Читать книгу Lone Star Knight - Cindy Gerard, Dianna Love, Шеррилин Кеньон - Страница 11

The quick plan Matt had hatched to get Helena out of the hospital without being bombarded by the press was simple and effective—if reliant on a little sleight of hand. After pressing the call button to summon a nurse—who, upon hearing him out, was not only game but also excited by the prospect of a little intrigue involving a princess and the daughter of an earl—they set it in motion.

As expected, when the door to Helena’s hospital room opened and Greg, with Anna by his side carrying Helena’s overnight bag, wheeled the chair out into the hall, the paparazzi swarmed like piranhas around the woman bundled from head to toe in a hooded bathrobe.

Inside the room, Matt and Helena listened to the commotion. Matt watched her face and told himself he wasn’t indulging in the look of her after a month of watching her from a distance. As he’d intended, she’d never been aware that he’d been standing guard. Just as she hadn’t needed the extra stress of knowing she faced a potential threat added to her already difficult recovery, he hadn’t needed the complications that getting to know her better would surely bring.

From the moment he’d met her, his physical reaction to her had been far too intense. His interest, much too strong. Just because he was finally face-to-face with her, just because her eyes were a deeper shade of blue than he’d remembered, the silk of her hair as lustrous as spun gold, her face and body the epitome of a heroine in a romantic novel, it didn’t mean he was going to change his game plan now.

All he had to do was get her safely away from the hospital, settle her at the Hunts under the 24/7 guard he’d arranged, and he’d be back to business as usual. And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She said nothing as she sat on the edge of the bed, but the tight set of those beautiful full lips betrayed her tension. The solemn-eyed intensity of her gaze, never wavering from the closed door, spoke volumes about nerves that were strung drum-tight as the reporters’ voices reached them from the hall.

“Lady Helena! Look up! Lady Helena! Over here! Give us a smile for the public who wants to know how you are.”

She flinched at the sound of her name, and he couldn’t help it. He reached out. Touched a hand to her shoulder, gave it a reassuring squeeze as Greg’s voice boomed down the hall.

“Back off, Herkner,” Greg growled at the reporter from the American Investigator, a sleazy tabloid that put the other rags to shame in the exploitation department. “Give the lady a break. And give the other patients on the floor a break, too. Let us get her out of the building and she’ll give you a few words and a chance to shoot some photos.

“Or don’t back off,” Greg baited, the dare in his voice unmistakable, “and we’ll let the ER docs practice a little triage on your ugly face. Your call, of course.”

Matt looked toward the closed door, very much aware of the history between Willis Herkner and Greg Hunt. The reporter had hounded Anna during the Striksky affair. Obviously, Greg held a grudge. More obviously, Herkner was hamburger if he tested those particular waters.

When the racket quieted to a hushed din, telling Matt his plan was working and Greg and Anna were leading the press from the floor, he turned back to Helena.

She was pale and shaken and trying valiantly to keep herself together.

He hunkered down in front of her. “Hey…you okay?”

She worked over-hard to gather her composure and grace him with a look that tried to make a lie of the fact that she was far from all right. “Of course, darling,” she said in that cool, regal tone that dismissed his concern as unnecessary. “It’s just such a bother, isn’t it?”

“And then some,” he agreed, trying to get a read on her, knowing there was more going on behind those brilliant blue eyes than she wanted him to see.

“Look,” she said, all starch and breeding and a bit of impatient prima donna that didn’t quite ring true, “I don’t know why you’re here. And frankly, I don’t care. Just get me out of here. Please,” she added with enough entreaty that he knew she wasn’t as blasé about all of this as she’d like him to think.

He tipped his fingers to his hat brim and because he felt she needed one, he gave her a reassuring smile. “At your service, my lady.”

She smiled then, too. A real smile, not one he suspected she’d used on the public to hide everything from boredom to pain to fear.

“What’s next?” she asked after a steadying breath.

“What’s next is that we sneak you out the rear entrance without catching anyone’s attention.”

And that was going to be no easy feat. He’d been afraid that her release would come to this. The media circus it created wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that her visibility increased her vulnerability. He wasn’t about to give anyone but the people he trusted access to her.

All he needed to do was transport her safely out of the hospital and deliver her to the Hunts. Greg was a fellow Cattleman’s Club member and Matt knew she’d be safe with him and Anna at their ranch until the mystery behind the jewel theft and Riley’s murder was cleared up, and he was certain she was out of danger.

She’d also be out of his line of sight at the Hunts’. Maybe then, she’d be out of his mind, too. Right, and a cactus didn’t have needles. Regardless of where she was in proximity to where he was, he was afraid he’d be seeing those big baby blues for a long time to come.

