief pause. “I-I know you probably have your own life to get back to. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you than necessary. ”
Trouble? Walking into that church and seeing her poised to marry that jackass had completely wrecked his world. But now…
Now…
She’s in danger. She needs protection. She needs me. “I’m the man for the job.”
“Excuse me?”
He wanted to see her in the light. It had been far too long since he’d been able to drink in Delaney.
Did she still have the sprinkle of freckles across her nose?
Did her hazel eyes still sparkle and shift, seeming to reflect her mood?
Become lighter, more golden when she was happy and a deep, turbulent brown when she was sad or angry?
Did her dark hair still catch the light and reflect those nearly hidden, red highlights?
“The man for what job?” Delaney asked him, and then, he was pretty sure that she shivered.
Not that the night was particularly cold. It wasn’t. They were up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, on a winding road in North Carolina, and it was late spring. The night was brisk, not cold, but she didn’t have on sleeves, and he had cut off half of her dress.
He shouldered out of his jacket. Handed it to her.
She didn’t take it. “What are you doing?” A suspicious question.
“Trying to keep you warm.”
“I am warm.”
“Then why are you shivering?”
Her chin notched up. A defiant motion he’d seen a hundred times in the past.
A soft sigh slid from him. “I stopped because you needed a helmet.” He hadn’t taken the time to give her one at the church, mostly because the dumbass groom had been giving chase. Nash had also still been furious because the fool in the front row had drawn a gun.
“That’s not a helmet. It’s your jacket.”
He was aware. Since she wasn’t taking it, he put it on her.
Of course, the jacket swallowed her, but that was the point.
“The jacket is black, so you won’t be as big of a target in the white dress.
” The heavier fabric of the coat covered the satin of her dress.
He went back to the bike, bent near the saddlebag, and scooped up the helmet that he should have given her sooner.
He returned to Delaney, slid it over her head, and tightened the chin strap.
“You’re not dying, Delaney.” His head lowered toward hers. The visor of the helmet was up.
“I really don’t want to die, Nash. And that’s why we need to get out of here. We should cross the state line. I don’t exactly know how far Kurt’s reach extends, but getting over the state line feels like a good start. Then I can call Agnes, and I can get some Feds to help me out.”
Because she didn’t think he could keep her safe? Insulting. But, then again, she didn’t know what he was capable of doing for her. “No one is hurting you.” Not on his watch.
“And no one is going to hurt you, either,” she fired back immediately. “I don’t want you getting pulled into my battles. No sense in you getting hurt because you’re being a good guy and helping out an old friend.”
Her words had him frowning. “You’re wrong.”
She fiddled with the edge of his jacket. “About what?”
“I’m not a good guy.”
Delaney laughed. Soft. Musical. Sweet. A sound that he’d never been able to forget. A sound that had haunted him because it reminded him of what he’d lost. “Of course, you’re good, Nash. You’re a doctor. You save lives.”
No, he was a spy. And, on more than one occasion, he’d taken lives. They would get to that truth, but not right this second. He’d rather not have her more terrified than she already was. “And we were never friends.”
She sucked in a breath and took a step back. “That hurts, Nash.”
“You were a virgin, and I fucked you until you screamed for me. I don’t think that qualifies as friendship.” He’d fucked her on her nineteenth birthday. Right after she’d blown out her candle. He’d asked her what she’d wished for.
You.
She’d been all he ever wanted. No way could he hold back after that admission from her.
But, now, before him…
She retreated. Another fast step back.
Too bad for her, he wasn’t letting her get away. Not this time. Not ever again. His hand slid out and curled around her wrist.
She hissed out a breath.
Immediately, he let her go. Because he knew the sound of pain when he heard it. “I…hurt you?”
“Damn right, you did.” A fast response. “We were friends, you jerk. Don’t ever say that we weren’t!
For a time, you knew me better than anyone else on the entire planet.
And then everything changed. You changed.
” She pointed to the motorcycle. “Can we get going? Trust me, I am grateful for the save tonight. I seriously owe you my life, but I want to get out of here.”
He climbed onto the motorcycle. She slid on behind him. Her hands curled around his waist as he got the engine snarling to life.
“And it was not very gentlemanly to point out the whole virgin and screaming part,” she said, sniffing.
He laughed. “Sweetheart, I was never a gentleman.” But I am one damn fine killer. And I will keep you safe from the bastard on your trail. “Hold tight,” he told her, and then they raced into the night.
“You’re falling asleep.”
Her eyes opened. Groggily. Slowly.
“We’re stopping for the night. It’s either stop or tie you to my body so you don’t fall off the bike, and I think the better option is to stop, don’t you?”
