Читать книгу Romancing the Crown: Nina & Dominic - Lyn Stone - Страница 9

Chapter 4

Ryan dumped her unceremoniously into the back seat of a waiting car. “Are you hurt?” he growled, grasping her hands and bringing them to his face. He took a deep breath in each of her palms, then released her. A strange thing to do, she thought, looking down at them, flexing her fingers.

“Um, no, I don’t think,” she replied, sounding rough, either from the smoke or the screams. Her hips were banged up and her throat felt raw. She glanced down and saw a cut on her lower leg from the broken glass. It stung a bit, but she was out of that firetrap and that was all that mattered to her at the moment.

“Good God, you’re bleeding,” he muttered, running his hand beneath her calf. Without warning, he slid both his hands up under her skirt and tugged down her ripped panty hose. She had no thought to object, as she watched him discard them and straighten her clothes.

“Medic! Over here!” he called, his voice deep and carrying on the night air above the racket around them. Then he spoke softly to her. “Listen to me, Nina. Did you see anyone inside the house?”

“No,” she rasped. “Whoever set the fire was there, but I didn’t see them.”

“You didn’t start it,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Of course not!”

A man in white came loping over. “Her leg,” McDonough said, holding it to examine it himself now that it was bare. “Superficial cut, but it needs cleaning.” He allowed the medic to look. “Let’s get her over there.”

He helped her out of the car and picked her up again, carrying her to the small white emergency vehicle that had pulled up several car lengths away in the middle of a flower bed. He set her inside the double doors in back. “Get in there and stay in there, you hear me? I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nina nodded and crawled up on the cot. She was exhausted. And scared. But no one would dare try to hurt her in front of so many people. Would they?

In the confusion, anyone could approach. The EMT started to climb in. If he closed those doors, she would be alone with a stranger. God, anyone could steal a white coat!

She scrambled out before he could stop her and began running. “McDonough! Ryan!” she yelled. Her voice wouldn’t cooperate, emerging at little more than a ragged whisper. Oh, God, oh, God, where had he gone? “Ryan!”

Strong arms closed around her from behind and she began to struggle, determined to get away.

“Nina! Calm down. It’s me. You’re okay now,” he said, his tone sounding angry, yet with the only power available to relieve her mind. He turned her around, grasping her shoulders. “Look at me.”

Nina flung her arms around his neck and held on. “Don’t leave,” she gasped.

He lifted her again, holding her close, his jacket rough against her cheek, his face pressing hard against her hair.

“I’ve got you. I’m here, Nina. Settle down now. We’ll go back to the ambulance and I promise I’ll stay with you. Okay? You’ll be fine. Safe.”

She nodded, sniffling, as she burrowed as close to him as she could get. There was no one else in this entire country she could trust at the moment. “Thank God you were here!” Then a thought occurred. “Why were you here? How did you get here so quickly?”

“Followed you, you little nitwit. I just gave you too much slack in the leash.”

“Leash?” she demanded, suddenly incensed. “What am I, a puppy?”

“Don’t start with me, all right? I was minutes behind you, but you faked me out. From what you told the guard, I thought you’d gone into the palace to ask questions. By the time I found out you weren’t there, the fire alarm sounded. Now hush. We’ll discuss that later. Count on it.”

“Okay,” she murmured, grasping him tighter as another stranger approached.

“Take it easy,” he said soothingly. “It’s Dr. Chiara. He’s the palace physician.”

Ryan placed her back inside the ambulance and left her there with the doors open while he spoke with the doctor. Nina gave up trying to hear what they were saying. The noise outside obliterated everything else. She did keep her eye on him, however, to make certain he stayed near.

The doctor checked her out, administered oxygen and gave her an injection.

“I should send you to the hospital overnight,” he told her.

“No!” she argued. “I just want to go back to my apartment.”

Dr. Chiara addressed Ryan. “She should be fine, but watch her. If she shows any sign of respiratory distress, get her over to Augustus on the double.” He patted her arm.

“I will, Nick. Thanks,” Ryan said.

After the doctor had bandaged the cut on her leg, Ryan carried her back to the car he had taken her to after the rescue. This time he put her in front and went around to the driver’s side.

“I wish you’d agree to go to the hospital,” he grumbled.

“Not a chance.”

“Stubborn.”

Though he was obviously angry with her, he still hadn’t upbraided her the way she’d expected, nor had he threatened her with any reprisals. But she knew he wasn’t through with her. Not by a long shot.

As soon as he fastened his seat belt and checked hers, he sat there, silently pinning her with a gaze so intense, she felt interrogated already. Tired. Wrung out. Incredibly sleepy. “What in the world was in that shot?”

“Antibiotic,” he snapped, then abruptly launched into another tirade. “You had no business being in that guesthouse. You nearly got yourself killed.”

