Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Hospital?” I demanded of the man I spied hiding behind a recycling bin.
I used a voice that would not be refused. It didn’t matter if it was fifty kilometers away, I’d use the cash in my wallet to buy the next vehicle I saw, or else the SIG tucked in the waistband of my pants to persuade.
The man replied it wasn’t far, pointed a shaky hand to the west, and spewed out the directions.
“Go,” Jason said, his voice empty. “I need to . . . stay with the body.”
I didn’t consider what that meant. All I was worried about was the woman in my arms, the woman I loved.
37
KARA
My eyelids were heavy and I had to fight to open them. I’d been in and out of it for what seemed like weeks, and now I finally felt lucid.
The hospital room was large and surprisingly elegant with floor-length blue curtains framing a window that announced it was night outside. Beneath that was a couch. Jason sat upright, his head resting on the back of it, asleep. Laurel was on her side, her legs tucked up to her belly, dozing with her head on his lap.
I cracked a smile at this, but it was difficult to focus on any one thing for too long.
My mouth was a desert. My head ached. Only one dim light above me illuminated the room. I was in a hospital gown, an IV in an arm, and there was a steady hum of my pulse monitor. Then came a chime I knew wasn’t related to my hospital equipment, and my breath quickened. I turned my head slowly so I could see him.
What version of Shawn would I get? He wasn’t looking at his phone. No, his gaze was set on me, making it difficult to think.
“Hi.” My voice came out breathy and hoarse.
He wore a suit, this time without a tie, but otherwise he looked the same as the morning he’d found me in my hotel room recovering from my hangover. Gorgeous, dangerous, seductive. But there was another emotion in him today. Relief?
Love?
I lifted a hand to brush the hair out of my eyes—
“I know you probably don’t like that,” he said hushed, as if not wanting to wake our siblings, “but this suite has a family-only policy. This was the only way for me to be here.”
I resumed tucking my hair behind an ear and tried to sort through my competing feelings about the dazzling set of rings on my left hand. Part of me was angry, but the other part . . . didn’t hate it so much, the idea of being married to him.
“Are they real?” They certainly looked real. The large, clear stones glinted back at me as I studied my hand. “Or are they going to turn my finger green?”
He wore a hint of a smile. “Leave them on and you’ll find out.” His eyes were warm again, so different than the last time I’d seen him. “How do you feel?”
I couldn’t help but be honest. “I feel like shit.”
“I’ve certainly seen you look better.” It came out concerned and not teasing.
I tried to remember everything leading up to this moment, but it was hazy. “Is Juric dead?”
“Yes.”
“Did he shoot you?”
“I was wearing a bulletproof vest.”
I nodded, remembering that now. “So, you’re okay?”
His eyes were inescapable, shining in the low light. “I am now.”
I sank back into the bed, letting my eyes fall shut. “How long have I been here?”
“Two days.”
Pieces came back to me, moments I’d been in and out of it here in this room. “We’ve had this conversation before.”
“I don’t mind,” he said softly. “I like talking to you.”
I pressed my lips together. Then I asked the question I’d been wondering since I’d faced him on the lawn right before the gunman had put the bag over my head. “Are you mad at me? At what I did?”
He didn’t answer. My eyes flew open, worried—
Shawn stood at my side and leaned over, one hand on the bedrail between us, and reached for me with the other. His fingertips traced delicately over my cheek, my skin humming from his gentle touch.
“I’m furious,” he whispered against my lips, just before he kissed me.
He must have mistaken my soft sigh for pain, for he pulled back, but I latched on to him, dragging him back into my desperate kiss. I deepened it, forcing him to hunch over further. I didn’t care that it was awkward with my blood pressure cuff on my arm. Or that I surely looked like hell while he looked so damn good.
He was kissing me, and that was all that mattered.
When it ended, our foreheads pressed together and I clung to him, grabbing fistfuls of his expensive suit. A tremble shook my shoulders.
“You’re safe,” he said, stroking a reassuring hand up and down my arm.