She craned her head, trying to look around Nash and figure out where in the world they were.
VACANCY.
Her gaze caught the blinking, red sign near the glass window of what appeared to be a check-in office. An office of one seriously shady motel. Shady because rooms were advertised as being available for the night or for the hour.
“Where are we?” she muttered.
“Stay on the bike. When I go in, I will be able to see you every moment.”
Uh…
He was already off the bike. Marching toward the check-in office.
Her gaze darted around the lot. No one else was out.
What time was it? It felt as if they’d driven forever, but she knew they’d probably only been on the road a matter of hours.
Four hours? Five? And had they gotten out of North Carolina and made it to somewhere else that would be much, much safer for her?
He came back. Walking all casually and confidently. He slid in front of her, and she tried to ignore the surge of awareness she felt every single time they touched. The bike revved to life, and she felt the vibration all through her body.
Yes, she’d been sleepy. How could she not be? She’d been close to collapsing, but she’d doggedly held on to Nash, and, fine, she was glad they were stopping. Even if their stop was taking them to a no-tell motel.
It was better than nothing.
They could rest for a few hours. Maybe she’d call Agnes when the sun rose. And then she’d go to the Feds, and she’d get help, and Nash could go back to his life.
She’d go back to her life.
He didn’t pull the motorcycle in front of any particular room. In fact, he hid the Harley behind a large, green dumpster. And then he took her hand, holding her fingers in his bear-like grip, and led her to room number seventeen.
A light flickered on and off near the door to their room.
She swallowed as she watched him slide the keycard over the sensor to unlock the door. “Is this going to be one of those one-bed situations?”
His head turned toward her.
The light near the door came on.
She saw his handsome face. The strong lines. The chiseled jaw. The cheekbones that were to die for.
And those eyes…brown and blue…
The light flashed off.
“A one-bed situation?” Nash repeated carefully. He opened the door.
“Um. You know. The motel only had one room left. One room, with one bed. And because of that, we have to share…” She was rambling as she followed him inside.
He shut the door behind her. Flipped the lock. “Do you want to share a bed with me?”
“I wasn’t talking about us, specifically. I was talking about things that happen in books and—”
He turned on the lights. “Two beds.”
Illumination flooded the room, and she could see, yes, two beds. They appeared to be full-size beds. Maybe even queens.
“Didn’t realize you wanted to share a bed with me.” His deep, dark, sexy voice. “I could definitely have requested one king instead of two queens if I’d known.”
“No!” Okay. Way too loud. She tried to tone down her volume. “This is fine. Really. I’m sure your…girlfriend would not approve of a one-bed situation anyway.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
And I don’t have a fiancé anymore.
That did not mean they immediately jumped into one bed together. Nope, it did not. And if she hadn’t just been existing on adrenaline and desperation, Delaney would not even be having the thought. She was just at the end of her rope. That queen-size bed near her was looking far too tempting.
Delaney shrugged out of her borrowed coat and carefully placed it on the back of a nearby chair.
The lone chair in the room. She ignored the threadbare carpeting and the humming that came constantly from the sputtering air conditioning system as she made her way to the bed.
“I think I am going to crash, and…” Her eyes closed in mortification.
“Oh, gosh, I should have said this before.” How could she have not said this before?
Eyes opening, she turned toward him. “Thank you—Nash?”
Her words ended in a cry of surprise because he’d just pounced on her. For a big guy, he could certainly move quickly. He pulled her against him, and then his fingers dipped down her sides and…
“What are you doing?” Delaney gasped. Her hands swatted at him. “This is not a one-bed situation.” They’d covered that!
“You’re fucking bleeding.”
She glanced down at herself. Now she could see the dark red that marred her white dress. “Oh, right. That.”
“That? You were aware of that? Aware that you were bleeding, and you didn’t say anything to me?”
It wasn’t some massive amount of blood. But, yeah, it still didn’t look good. “We needed to escape. Saying something about the knife wound didn’t seem important at the time.”
“Knife…wound?”
Her gaze shot to his face because those words had just been low and exceedingly lethal.
“He took a knife to you?”
Delaney nodded. “I told you, Kurt was going to kill me.” She had told him that, hadn’t she?
The exhaustion pulling at her made things a bit hazy.
“I tried to escape but—Nash!” For the second time in like, two minutes, she cried out his name.
This time, she’d cried it out in shock and surprise because he’d lifted her up and was currently carrying her toward the super tiny bathroom.
They crossed the threshold of the bathroom. He lowered her until her heels touched the tiled floor.
“Strip,” he ordered.
“Uh…”
“Delaney, take off the dress or I will rip it off you.”