Читать книгу Undercover Protector - Melinda Di Lorenzo - Страница 14
ОглавлениеBy the time Nadine lifted her face, Anderson’s balled-up fingers were already flying toward her face. She knew she should be pulling back or ducking—anything to protect herself from impact—but, instead, she panicked. She couldn’t even squeeze her eyes shut; she just froze, waiting for impact. But it didn’t come. His fist stopped just a hairbreadth from her cheek, so close that she could feel its warmth. It hung there for a long moment before it dropped down to close on her wrist. He pulled her back to the spot between the bush and the pillar and rounded on her.
“Nadine.” Her name was almost a growl. “What’re you doing?”
Her voice shook as she answered, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
He dropped his arm and he exhaled. “Where were you?”
Nadine held out her bag. “I dropped this when you saved me from the car.”
“Well, I’m thrilled you’re acknowledging that I saved you. But I’m confused about why you thought it was a good idea to go grab the bag? Now?”
“I thought it would look suspicious just sitting there in the middle of the road.”
“You could’ve been caught by the cops. Or by—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “We should leave.”
But she wasn’t going to just let it go—not with the way her heart suddenly jumped in her chest. “Or by who?”
“No one. Let’s just go.”
“By who, Anderson?”
“Whoever’s after you, Nadine.” His hand, which she just realized still clasped her wrist, gave her a little tug. “Let’s talk about it in the car. I’m parked one street over and it’ll only take a second to get there.”
She dug her heels in stubbornly. “Did you see someone? Garibaldi?”
“I didn’t.”
“But someone else did?”
“A doctor saw you. Counted you in with the rest of the patients.”
“That’s bad?”
“Not specifically. But it means anyone could’ve seen you. C’mon.” He dragged his fingers down, threading them through hers.
Heat jumped from the points where their skin met, startling her enough that she didn’t resist when he pulled her along this time. Her hand even tightened on his as they slipped out of their hiding place. And she couldn’t make it loosen. Thankfully, Anderson didn’t notice. Or at least didn’t comment as he led her away from the hospital.
“Why were you going back down in the crowd by the care center?” Nadine asked, trying to distract herself from how natural and reassuring it felt to be holding his hand. “The cops were already there.”
“Because I was looking for you.”
“But I was meeting you by the bushes.”
“You were supposed to wait by the bushes,” Anderson corrected.
“Didn’t you think I’d come b—” She cut herself off as she clued in. “You thought I ran off on you.”
“Is it much of a stretch?”
Nadine felt an odd warmth creep up her cheeks, and she silently scolded herself for blushing.
Aloud she said, “I told you I would stay.”
She could swear Anderson was eyeing the pink in her face as he lifted an eyebrow her way. “Pretty sure you gave your doctor the same impression before sneaking off in the dead of night.”
“Ha-ha.”
He stopped in front of a midsize pickup truck, and when he freed his fingers from Nadine’s to grab his keys from his pocket, she immediately experienced a pang at the loss of contact. It was accompanied by an urge to reach out and grab his hand again. She actually had to fight to shake off the need to do it, and she was suddenly glad that her cheeks were already heated. At least it provided a good cover for the new embarrassment tickling at her now. And the embarrassment only intensified as Anderson took a chivalrous moment to open the passenger-side door for her before he moved to get in himself.
“You don’t have to do stuff like that,” she said.
Anderson frowned as he turned the key in the ignition. “Like what?”
“Opening the door.”
“You don’t want me to be polite?”
“You can be polite without being so nice.”
He pulled the truck out onto the road. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”
Nadine sighed. “I know you’d rather be working the case. You just told me as much a few minutes ago.”
“I am working the case. You’re my connection to Jesse Garibaldi.”
For some reason, the statement pricked at her. “You know what I mean.”
“No,” he said, “I’m not sure I do.”
“You don’t have to pretend that I’m not an inconvenience by being thoughtful.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might just be thoughtful?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Why would you be thoughtful toward me? I’m disrupting your investigation.”
“You don’t think all people need thoughtfulness, you know...just because?”
“That’s not what—Ugh.”
“Ugh?” His mouth twitched.
“I’m not saying this because I don’t think people deserve respect in a general sense.”
His tiny smile slipped away completely. “You think that you don’t deserve respect?”
“No. I mean yes. Of course I deserve respect.”
“Just not from me?”
She couldn’t help but glare at him. “You are seriously a pain in the—”
“Hold on. I thought I was too nice.”
“Now you’re getting it.”
His mouth quirked up again. “I’ll work on that.”