He drew a deep breath, got back to business. They had to get moving. He eyed her cast. “Can you walk in that thing?”

“I suppose that would depend on your definition of walk. Hobble might better describe it,” she admitted with something close to an apology in her eyes.

He stood. “Hobble’s not going to cut it, I’m afraid.” He scrubbed a palm over his jaw, gave her a considering once-over. “So we improvise.”

Careful of her injuries, he scooped her from the bed and into his arms. She felt good there. Too good. So good, he knew he had to do something to get his mind off the sudden, unplanned intimacy.

“Whoa,” he teased and settled her more securely against his chest. “Not exactly a featherweight, are you?”

Actually she was a sleek and silky armful. His heart kicked into overdrive—not so much from the exertion as from the softness of her breast snuggled hot and full against his chest. It was not the reaction of choice, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to dwell on it. What he was going to do was make the lady relax. Another one of those smiles wouldn’t be too tough to take either.

With staged effort, he shifted her higher in his arms and made a big show of being staggered by her slight weight.

“It’s the cast,” she assured him with a tight little scowl and looped her left arm around his neck. “And the case,” she added, referring to the clear plastic case she cradled in her lap that appeared to be filled with the home-going medical supplies.

He grunted for good measure. “If you say so.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, get over it. I thought you cowboy types were supposed to be big and strong and well…heroic.” She glared down that titled little nose of hers in such a regal, aristocratic attempt to look huffy it was all he could do not to laugh.

“Begging your pardon, Lady Helena, but I’ve bulldogged steers that weighed less than you.”

She forced a tight smile, but her eyes held absolutely no trace of amusement. “That just makes my day, doesn’t it? I’ve been compared to a lot of things but never livestock. How charming.”

He grinned, but, still aware that she was far more nervous about this business than she was letting on, made sure she understood she could count on him. “It’s going to be all right. You can trust me, okay?”

When those expressive eyes held his gaze, and she softly murmured, “I do,” a long-repressed Tarzan gene made him want to beat his chest and carry her off to some vine-covered treetop hideaway. Since, for more reasons than one, that wasn’t an option, he gave her a quick wink instead and headed for the door.

The hall was devoid of reporters as they slipped cautiously out of the room. He shook off the floor nurse’s offer of another wheelchair and carried Helena to the bank of elevators marked Staff Only. Once at ground level, he negotiated a series of twists and turns as he carried her through the hallways to the rear exit.

“You seem to be rather good at this skulking business.” She tightened her arm around his neck. “Makes one wonder if there might be a bit of a shady past one might need to get a bit nervous about.”

He ignored the warmth of her, the woman scent of her and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. “Old American saying—One shouldn’t look a gift rescuer in the mouth.”

She gave a delicate little sniff. “Oh, by all means, rescue away. You’ll get no resistance from me.”

He smiled. “Here’s where we see just how good a sleuth I really am.” He rounded the last corner and the rear exit came into sight. “It’s show time. Cross your fingers, countess. We’re going to make a run for it.”

“I’m not a countess,” she said breathlessly as he shouldered through the revolving door and sprinted down the steps.

“Close enough.” He looked both ways and made a break for the parking lot. “My pocket,” he said, striding along the asphalt. “See if you can fish my keys out of my pocket.”

Bad idea, he realized belatedly as her small, seeking right hand stole down, felt around for his trouser pocket opening and finally slipped inside. He suppressed a groan as the warmth of her fingers connected with his hip, then his thigh, then, oblivious to what she was doing to him, accidentally brushed something else that threatened to stand at immediate attention.

With steel will, he ignored all the pulse-altering groping going on south of his belt buckle. At least he tried to.

Way too late—or way too soon—she gave a victorious tug and pulled the keys free.

“I got them.”

“Thank you, Jesus, Joseph and Mary,” he muttered through gritted teeth, and sincerely hoped she hadn’t noticed what she had unintentionally done to him.

“Click the lock release.”

Her slender right hand gripped the keyless remote, the tip of her index finger poised on the red button. “This one?”

“That’s the—” horns and sirens bleated into the relative stillness in absurdly loud and frantic blasts “—alarm,” he finished unnecessarily.

Wide blue eyes met his with startled comprehension. “Oops.”

He glanced over his shoulder to see what kind of attention they’d attracted—and caught her expression instead.

She looked a little mortified and a lot fearful of getting caught. What could he do but smile at her and try to make that look go away?

“It’s not a problem, okay? It’ll just make our getaway more interesting. I’m going to set you down now. Can you support your weight on one leg for a second?”

