Читать книгу Protecting the Pregnant Princess - Lisa Childs, Lisa Childs, Livia Reasoner - Страница 9

“You could have killed him,” the woman chastised the guard, her voice a hiss of anger. “You could have killed other employees or patients. You were not supposed to use that gun. Again.”

Through the crack the door had been left open, Aaron spied on the argument. Despite the man’s superior height and burly build, he backed down from the woman. She was tall, too, with ash-blond hair pulled back into a tight bun. The plaque on her desk, which Aaron sat in front of, identified her as Dr. Mona Platt, the hospital administrator.

“That man is not an employee,” the guard replied, his accent thick.

Aaron tried to place it. Greek? St. Pierre Island was close to Greece.

“He’s a new hire,” she replied, “who passed all the security clearances.”

She had checked. She’d used her computer to pull up all of his fake information. He needed to know what other information was on her system, like the identity of the woman in Room 00. Or if not her identity, at least the identity of the person who had committed her to Serenity House.

Keeping an eye on the outer office where the two of them argued, Aaron moved around her desk and reached for her keyboard. He needed to pull up the financials. A place like this didn’t accept patients for free. Someone had to be footing the bills.

Dr. Platt hadn’t signed off her computer before leaving the room. And not enough time had passed since she’d left her desk that the screen had locked. He was able to access the employee records at which she’d been looking. But he needed patient records. However, he didn’t know the patient’s name. And if she was telling the truth, neither did the patient.

“He’s not a nurse aide,” the guard argued. “He could be a reporter.”

“Not with those credentials,” the administrator argued. “They’re real. He passed our very stringent background check.”

“Then he’s not a reporter,” the man agreed with a sigh of relief.

“That isn’t necessarily a good thing,” she warned him. “Since he had a legitimate reason for being here, he’s more likely to go to the sheriff’s office to report your shooting at him.”

Aaron couldn’t involve the authorities—couldn’t draw any media or legal attention to the woman in Room 00. No matter who she was, it was likely to put her in more danger if her whereabouts became widely known.

“He can’t go to the police if he can’t leave,” the man pointed out.

Aaron suppressed a shudder. Maybe instead of looking for information, he should have been looking for an escape. There was a window behind the desk, but like every other window in the place, it had bars behind the glass.

“We can’t hold him here,” she said. “Someone could report him missing, and we don’t want the state police coming here asking questions. Or worse yet, with a search warrant.”

“It is too dangerous to let him go,” the man warned. “He could still go to the police.”

“Yes, because you shot at him,” she admonished him. “That was dangerous—for so many reasons!”

“I couldn’t let him get away!” the man replied. “He was in her room.”

“And she couldn’t have told him anything,” the administrator assured him. “She doesn’t know anything to tell.”

“But he must have recognized her…”

Aaron had but he still wasn’t certain which woman she was. Her trying to strangle him had convinced him she was Charlotte. But part of Charlotte going above And beyond, besides plastic surgery, to protect the princess had been teaching the royal heiress how to protect herself. And Princess Gabby had never needed more protection than she did now.

So as not to draw their attention back to him, he lightly tapped the computer keyboard. But he wasn’t certain what to enter. To pull up patient records, he needed the patient’s name.

“All our employees sign a confidentiality agreement,” the administrator reminded the guard. “He can’t share what he saw with anyone without risking a lawsuit from Serenity House. Shooting at him was totally unnecessary.”

“I still need to talk to him.”

“You will only make the situation worse,” she said. “If he does go to the authorities, I will be informed.”

So she had a contact within the sheriff’s office.

“Will you have enough warning for us to get her to a more secure location?”

“I don’t know.”

“You were paid handsomely to keep this location secure,” the man said, his already gruff voice low with fury. “And since you have failed, I will handle this, and him, in my own way.”

The guard wasn’t going away. Instead of punching keys in the computer, Aaron needed to figure a way out of Serenity House—first for him and then for the patient in Room 00.

Room 00. He typed it in and the screen changed, an hourglass displaying while the computer pulled up records. He was almost in…

“What the hell are you doing?” the woman demanded to know as she slammed open the office door with such force it bounced off the wall and nearly struck her.

Aaron hit the exit key as he leaned across the keyboard, reaching for the box of tissues. He pulled one out and pressed it to his head. “I’m bleeding. That crazy son of a bitch was shooting at me.”

He glanced behind her but the man was gone. Somehow she’d gotten rid of the goon—apparently with just a look as he’d overheard no words of dismissal. Maybe Aaron would have been in less danger if he’d gone with the guard because there was something kind of eerie about this steely-eyed woman.

“Yes, that was bad judgment on his part,” she said, sounding nearly unconcerned about the shots now. “But maybe it wasn’t uncalled for.”

