then she darted forward. “Stop!” She grabbed the arm of one man and kicked at the legs of the other. “Let her go!” she screamed. “Help!”
She saw the fist aimed at her head and flinched, but it never made contact. Jason was there parrying the attacker’s arm, then delivering a flurry of punishing blows to the man’s midsection. The second masked man dropped the woman he was holding and produced a switchblade knife. He lunged at Jason, who danced back, out of danger. Then the man grabbed his fellow attacker and bundled him into the van, which roared away even before the side door was closed.
“Oh, my God, Jason, are you okay?” Alana launched herself at him, running her hands over his body to make sure the knife hadn’t made contact. Reassured when she found no blood, she swung around to the unconscious woman lying in the middle of the street, whose two friends had already recovered enough to be huddling around her. One woman had her cell phone out, she saw with relief, probably calling for the police and an ambulance.
Suddenly Jason was there. “Let’s get her out of the street,” he said, and such was his air of authority that when he barked a command in Cantonese, two bystanders moved in to help.
Now Alana could hear police sirens in the distance, and the adrenaline that had allowed her to fight to prevent another kidnapping drained away, leaving her shaking and cold. The memory of her own abduction swamped her...especially those moments of near-despair on the cot in that horrible apartment, and she sank to her knees, hugging herself for warmth. “Oh, God,” she whispered to herself. “Oh, God.”
Jason had his back to her, but when she glanced up she could see he was talking into his cell phone. Then he turned around, saw her and disconnected almost immediately. He was at her side in an instant.
“Alana?” She knew he meant, “Are you hurt?” by the way his face contracted with concern, the way his hands touched her so gently yet with implacable purpose.
“I’m fine,” she managed, trying desperately to catch her breath.
He drew her to her feet and pressed her head against his chest, then his arms closed around her. “It’s okay,” he soothed as if he realized exactly what she needed to hear. “Just breathe. That’s right. Just breathe.”
His body heat transferred itself to her, dispelling the chill. But it was his embrace that truly gave her what she needed. Safe, her frantic mind reassured her, just as it had during her dramatic rescue three weeks earlier. Jason’s rescue. You’re safe.
* * *
Jason took charge at the police station, refusing to let Alana be questioned and insisting Detective Inspector Lam of the Organized Crime and Triad Bureau be called in. “Miss Richardson was abducted the same way three weeks ago,” he explained. “He’s already working the case.”
Alana allowed herself to be seated in the tiny interrogation room, moving on autopilot. A second of near-panic was dispelled when Jason dragged his chair over to sit next to her. His strong arm drew her to his side. “You’re okay,” he reassured her in the same calm voice he’d used in the aftermath of the attack.
She struggled against the fog that seemed to envelop her. “I know. It’s just...remembering...” When his arm tightened around her shoulders, she added disjointedly, “The scene today. That’s exactly... In broad daylight. In the middle of a crowd. I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it was happening.” She buried her face against his shoulder. “I was terrified,” she confessed.
“But you fought them. Three weeks ago and today.” Admiration colored his words.
“But—”
He stopped her before she could continue. “No buts. You fought, Alana. That woman today is safe because of your quick thinking.”
She shook her head slightly, unwilling to leave the comforting shelter of Jason’s embrace. “No. She’s safe because of you. I couldn’t stop them. I just—”
“Delayed them long enough for me to intervene.” Something brushed against her forehead, and Alana realized it was Jason’s lips. His first kiss, her brain recognized, and she hugged that knowledge to herself like the precious memory it would always be.
“She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?” she asked.
“I don’t see why not. Chloroform doesn’t leave any lasting effects—you know that. She was taken to hospital, but I doubt they’ll keep her once she regains consciousness.” His voice roughened. “I’m sorry.”
She raised her head to look at him. “For what?”
“For putting you through that experience again.” The corner of his mouth twitched against strong emotions held firmly in check. “I brought you there on purpose today, but I would never have done that if I had any idea...” When she just stared at him in incomprehension, he explained, “I didn’t want one bad experience to color your perspective of Hong Kong.”
She blinked. “Why?”
He didn’t respond at first. Then, his dark eyes full of meaning, said, “Because this city is my home.”
He didn’t say anything more. It took her a minute, but eventually her eyes widened in dawning comprehension.
She almost blurted it out, but stopped herself in time, instead saying, “I’m glad you brought me there...whatever the reason. Yes, it triggered all those bad memories, but I’m so glad we were able to save another woman from being abducted. Remembering my own similar experience is a small price to pay.”
Their gazes locked and held, and another nonverbal message was exchanged...this one momentous. Then a brisk knock sounded on the interrogation room door, breaking the spell, and the door opened to reveal Detective Inspector Lam.
Alana straightened and made as if to pull away from Jason, but he refused to let her go. She knew from the deliberately impassive expression on Detective Inspector Lam’s face that he’d put two and two together, but had no intention of raising the issue since it wasn’t germane to the situation.
“Miss Richardson, Mr. Moore,” he acknowledged smoothly. “Sorry to meet you again under these difficult circumstances.”
* * *
Two hours later Alana and Jason were free to go. Detective Inspector Lam ordered a squad car to take them back to where Jason’s rented car was parked. “Home?” he asked her when they were standing on the sidewalk.
She shook her head emphatically. “Not unless you want to. I’m not ready for this day with you to end.”
Pride in her surged through him. The same pride he’d felt during the attack today. The same pride he’d experienced listening to her steady answers to Detective Inspector Lam’s questions, despite the latent fear he’d known still held her in its sway.
Pride? he asked himself suddenly. Why pride?
The answer, when it came, jolted through him like an electric shock. Alana wasn’t his, but he wanted her to be. And that blew him away. You’ve only known her three weeks, the rational side of his brain protested. You haven’t even slept with her, for God’s sake!
But none of that seemed to matter. It was as if he recognized in her the mate he’d been searching for these past ten years.