Fighting a huff—she already felt enough like a petulant teenager—Nadine focused her gaze out the windshield. But as she saw where they were, she realized they were going in the wrong direction.
“You’ve gone past the turnoff for my place,” she said.
“We’re not going to your place. If Garibaldi’s feeling bold enough to come after you at the care facility, I don’t think he’d hesitate to send someone to your home, too.”
In her need to tell Anderson to stop being so nice, the immediate threat had slipped to the back of her mind. Now she wondered how that was even possible.
“Is that what you were saying before?” she asked. “About someone else seeing Garibaldi?”
Anderson’s hands tightened in the wheel. “A patient reported a masked man in the hall on the third floor.”
“My floor.”
“’Fraid so. Not much of a consolation, but I doubt it was the man himself. More likely one of his thugs.”
“The same person in the car?”
“Or working with him.”
She made herself straighten her shoulders and speak in a strong voice. “So what’s the plan, then?”
“I’ve got a room at the Whispering Woods Lodge. We’ll go there, I’ll contact my partners and we’ll decide from there what to do.”
“You know that Garibaldi owns the lodge, right?”
“I do.”
“So you don’t think going there might be a little counterproductive?”
“That’s the whole point. He won’t be looking under his own nose.”
Nadine shook her head. “But if he’s looking for you now, too, he’ll probably figure out pretty quickly that we’re there.”
“My room’s booked under a pseudonym, and there’s a conference of some kind at the hotel, so plenty of random names on the books.”
“Were you also wearing a disguise when you checked in? Because if Garibaldi was casing the hospital, his guys’ll know what you look like and it won’t matter what name you used or how many people are staying there.”
“Trust me,” he said. “I’ve covered my bases.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just that I’ve got a valid excuse for hanging around.”
“What does that—You know what? Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”
“Probably not.”
But something about the way he said it doubled her curiosity. She couldn’t quite pinpoint his tone. A little amused and a little...something...that made her want to blush again for no good reason. And of course the idea of blushing made her feel prickly yet again.
Fighting yet another sigh, she looked down at her hands. She could swear that just a short time ago, she’d been a happy, well-adjusted person. A favorite teacher. Now she was on edge, pretty much 24/7. It almost made her pity the big, blond cop who sat beside her now. He was definitely not receiving the best of her.
Why does it even matter whether or not he gets nice me or not-so-nice me? I’m his case. He just said so.
But for some reason it did matter. Especially now that she’d thought consciously about it.
She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out why she suddenly cared what he thought. He looked the same as he had for the last week. Blond hair, a little too long and several shades darker than her own. Strong jaw, dusted with a few days’ worth of scruff. He had nice, even features. The kind that were deceptively ordinary. But Nadine knew better. The moment he turned on that warm, genuine smile and flashed those drown-in-me eyes of his, he became anything but ordinary.
“Oh!” The word popped out before she could stop it—an exclamation of understanding.
The eyes in question flicked her way. “You all right?”
She forced herself to nod. “Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes!” she snapped.
“Whoa.” He shook his head and turned his focus to the road, then added in a mutter, “Just checking.”
She bit back an urge to apologize. At least her short temper served a purpose at that moment. It was the perfect cover for the realization she’d just made. Whether she liked it or not, the reason she cared what her wannabe bodyguard thought about her was the fact that she found him stupidly attractive.
* * *
Anderson kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. He sensed some kind of internal struggle going on with the pretty little schoolteacher.
Oh, she’s pretty now, huh?
He acknowledged the silent, self-directed question with a mental wave of his hand. Yeah, she was pretty. It wasn’t really much of a debate. Just because he hadn’t taken the time to think about it much before now didn’t make it untrue.
Her petite, almost waiflike frame contrasted sharply with the fierceness in her eyes in a way Anderson liked. Her dramatic hairstyle hinted at the fact that under her sharp edges, she might actually have a fun side. He couldn’t deny being curious about it.
And her scar...
He had to hold his head rigid to keep from swiveling to look at it. Of all her features, maybe he liked the nongenetic one best. The puckered marking that sliced across her jawline screamed of a will to survive. Nadine Stuart had been through literal fire and come out alive. Prickly or not, that one thing made her a hell of a lot more than pretty in Anderson’s eyes. It infused him with sympathy, too.
A decade earlier, she probably thought she’d been through the worst. Then came the last couple of weeks. Witnessing her brother get shot. Being dragged into the Garibaldi investigation. Dragged in again, if he was being accurate. Now this. She was stuck under his watchful eye against her will.