“Considering that in your estimation I weigh roughly the same as a Hereford,” she enunciated over the irritating drone of the alarm, “it will be a challenge, but I’ll give it my all.”

He hugged her then. He hadn’t meant to. He knew she would bristle right up at the notion, but she was just so darned cute with her upper-crust attitude and her put-upon pride that he acted before he thought, and then it was too late to do anything but make nice.

She merely blinked at him, big and bright and, if he chose to believe it, a bit shyly.

With another glance over his shoulder, he relieved her of the keys, neutralized the alarm, and hit the lock release. “In you go.” He quickly opened the passenger door.

Very carefully, he helped her get comfortable then stowed her bag in the back seat. “Do we need to put that foot up?”

“It’s fine. Let’s just get out of here before they figure out they’ve been fooled.”

“I’m with you on that one.”

He sprinted around the vehicle, jumped in and slammed the door behind him. “Fasten your seat belt and hang on to your hat. We may be in for a wild ride.”

A long beat of silence passed. “Well,” she said quietly. “I’d like to do both. The problem is, I don’t have a hat. And at the moment, I’m afraid that seat-belt issue is beyond me, too.”

One hand on the wheel, the other on the ignition, he glanced her way—then realized his insensitivity. She couldn’t fasten the belt.

From the moment he’d walked into her room, he’d not only been profoundly aware of her as a woman, but he’d sensed a self-consciousness about her hand that he suspected she’d never admit to. He’d tried not to stare, but now he did and fully realized what she was up against. Her left hand was covered in a snug, protective mesh glove, her fingers extended at a stiff, unnatural angle.

When she cupped her injured hand protectively with her right, he could have kicked himself.

“I’m sorry.”

Her chin notched up a fraction. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not you who can’t manage this contraption.”

No. It wasn’t him who couldn’t manage, although there were a few things giving him his own share of trouble at the moment. One of them was that kissable mouth of hers. It was lush and full and just begging for someone to kiss her and make it all better.

He couldn’t make it better though. And kissing her was out of the question. His job was to protect her. If he didn’t get her out of here soon, he wasn’t even going to manage that.

“May I?” he offered gently.

She stared through the windshield. Gave a clipped nod.

Her breath caught—he swore it did—when he twisted at the hip and leaned toward her. By sheer force of will, he kept his gaze from connecting with hers as he reached across her body for the seat-belt strap—and then he was the one struggling for an even breath as the soft whisper of hers feathered against his jaw.

Her generous breasts rose and fell beneath the silk of her blouse as he fumbled with the belt like a horny teenager before finally managing to buckle her in. In silence, he absorbed it all, the scent of her, the heat of her, and the pride that she was having a difficult time clinging to. Then there was the very obvious fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and his suspicion that something other than the mild March chill had caused the tips of her nipples to harden like tiny buttons and strain against soft gray silk.

He eased away, far too aware of the absence of all that delicious heat no longer snuggled against him. And way too willing to taste those full, lush lips.

Squared up behind the steering wheel, he thumbed back his hat, rolled his shoulders. Well. That was interesting. And stupid. There was no way he was going in that direction with her. For a lot of reasons. None of them having to do with how vulnerable she looked. Most of them having to do with lessons learned about high-maintenance women. Women who lived, breathed and required a lifestyle that was well within his means, but not within his disposition to provide.

Without a word, he shifted into first gear and eased out of the lot just as his cell phone rang. Relieved to have the diversion, he opened the console that ran between the bucket seats. Snagging the phone, he punched the button on the second ring.

“Walker.”

“Matt. It’s Greg. I take it you made it without incident?”

Matt let out a breath he’d probably been holding since he’d made the mistake of looking into eyes so blue it made him think of bluebonnets under a summer sky. Without incident? Not quite.

“Close enough.” He hooked a left turn at the corner of Market and Fifteenth. “We’re headed for Casa Royale now.”

“Sorry, but that’s got to be a negative. Once the troops figured out they’d been hoodwinked, they decided to divide and conquer. Half of them tore back into the hospital. The rest are following Anna and me to the ranch. You bring Helena here right now and they’ll hound her like a wolf pack.”

Matt swore under his breath.

“What is it?” Despite her attempt to conceal it, enough tension to string a guitar hummed through Helena’s breathless question. “What’s wrong?”

He glanced from the street to her face. If possible, those telling eyes of hers had grown bigger and more apprehensive. It was looks like those that made him forget why he didn’t want to get involved with her.

“It’s all right,” he assured her and returned his attention to Greg. “Okay. We regroup. Any ideas?”

“I don’t see too many options except the obvious. You’re going to have to take Helena to High Stakes for a few days until this settles down.”