“Dr. Platt, I’ve done nothing to warrant an execution.” He edged around her desk, toward the door. She blocked it, but as a trained bodyguard, he could easily overpower her—physically. Mentally, he didn’t trust her—given the doctorate of psychology degree on her wall and her overall soulless demeanor.

“You entered a room that every employee,” she said, “newly hired and long-term—has been warned is strictly off-limits.”

He hadn’t actually attended an orientation. But the guard posted at her door had certainly implied Room 00 was off-limits. “I thought I heard a yell for help. I was concerned—”

“Then you should have summoned the guard or the nurse who are authorized to enter that room. That is protocol,” she stated, her voice cold with an icy anger. “By going inside yourself, you violated protocol.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” he said. “I just reacted.”

“You reacted incorrectly,” she said. “And because of that, you can no longer be on staff at Serenity House.” She held out her hand.

He moved to shake it, but she lifted her hand and ripped the ID badge from the lanyard around his neck. “You’re fired, Mr. Ottenwess,” she said, addressing him by the name on that ID badge.

“I would appreciate another chance,” he said. “Now that I’m fully aware of the rules, I promise not to violate them again.”

She shook her head. “That’s a risk I can’t take. And frankly, Mr. Ottenwess, staying here is a risk you can’t take. I talked the private security guard out of interrogating you. But if he sees you again, I’m not sure what he might do to you.”

Shoot at him again. And maybe the next time he wouldn’t miss. The only thing that had nicked Aaron’s cheek had been a shard of a porcelain vase that the guard had shot instead of him.

The burly guy had disappeared, but Aaron suspected he hadn’t gone far. How could he get past him again to access Room 00?

“That’s why I’m having my own guards escort you off the premises.” As silently as she’d dismissed the private guard, she must have summoned her own because two men stood in the doorway.

“This isn’t necessary,” Aaron said. “I can show myself out.”

“Actually you can’t,” she reminded him, “without your badge you can’t open any of the facility doors—not to patients’ rooms and not to exits. They will show you out.” She barely lifted an ash-blond brow, but she had the two men rushing forward. Each guy grabbed one of his arms and dragged him from her office.

Aaron could have fought them off. They weren’t armed. But he didn’t want to beat them. He wanted to outsmart them. Or he had no hope of helping the woman in Room 00.

JANE HAD JUST resigned herself to the fact that the man, that the voice in the hall had addressed as Timmer, wasn’t coming back…when the lock clicked and the door opened. She fought to keep her eyes closed and her breathing even, feigning sleep as she had when he’d entered the first time. Or at least the first time that she remembered.

“Is she really out?” the gruff-voiced guard asked someone.

Soft hands touched her face and gently forced open one of Jane’s eyes. She stared up at the gray-haired nurse who dropped her lid and stepped back before replying, “She’s unconscious.”

“Did he hurt her?” Mr. Centerenian demanded to know.

“Who?” the nurse asked, her voice squeaking with anxiety. Over Jane or over lying to the guard?

“Someone was in her room,” the man explained.

“He wouldn’t have been able to talk her,” Nurse Sandy easily lied again. She obviously hadn’t been anxious about lying to him. “I gave her a sedative earlier, like you requested. She’s completely out and oblivious to her surroundings.”

Jane fought to keep her lips from twitching in reaction to the nurse’s blatant lie. Wouldn’t the guard remember that the nurse had given her no medication?

If only this woman had access to a door-opening name badge, Sandy could prove an even more valuable ally because Jane suspected she would help her escape if she could.

Of course the other man—Timmer—had promised he would return. Could he? Was he physically able to return?

“Good,” the guard grunted. “And he won’t get another chance to talk to her.”

She held in a gasp as fear clutched her heart. Had one of those shots struck the man?

“Why—why won’t he?” the nurse nervously asked the question burning in Jane’s mind.

The guard did not answer, just issued another order. “Leave now.”

“But—but I should stay to monitor her—”

“Leave now,” Mr. Centerenian repeated.

The lock clicked again and the door opened with a creak of hinges and rush of cool air from the hall. It closed again, shutting in the stale air that smelled faintly of the cigarette smoke that always clung to the guard.

Had Mr. Centerenian left with Nurse Sandy? Was Jane alone again?

She nearly opened her eyes but then the guard spoke again. Since the older woman had left, he wasn’t talking to the nurse.

Jane peered through a slit in one lid and saw that his cell phone was pressed to his ear. He spoke in a language she couldn’t place but somehow understood. She interpreted his side of the conversation.

“There is a problem,” he said. “Someone got inside her room tonight. He saw her…”

Mr. Centerenian grunted in response to whatever the person he called told him and then agreed, “Yes, it is no longer safe to keep her here. I will bring her and your unborn child to the airport tomorrow night to meet your private plane.”

Who the hell was the guard talking to? Who was the father of her unborn child? She had suspected it was the man who’d snuck into her room. If not him, then who?

