Saviour in the Saddle. Delores FossenЧитать онлайн книгу.
Surprised, Brandon angled his head to the side and studied her. “Have you been taking deception-training classes since you’ve been in hiding?”
The corner of her mouth lifted, but the smile didn’t make it to her eyes. “When I couldn’t remember anything for more than ten minutes, I started relying on other things. Eye contact. Facial signals. My gut instincts,” she added in a mumble.
Brandon tried his hand at it. “The way you said the last part—my gut instincts—does that mean you don’t like what your gut instincts are telling you about me? “
Her glare returned. “Stand up,” she said abruptly. “Excuse me?”
“Stand up. Please.” That last word was clearly an afterthought.
Brandon did stand, all the while wondering where this would lead. And Willa stood up as well. She went to him, hesitating just a second, before she reached up and caught on to the back of his neck. She pulled him down and touched her mouth to his.
It was a peck, hardly qualifying as a kiss, but it lit a very bad fire inside him that shouldn’t be lit. A fire below the belt.
She pulled back and drew her tongue over her bottom lip. Yet something to stoke that blaze that he had to put out.
“Yes,” she said, “I think I remember kissing you.” Willa shook her head, stared up at him.
Brandon decided to do something to convince her to reconsider that I think part. His hand went to her back, and he hauled her to him.
And he kissed her.
Yeah, it was probably stupid, but he didn’t keep it a peck or at some wimp level to be merely a test. No. He wanted this to be a kiss she’d remember. So, he pressed his lips against hers, moving over her mouth. Taking in her taste, along with that incredible scent. He got an even better sample of her when his tongue touched hers.
She jerked away from him and stepped back. Way back. Her breath was gusting now. Brandon realized his was, too. And she propped her hands on her hips and stared at him.
“I’m attracted to you,” she said in the same tone as if confessing to premeditated murder.
The woman certainly knew how to keep him on his toes. “I’m attracted to you,” he echoed.
Her stare turned to another glare. “I hate that I just told you that because it gives you leverage over me. But don’t be fooled.” Willa walked to the foyer table and grabbed her PDA. “I will never put anything I feel for you over the safety of my baby. That means I’m not going to let you talk me into doing anything I could regret.”
Oh, man. Since they kept going back to that, Brandon figured it was time to move on to step two.
At least step two didn’t involve kissing her.
“The baby is my priority, too,” he clarified. “Yeah, I know. I said I’d dismissed fatherhood, but now that I know a baby’s on the way—”
“It’s a girl,” Willa interrupted. “I’m having a daughter.”
It took everything inside him not to react. He nodded. “A daughter,” he repeated.
Brandon eased that information aside and got back to work.
Yes, he still wanted to protect Willa. He was sorry for what she’d been through. But the groundwork had been laid. She’d bought the story, and it was time to move on. However, before he could do that, Willa lifted the PDA and a second later, there was a small burst of light.
She took his picture.
She typed in something. Paused. And added something else. Notes about him no doubt.
Don’t Trust Brandon Ruiz maybe.
Well, she would have to learn to trust him. At least temporarily.
“You’re going to have to leave this place and come with me,” he told her. Willa started to object, but Brandon talked right over her. “You don’t have a choice. The baby’s safety is at stake, and I won’t let you endanger my child.”
There. That was the gauntlet.
“Your child?” she said, mocking him.
“Oh, no, we’re not going back to that part about my ambivalence toward fatherhood. We’ll do what’s best for this baby. And what’s best is for you not to be here.”
Willa didn’t say a word, not even to demand more information. She was no doubt trying to figure out how she could escape. That attempt would probably come when she tried to excuse herself to go to the bathroom. Or to get something from the kitchen.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
“We’ve received an intelligence report that there’s going to be another hostage situation,” Brandon stated as clearly as he could.
Her bottom lip started to tremble. “Where?” Her voice was all breath.
“We don’t know that. Or when. Or who will be involved. All we have is that it’ll take place at an undisclosed hospital and that the person responsible has hired two computer techs to break into some files.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth to stop the trembling. From what he’d been told, Willa didn’t have any actual memories of the hostage situation she’d endured, but she had read reports. Heck, she’d probably memorized them and knew she didn’t want any other person to go through what she had.
“You could put guards at all the hospitals,” Willa suggested.
He shook his head. “Too many of them. We can put them on alert, of course, and warn them of the potential danger, but we’re not even sure this attack will happen at a hospital in the state. It could happen anywhere.”
She waited a moment. Mumbled something. “How can I help?” she finally asked.
Brandon took a deep breath. Even though he still had to be mindful of her attempted escape, step two had been a success. Now, it was time for the grand finale.
Well, part of it anyway.
The last step wouldn’t happen until SAPD was sure this new hostage threat had been squelched.
“We think someone masterminded the situation with the maternity hostages,” he continued.
“But you caught the two gunmen and the man who hired them. I read about it.”
“Yes, his name was Gavin Cunningham, and last week he committed suicide in prison. In his suicide note he indicated he hadn’t worked alone, that someone had helped him set up the entire maternity hostage situation.”
The breath rushed from her mouth. “Who helped him?”
“We’re not sure. That’s where we’re hoping you can fill us in.”
“I get it,” she said almost immediately. “You want me to resume my therapy so I can remember if the gunman who held me said anything about the identity of his boss.”
“Yeah.”
Among other things.
“But I might not remember,” she pointed out. “Or maybe the gunman didn’t say anything to me at all. I could be putting myself out there for no reason.”
“You wouldn’t be just putting yourself out there, Willa.” Brandon tried to keep his voice level and calm. “I’d be with you. You’d be in my protective custody.”
She rolled her eyes. “Let me guess—that wasn’t your idea. It was Lieutenant Duggan’s.”
Brandon evaded that. “Bo Duggan lost his wife during that hostage situation. She died after giving birth to their twins. He’s, well, eager to solve this case once and for all.”
She stayed quiet a moment. Then, she