Deadly Fear (Deadly #1)(104)
“Got him,” she said sweetly, her voice a slow southern drawl that reminded him of a teammate at the Bureau.
His gaze snapped back to her, and Kenton looked now, really looked at her. Short blond hair, wet from sweat and the heat, molded to her head. Her face was all strong angles with a sharp, pointed chin. Wide, golden eyes. Cat eyes. Not classically pretty. Not really.
But with those full lips, those sharp-enough-to-cut-me cheekbones and, damn, those eyes—sexy. Definitely sexy.
Her hands were on her hips now. He couldn’t tell a thing about the shape of her body, not in that bulky uniform, but she was tall, just a few inches shy of his own six-foot-three.
Probably long and lean, but he usually liked them a bit softer around the edges and—
“Wanna tell me why you’ve got a death wish, GQ?”
GQ? He glanced down at his ruined suit. So she was funny. Or wanted to be. “I heard…” Kenton coughed and had to pause to clear his throat and breathe. “I heard… him calling for help.” He wouldn’t tell her the guy was his informant, not yet. That’d be on a need-to-know basis. Bedroom Eyes didn’t need to know that yet.
Her eyes were impressive. They were so big that he was surprised that she’d gotten them to go so mean and small so fast.
“Firefighters fight the flames,” she said. Ice could have dripped from her drawl. “Not businessmen with a hero complex.”
He rubbed his jaw. It hurt but so did his ego. “You always punch out your victims? That part of your complex?”
She shook her head. “I only punch when the guys are dumb enough to fight help when it comes.”
Ah, now that was the second time she’d insulted his intelligence. He reached into his back pocket and yanked out his wallet. The leather stuck a bit when he tried to open it, and he shoved his ID toward her. “FBI, sweetheart. I think I know how to handle a dangerous situation.”
She didn’t even glance down. “I think that’s debatable.”
A snicker came from behind him. Great. An audience. He’d forgotten all about the EMTs.
His sexy savior—with the serious attitude—turned away. “Get him checked out, Harry,” she called out and marched away.
That was it?
His gaze dropped. He couldn’t help it. Even in that thick garb, she had a nice sway.
“You—you assaulted an officer!” was all he could think of to say. She was heading for his informant and leaving him in her dust.
He didn’t want her to go. Not yet.
Her name was on the lower back of her uniform, spelled out in big, reflective letters: L. SPADE.
She threw a vulgar gesture over her shoulder but didn’t stop walking. Well, well… He didn’t fight the smile that lifted his lips.
“Dude, you better stop while you’re ahead,” suggested the EMT. What had she called him? Harvey? Harry?
Kenton tossed the oxygen mask at him. Spade was too close to his informant. No way was she getting first crack at him. The guy was his.
“Hey—wait!” the EMT shouted. “You need to go to the ER, you can’t just—”
Ignoring him, Kenton shoved his way through the crowd. There were gawkers lined up across the street watching the fire begin to sputter. Smoke drifted lazily into the night air, sirens wailed, and general chaos seemed to surround him.
The informant had reached the ground, and the paramedics immediately swarmed him.
“We need him taken to Langley General, stat!” Spade’s voice. “Sir, sir—you’re gonna be all right! You hear me? You’re safe!”
The guy coughed, shuddered, and seemed to collapse in on himself. But then he broke free of the paramedics and ran right at L. Spade.
“Sir!”
Was she going to punch him, too?
No, a coughing fit took the man down. Then there was a pile of bodies as the paramedics got to work. When the guy appeared again, he was strapped to a gurney, twitching, shouting, and spitting.
“You’re welcome.” Spade sighed, running a hand through her short hair. “Must be the night for *s,” she muttered.
Kenton came up close beside her. “Guess it must be.”
Her head turned toward him. Those amazing golden eyes narrowed. Huh. Kinda like fire.
But Kenton’s informant was getting away. An EMT shoved the screaming man into the back of the ambulance. Great. He already knew the guy was a runner. If the fellow made it to the hospital, he’d vanish long before emergency personnel got hold of him.
“You are so full of crap.” Ah, this from the sweet-tongued L. Spade.
He blinked at her. “Sorry, I’m suddenly feeling… a little woozy.” He rubbed his jaw. “Could be from the blow I took. I think, I—I think I need to get to the hospital.” Kenton took a step away from her, his eyes already on the ambulance.
She touched his arm. He felt the heat of that touch right through the sleeve of his dress shirt. “What’s your name, GQ?”
“Kenton. Special Agent Kenton Lake.” So she’d noticed the connection, too, that hot zip of—
“Thanks. I needed your name because I’ll be reporting your actions to your boss at the Bureau.”
What? She was reporting him? She was the one who should be—
A siren screamed on. “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” He broke into a run. No, don’t shut that door— “Wait! I’m coming with you.” Kenton yanked out his mangled ID again, waved it at the EMT, then jumped inside.