She barely restrained her urge to attack the guard and demand that he tell her who he was talking to, who he was bringing her to meet. But she couldn’t risk getting hit again. An apparent blow had already cost her too much—of her strength and her mind.

And she needed all she had of both to escape before the guard brought her to the airport. She feared that if she got on that private plane, that she would have no hope of ever regaining her freedom.

She couldn’t trust that the man who had snuck in would keep his word to return and help her. She didn’t know if he even could—if Timmer had survived his confrontation with the guard. She waited but Mr. Centerenian said nothing of the man he’d caught in her room.

Was he alive or dead?

And who the hell was he or had he been to her?

PAIN EXPLODED IN Aaron’s stomach, sending his breath from his lungs in a whoosh. He doubled over, hanging from the arms holding him back. Not that he couldn’t have broken free had he wanted to fight. But as he writhed around in an exaggerated display of pain, he lurched forward and accidentally fell against the guard who was using him as a punching bag.

“And don’t come back unless you want more of that,” the man warned as he pushed Aaron back. He pushed him through the gate he’d already opened that led from the building to the employee parking lot.

The lot was behind the big brick building and dimly lit. The few parking lights flickered and cast only a faint glow that reflected off the windshields and metal of the cars filling the lot. Darkness was gathering, pushing the last traces of daylight into night.

The gate snapped shut behind him and the lock buzzed. That gate and the one between the guest parking lot and front entrance were the only ways through the sixteen-foot-high fence surrounding the building.

Serenity House was a freaking fortress—more prison than hospital. If Charlotte was the woman in Room 00, it was no wonder that she hadn’t managed to escape yet—despite her skills. Of course if she’d been telling him the truth, she’d forgotten all those skills…except for how to strangle him. Only she hadn’t been as strong as the woman he remembered—as the woman with whom he’d made love one unforgettable night.

Images flashed through his mind. Moonlight caressing honey-toned skin and sleek curves. His hands following the path of the moonlight. Then his lips…

And her hands and her soft lips, touching him everywhere. Passionate kisses, bodies entwined…

His breath shuddered out in a ragged sigh as he shook off those skin-tingling memories. That had been one incredible night. And even though they’d used protection, it wasn’t foolproof.

Was that baby she carried his? The dates would probably be about right. But was the woman?

He would find out soon. For the sake of the guards who watched him yet from behind the gate, he stumbled across the parking lot with the drunkenlike stagger of a boxer who’d taken too many hits.

Aaron had driven separately from the U.S. Marshal, which was good since Jason “Trigger” Herrema had left him without a backward glance. Some partner Trigger must have been to Charlotte. No wonder she was so strong and independent. And no wonder she had resigned from the U.S. Marshals for private security.

But Charlotte Green wasn’t the only one with skills. Aaron clutched the ID badge he had lifted from the guard who’d hit him. The guy had seemed too arrogant an SOB to admit or even realize that Aaron had taken the badge off him. At least not right away. But he might eventually figure it out. So Aaron had to act quickly.

But not too quickly that they were waiting and ready for him to try something. He also needed backup. Obviously he couldn’t count on Trigger, the man, so he needed another kind of trigger—one on a gun.

He hurried toward his vehicle, which was a plain gray box of a sedan that he’d rented at the airport. His gun wasn’t inside but back at the cottage he’d found in the woods near Serenity House. He hadn’t rented it; he hadn’t needed to—it had looked abandoned or at least out of season for the owners. The cottage was close enough that he’d figured they would be able to run there if they weren’t able to reach his vehicle.

But now that he had seen Charlotte or Princess Gabriella or whoever the hell she was and realized how weak she was, he suspected that outrunning anyone was out of the question.

He needed wheels and a very powerful engine. Maybe he should have gone for fast rather than nondescript when he’d rented a car. Just as he was considering his choice, shots rang out—shattering the rear window. He ducked down, easing around the trunk toward the driver’s side. Maybe if he kept the car between him and Serenity House, the guards wouldn’t have a clear shot—if they were the ones shooting. But he’d seen no weapons on them. Then the driver’s side windows shattered, bullets striking first the rear window and then the front window.

“I’m not getting the deposit back on this rental,” he murmured as he clicked the key fob to unlock the doors. He could have just reached through the shattered window and unlocked it himself, but he didn’t want to raise his head too high for fear that it might be the next thing a bullet hit.

He didn’t even know where the hell the shots were coming from. Serenity House? Or somewhere in the parking lot behind him?

He ducked down farther, suspecting the shots might have been coming from behind him. Maybe he had his answer about where the hell the private security guard had gone. Instead of standing sentry outside Room 00, he’d set up an ambush outside Serenity House.

With the door unprotected, Aaron had the best chance to free Charlotte or Princess Gabriella. But he couldn’t go back inside. Shots kept firing, and he knew it was just a matter of time before one struck him. He had to get the hell out of here while he still could.