Dangerous Protector (Red Stone Security #14)(3)

“I will, but I’ve gotta get back to the shop.” She glanced over her shoulder again just in time to see Mrs. Bailey strolling down the sidewalk, bundled up in a scarf, hat, thick jacket, and walking her little shih tzu—who had on a tiny pink hat and matching doggy coat. She opened the door to Kimmy’s shop and stepped inside. Duty called.

As she started to jog back across the street, a chilly breeze whipped over her. She hadn’t bothered to grab her jacket, but now she wished she had. Wearing jeans, a long-sleeved black T-shirt, and a black-and-white checkered apron wasn’t helping much with the chill.

When she reached the sidewalk she stuck her hand in the pocket of her apron. She’d get too warm wearing her jacket inside, but she could use an extra sweater today. She’d just grab the one she’d left in her car. It was a surprisingly cold winter in Florida. She was counting down the days until spring.

Her car was a few shops down as she pressed the key fob to unlock the doors. The moment she did, an explosion of noise and heat ripped through the air. Glass seemed to rain down from everywhere, pinging against cars, the sidewalk, and scraping her neck.

Screaming, Tegan threw herself to the sidewalk, covering her head as she dove. Another scream built in her throat, but it was too tight to escape as another shockwave of energy seemed to roll over her, pulsing through her entire body.

As she rolled for the curb, her stomach slammed into a light pole. Grunting in pain, she tried to push away from it, but couldn’t make herself move. Her head throbbed and all the muscles in her body were pulled tight.

Full-blown terror rocked through her as it belatedly registered that had been her car that had just exploded.

If she’d been closer to it or inside it…

Oh God, she’d parked right outside the children’s clothing boutique. If that thing had gone off a couple of hours later…

Tremors overtook her body, making her shake so badly she couldn’t move, could barely think. The man who’d wanted something from her that she simply didn’t have, had been killed. He couldn’t be after her.

But someone obviously wanted her dead. You didn’t accidentally rig a bomb in someone’s car.

When a strong hand took her by the shoulder, she moved on pure instinct and struck out, letting years’ worth of raw survival instinct explode as her fist connected with hard flesh.





Chapter 2





Aaron caught her fist in his open palm. “Tegan! It’s me!”

All the energy left Tegan’s body in a whoosh. It was Aaron, not someone who had come back from the grave to finish her off. Her heart still beat an erratic tattoo against her chest, but her fight instinct was quickly fading.

Aaron bent over her, his far too handsome face a mask of concern. “Tegan, can you hear me?”

Nausea swept through her as she stared up into the most beautiful dark, amber-flecked eyes she’d ever seen. In the distance she was vaguely aware of multiple car alarms going off and the sounds of worried shouts. Probably from shop owners or early morning joggers. At least most of the shops weren’t open this early.

“Damn it, Tegan, answer me.” He looked away from her then and she heard him shout out orders to someone to call 911. It sounded as if he was in a tunnel as he spoke.

He held up three fingers in front of her. “How many fingers am I holding up? What day is it?”

The ringing in her ears suddenly stopped, as if a switch had been flipped. Groaning, she swatted at his hand. “Three, and Tuesday, I think.”

The relief that crossed his face was so stark she felt it like a physical caress. “There was an explosion and you were close. You need to stay still. The shockwaves from an explosion can travel through the body at a rapid speed—including through the brain. It can actually move the brain in the skull. You need to stay where you are.” He spoke so clinically, but the note of worry in his voice was impossible to ignore.

“Jeez, Aaron. That’s so gross. Are you trying to freak me out more?” Why on earth would he tell her all this? She shoved his hands away and sat up. Pricks of pain stabbed her palms as she pushed against the sidewalk. Wincing, she saw the blanket of glass shards littering the sidewalk around them.

Cursing under his breath, he gently took one of her palms and started pulling the fragments from her skin. “Your car just exploded in a fiery ball. I think that should freak you out more than anything. You could have a concussion, and we need to keep you still until help gets here.” Sharp fear punctuated each word. “Not that I like just being a sitting duck,” he muttered, looking around and waving off anyone who tried to get too close to her.

“Your bedside manner sucks.” She tried not to flinch as he pulled out the glass pieces.

Maybe it was the mention of the word bed but his dark gaze flicked to hers and momentarily did that heated thing again before he returned to his task. Or more likely it was just her imagination.

“How do you know that stuff about concussions and explosions anyway?”

He paused and glanced up at the sound of an approaching ambulance. Oh, thank God, help was on the way. “I was in the Corps.”

Oh right, she knew that. “I thought the Marines had corpsmen from the Navy as their medical people.” She knew she was rambling but didn’t care. She was feeling shaky and needed to talk.

“How do you know that?” Job complete, he let go of her hand. Was it just her imagination or did he linger a moment before letting go?