“I wanted to see for myself,” she muttered, “because… because Desmond lived and died there. I promise you I didn’t strike any matches.”

He said nothing, and Nina felt obliged to fill the silence.

“I swear I didn’t,” she insisted, her words slurring. “I only wanted to be in there by myself, see if I could feel what he felt, what he was like. Only… only there was nothing there of him.” Tears leaked down her cheeks and she swiped at them angrily. “And then…”

“Did you see anything?” McDonough asked finally.

“No, nothing. I was in the bedroom. Heard the back door creak. I hid in the bathroom, in the shower. Next thing I knew, the place was on fire.”

“Whoever started it used an accelerant. Had to, in order for it to spread that quickly,” he told her. “The arsonist went out through the back. As soon as the guard out front saw flames through the window, he reported it.”

“You sniffed my hands,” she accused. “You thought I set it.” Nina wished she could summon the energy to get really angry about that. But she was so tired.

“And now I know you didn’t.” He sighed. “You need to get to bed.”

Panic begin to rise again. “You won’t leave?”

His mouth quirked, more in resignation than reassurance, she thought. “No. I won’t be leaving.”

“Thanks,” she said, breathing the word as she leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. She felt like a hundred and ten pounds of molten lead.

Nina was vaguely aware of the car stopping near the flashing lights of the fire truck and Ryan speaking to someone out the car window, but she couldn’t seem to rouse herself enough to listen to the conversation.

Tomorrow he would tell her everything he had found out. Tomorrow, when she showed him the earring, he would have to agree that she’d discovered something his team had overlooked, even if it was insignificant. Then he would take her attempts to help seriously. He would have to.

The car rolled forward, soon picked up speed, and the noises associated with fighting the fire faded into the distance. She yawned widely, drawing in much needed oxygen to try and stay awake, but her eyelids refused to open.

“Not antibiotic,” Nina guessed.

“Nope.”

“’Gainst the law,” she said, yawning again, wishing she sounded more irate.

“Sue me in the morning.” Had he chuckled? Was he laughing at her?

“Found a clue,” Nina murmured, hardly able to form the words.

“What?” he demanded. No humor now, she noted. “What did you find?”

She sensed his full attention on her now. Payback time. Nina allowed her head to loll to one side on the headrest and faked a soft snore. She knew the second or third snore would probably be for real and tried not to smile.

The smell of fresh coffee ought to bring her around, Ryan thought as he waved the steaming cup of it close to her nose.

She gave a little grunt of pleasure in her throat and turned her head on the pillow, following the scent. Her eyes opened slowly, lids still at half-mast as she licked her lips.

Ryan could no more suppress his rush of lust than he could have held back the tide in the harbor. The feeling took him by surprise at the oddest times. She should be haggard and pale after the night she’d endured. Instead she looked as if she’d given some lucky man a wild night of hot sex. No, not that exactly, he decided. Too innocent for that. Too unaware of her sensuality.

He continued to tempt her with the coffee, moving it closer, then drawing it away to watch her seek it out. Then he realized what he was doing and stopped the motion immediately.

He took a fortifying breath and looked away as he spoke. “C’mon, Nina, wake up. How am I supposed to get any work done if you sleep all day?”

She slowly pushed herself up until she was leaning on one elbow. His peripheral vision caught that and also noted the covers slipping down around her waist.

He’d undressed her in the dark last night, leaving her bra and panties on so she wouldn’t freak out when she woke up. Still, he’d had a rough time getting to sleep on her sofa after that. His imagination had been working overtime, fueled by the remembered sensation of her velvety skin against his hands.

The touching had been unavoidable, of course. Inadvertent and innocent. Totally innocent. Reliving it later and adding fantasies was not, he admitted. Neither were his thoughts at the moment, seeing her deliciously rumpled, tousled and sleepy-eyed.

“Timeizzit?” she grumbled, reaching for the coffee like it was an antidote to poison she’d just ingested.

“Nearly seven o’clock. Up and at ’em. I’ve been up for two hours.” And awake a lot longer than that, damn her luscious hide.

She grunted and gulped another slug of caffeine, eyeing him evilly over the edge of the cup. “Not fair. You weren’t drugged.”

Ryan shrugged. “I wasn’t a basket case.”

“Neither was I,” she argued, shoving the cup back at him as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “Get out of here so I can change.”

As she looked down at the scrap of lacy pink bra and whisper thin silk bikini bottoms she was wearing, he watched the light dawn.

“Wait a minute! Who took my clothes off?”

Ryan backed out of the bedroom, stopping in the doorway. “Who do you think?”

“Pervert,” she growled. She snatched the covers up to her chest, leaving an excellent view of those long, long legs, lovely despite the six-inch bandage marring one of them. When he managed to drag his gaze up to her face, he saw her shooting daggers and gritting her teeth. “I think I’m reporting you to the police! That’s what I think!”