“I’ll only keep you here as long as I have to,” he said as he flicked on his turn signal and guided the truck onto the last road before the turnoff that led to the lodge.
Her head jerked his way, and for a second, he actually saw a bit of softness in her chocolate-colored stare. Then she spoke, and her fierceness overtook her features.
“Don’t start worrying about my comfort now.”
He fought yet another stab of impatience. “I’m irritatingly nice. I can’t help but worry about it.”
A spot of color darkened each of her cheeks. “I thought you were working on that.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
“But in the meantime...” He trailed off, unsure what he wanted to suggest.
“In the meantime, what?” she pushed.
Impulsively, he veered off the road, put the truck into Park under the cover of a decent-sized patch of bushes and turned to face her. “I dunno. But we’re stuck together for the time being, Nadine. So we need to do something that’s going to make the bit of time we have to spend together less...confrontational.”
He expected her to argue. To point out the relatively nice way he put things. Instead, she nodded slowly.
“Okay,” she said. “What do you suggest?”
“Let’s start over.”
“Start over?”
“Pretend that we’re meeting for the first time and that it’s because we want to.”
“Are you sure that’s—”
“Worth a shot? Yes.”
She sighed. “Fine. Introduce yourself.”
He felt a smile building. “I’m Anderson Somers. Thirty years old. Single. I’ve been a full-fledged detective with the Freemont City PD for about four years. Before that, I was a patrolman.”
“Do you like being a detective?”
“Most of the time,” he said honestly.
“Really? Only most of the time?”
“That surprises you?”
“I just kind of assumed that all cops were gung ho or whatever. And it also surprises me that you’d be honest about it.”
“One of those nice-guy faults.”
“Must make it harder to be a cop.”
“Being honest?” He felt his mouth tip up even more. “Shouldn’t that make me a better cop?”
“Don’t you sometimes have to manipulate people?” she wanted to know.
“I prefer not to.”
“And it works not to?”
“I think I’m pretty damned good at it.”
“So then...when don’t you like it?”
“I didn’t say I don’t like it.”
“You said you like it most of the time. That means that sometimes you don’t.”
“Ha. Busted. The truth is, I really like the investigative end of things. It always fascinated me as a kid, to see how my dad got from point A to point B. But if I’m being really honest, until my dad was killed, I always thought I’d take after my uncle and become a firefighter.”
Sympathy softened her voice as she asked, “Why didn’t you?”
“You already know my story.”
She shook her head. “Nope. I don’t. We just met, remember?”
“Right. I forgot.”
“So. Tell me.”
“Not gonna let it go?”
“No.” She said it softly enough that he thought she might, if he pressed it.
He decided not to. She did know already anyway—she’d heard it from his partner, Brayden, during their previous run-in with Jesse Garibaldi—and sometimes it just felt good to say things aloud.
“Fifteen years ago, my father—a detective like me—was killed. Murdered via pipe bomb. Along with two other men. Those men’s sons, myself included, vowed to find out why, and we vowed to do it by the book.”
He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he felt Nadine’s warm grip on his forearm. “So you became a cop.”
He lifted his lids. “I did. We did.”
“What else?”
“Does there need to be more?” It wasn’t a bitter question, just a serious one.
“I guess there doesn’t have to be,” she conceded. “You’ve already said a lot for having just met me.”
“That’s way truer than you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“The guys and I don’t typically share any of that info. Only a handful of people know about the case.”
“Well, then, I’m glad I inspire that kind of trust after knowing each other for five minutes.” She flashed him a smile that, if he didn’t know better, Anderson might’ve called saucy.
He fought a chuckle at the unexpected expression. “All right. It’s your turn.”
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Okay. Well. I’m Nadine Elise Stuart. Twenty-six. I like dogs.”
“Dogs?”
“Yes. And sunsets.”
“Okay...”
“Oh. And long walks on the beach, and—”
He cut her off with a groan. “Really?”
She blinked innocently at him. “What?”
“That’s the angle you’re going to take?”
“We just met. So I don’t want to give away too much too soon.”
The chuckle wouldn’t stay down this time. Anderson let it take over, rolling through his chest, up his throat, then out into the truck. It felt good. And it felt even better when Nadine joined in, her musical laugh mixing pleasantly with his, making it easy to forget the pressing issues at hand. As his mirth tapered off, though, his gaze slipped out the window just in time to catch sight of a navy sedan as it whipped by. Maybe it was the same one that had tried to run her down, maybe not. Either way, it was a sobering reminder that in spite of the light conversation, they were far from safe.