“Okay, enhance my reputation if that’s what you want to do. In the meantime, I’m on my way to rehash some of the evidence and see what else needs doing. I just wanted you awake and aware before I left. Be sure you keep the doors locked while I’m gone.”

She jumped up, dropping the sheet, abandoning her attempt at modesty. “Wait! I’m coming with you.”

He’d known that. He’d already decided it would probably be better if he didn’t leave her here alone anyway. The fire might have been meant to destroy the crime scene, but Nina had almost died in it. Whoever set that fire must have seen her enter the guesthouse and realized she was still there. Setting it in the bedroom adjacent to the bathroom where she was hiding could have been meant to prevent her escape.

It was his responsibility to see that nothing like that happened again, and the best way to do it was to get her out of Montebello as soon as possible.

Ryan downed the rest of her coffee as he watched her dash for the bathroom. The back view was as nice as the front. “Ten minutes!” he called out as she slammed the door.

He prepared to wait thirty. She was ready in fifteen, marching into the living room, looking like she’d spent a full hour in front of the mirror.

Not bad, he reflected, remembering how long it used to take… No, he wasn’t going there this morning. But for some reason, the flash of memory hadn’t stabbed him in the heart the way it once had. He realized he’d been smiling when he thought back to the time when he’d been a husband, listening to the hair dryer, hearing Kath humming off-key while she put on her face and he tapped his foot waiting.

He shook it off, promising himself he would examine his reaction later when he was alone. Test the waters with one of the happier recollections and see how it went. Not here and now with the feisty Ms. Caruso raring to play Watson to his Sherlock.

“What did you do with my purse?” she demanded.

Ryan pointed to the chair by the door. “You know that’s the first thing a good cop looks for when a woman’s reported missing?”

She glanced up from examining the contents of her shoulder bag, zipping this pocket and unzipping that one. “Hmm?”

“Handbag. If the purse is still there and she’s gone, it’s a sure bet there’s been foul play. Women won’t take off voluntarily without their stuff.”

“Don’t be sexist. You go anywhere without your wallet?” “Point taken. You about ready to hit the road?”

She smiled smugly, holding up one fist. “You about ready to add to your collection of evidence?”

“The clue you mentioned,” he guessed, returning her smile. “What have you got? That kept me awake last night.” Among other things. It had also prompted him to search her purse and clothing.

“I meant it to. Are you going to guess which hand, or just take this and have a look?”

Ryan accepted what she offered. “An earring. Not yours, I take it.” It was for a pierced ear and hers were pierced. He had assumed it belonged to her when he’d found it.

“Nope, not mine. I stepped on it last night in the guesthouse.” He managed not to gape. The thing was small and could possibly have been missed in the sweep. “Where exactly?”

“A couple of feet from the bloodstain. I think it might have been caught in the pile of the rug or tangled in the fringe. Your people did vacuum, you said, but you know how vacuums are. Mine barely picks up dustbunnies. Rolling up the carpet could have dislodged it.” She focused on the bauble in his palm. “You think it could it be important?” “Could be,” he granted, squinting at the thing. It was half the size of a dime, suspended by a few tiny links of chain from a round silver ball welded to the post. “If we can get any prints from it, they’ll probably be yours.”

“I thought it was a tack in my foot or I’d have been more careful handling it. Sorry.”

“Not your fault. We’ll check it out anyway.” He went to the kitchen, found a roll of plastic wrap and swaddled the earring. “I just wish we knew how long it had been there.”

“I can tell you how you might find out,” she cooed, rocking back and forth, pulling a face that begged him to ask her.

“I’ll bite. How?”

She waltzed forward, took it from him and examined it through the transparent wrap. “I recognized it the minute I saw it.”

“You know whose it is?” This was too good to be true.

“No, but I know where it came from. At least I think I might. On the plane coming over the airline furnished a catalog with duty-free merchandise. You know, the stuff you can only buy at the duty-free shops and while you’re in the air? This particular earring was offered. I almost bought a pair, but the price was outrageous.”

Ryan smiled at her enthusiasm. He felt pretty charged up himself. “We can find out when the catalog was issued, when the earrings were added, and how many have been sold and on which flights. Might get lucky with a credit-card purchase in a name that’s familiar.”

“Precisely. Well?”

“Well what?” he asked, slipping the earring into his jacket pocket.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she questioned impatiently. “Like thanks, well done or something equally grateful?”

“Something equally grateful. I’ll buy you breakfast.”

Her face fell. “That’s it?”

Ryan took her arm and led her to the door. “After I feed you, I thought I would show you the evidence room and the lab.”

“You’re going to let me help now, aren’t you?” she asked hopefully. “I mean, really help you, not just putz around like a fifth wheel?”

“Sure I will,” he said as he set the alarm and locked the door on the way out. Like hell, he thought. If she believed accidentally stepping on a clue made her Miss Marple, let her think it. Someone had nearly killed her last night and he wasn’t about to let her risk her life again. And no doubt she would, the little loose cannon. Who knew what she’d be up to the next time he turned his back?

He needed to talk to King Marcus this morning and convince him to order the woman back to the States on the next plane out.

What he needed now was a safe place to leave her, somewhere she’d stay put while he accomplished that.

“Can you handle reading the reports?” he asked. “Some are lengthy and fairly graphic. Pictures.”

She looked suspicious. “Well, since I’ve seen the real thing, I think I can manage without freaking out. But what will you be doing while I’m doing that?”

He glanced over at her before backing out of the parking lot and lied straight-faced. “Checking on the earring. What else? You want to catch up on the case or ride out to the airport? I figure there’s no point in duplicating our efforts, right?”

She only hesitated a moment, looking doubtful, then agreed.

Ryan almost heaved a sigh of relief. Once he spoke to the king and had her exiled, she was going to be mad as hell. He doubted she’d ever forgive him for it.

But what did he care? He’d never see her again after she left. At the realization, depression hit him like a train. It had hit before on a fairly regular basis and he was used to it now, but this time it was a little different. This time, there was a smattering of hope mixed up in all that gloom.

Maybe Nina would return to Montebello when all this was over. If she would just come back to ream him out about this, or visit her brother’s grave, or just see the sights she’d missed, he might have a chance to convince her he’d been doing her a favor.

Stupid idea. None of those reasons would bring her back here. He was about to end it all before he even started anything with Nina Caruso. Safer that way, anyhow, he thought. He had no business letting her get a hold on him the way he’d been doing. It had been ages since he’d had anything going with a woman that lasted longer than it took to put his clothes back on. That was the way his life went now, and he would keep it that way.

When they reached police headquarters, he took her up to the fourth floor and introduced her to Franz Koenig, his forensics specialist and erstwhile computer geek.

Koenig was geeky, bless his heart, complete with postadolescent pimples and the requisite penholder sticking out of his pocket. He’d only recently replaced his taped-together horn-rims with round granny glasses, and then only after Joe had dragged him down to the optometrist.

Franz was one of those guys who could get it all together, and then forget where he put it. The fact that he could get it all together so methodically was what had landed him the job. Ryan could take it from there, and actually preferred it that way. When it came to piling up seemingly insignificant bits of evidence, nobody did it better than Franz. Sorting them out was Ryan’s forte.

“Franz here is our detail man,” he told Nina. “He catalogs and lines up the pieces of the puzzle, and I mean all of them.” Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “Ms. Caruso found us a possible clue last night.” He pulled the wrapped earring out of his pocket and handed it to Franz. “Give me some quick photos of this and then get what you can off of it.”

Franz held the thing between his thumb and forefinger and began looking around for the camera. He found it, then tugged on gloves to position the object for photographing.

“Ms. Caruso’s going to keep you company while I run an errand, Franz. I’m giving her the initial reports to read. You see if you can answer any questions she has about them. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to pick her up.”

Franz shrugged. “Okay.”

Ryan scribbled a phone number on a phone pad and handed it to Franz. “If you need me, call my cell phone. Here’s an alternate number just in case.” He knew he’d be required to turn off the cellular during his audience with the king.

“Okay,” Franz mumbled again, took the paper and laid it down beside his microscope.

Ryan went to the portable file cabinet he had set up in the area where Franz was working. He unlocked it, withdrew a folder and brought it back to Nina.

She eagerly took the file, looked around for a space to work and made herself comfortable at the desk nearest the door. Good. She’d be out of the way and occupied while Ryan took care of business at the palace.

He waited around for the Polaroid shots of the earring to give to Joe, who would check it out with the airlines. Nina seemed thoroughly engrossed in reading and content to stay, but he shot a look of warning over her head to Franz, who nodded back. Ryan just wished Franz didn’t look quite so spacey. Most of the time it didn’t matter.

Nina, eyes locked on a page in the file, tossed him a negligent wave as he walked past her to leave.

Ryan experienced a strange sense of unease. He stopped at the table and looked down at her. “You have enough to do here?”

She nodded, then placed her finger on the page to hold her place as she looked up at him. “You guys have been busy after all, I see. There’s much more here than I expected.”

He shrugged off the backhanded compliment. “If you need anything while I’m gone, just ask Franz.” He gestured toward Koenig, who was so engrossed in his work he wouldn’t notice if the walls fell down around him. “Interrupt him.”

“All right,” she replied and went back to reading the file, dismissing Ryan as surely as if she’d slammed the door behind him.