he’d forgotten. He hadn’t been thinking about the way she’d rolled over in bed and looked at him with horror in her eyes. He hadn’t been thinking about the way she’d had him removed from her parents’ estate. He’d forgotten the cold look on her face, the cutting words.
He’d only known Elizabeth was safe and in his arms.
Swearing softly, he took his hands from her body and stepped back. No way was he going to let her turn him into the bad guy.
Wide-eyed, she lifted a hand to her mouth, pressing fingers to full lips colored not by cosmetics, but the relentlessness of their kiss.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a breathlessness he knew she would hate.
“You were pale.” He spoke with exaggerated simplicity, not about to tell her the thought of her being hurt had pushed him to the edge. He would never give her that leverage over him ever, ever again. “I wanted to put some color back into your cheeks.”
She lifted her chin, just as she always did when she was determined to pull herself under control. “A simple pinch would have been fine.”
But nowhere near as satisfying. Retrieving his gun, Hawk scanned the rain-dampened alley a block from the hotel. Many of the sirens had quit blaring, indicating the chaos was settling. Soon Elizabeth’s absence would be noted.
“Nothing is ever simple with you,” he said, returning his attention to her. She had this preconceived notion of how life should be and couldn’t accept that just because a plan was made didn’t mean it had to be followed. He’d tried to show her, had shown her. God, how he’d shown her.
In return she’d accepted another man’s proposal.
“What do you want me to say?” he added, lowering the pitch of his voice. “That I wanted to kiss you? To know if you tasted like the red wine you had with dinner?”
Her eyes darkened, but other than that, she denied him a reaction. “What are you doing here?”
Walking back into a colossal mistake. “Saving your life, it looks like.”
She wrapped her arms around her rib cage, drawing his attention to the black pearls showcased by the square neckline of her little wet dress and the way she’d started to shake.
“Why?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
He slipped out of his sport coat and draped it around her shoulders. “Here,” he almost growled. “You shouldn’t be running around half-dressed when it’s freezing outside.”
She didn’t throw the jacket to the ground and stomp on it the way he’d expected, but pulled the tweed tightly around her. “Answer my question, Wesley. Why are you here?”
The Dumpsters shielded them from view, but soon the authorities would come looking. Or worse. He needed her cooperation, and he needed it now.
“Your father sent me. Jorak Zhukov broke out of prison.”
What little color he’d kissed into her face drained away. After her sister’s ordeal, he figured just the name Zhukov would strike fear into any of the Carringtons.
“Why you?” she asked, and he heard what she didn’t say. Why not Aaron or Jagger or anyone other than him?
“Your father knows I’m the best.” He held her gaze, refused to let her see one trace of the cold fear still slicing him up inside. “So do you.”
The hair pulled from her face made it impossible to miss the way her eyes flared, the flicker of memory, but she quickly hid the reaction and looked toward the Dumpsters.
Hawk didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or slam his fist into the cold brick wall.
Nothing had changed. He knew they had no future, he didn’t want a future, but the denial stung all the same. Here she was as cool and untouchable as always, while something deep inside him boiled. He caged in his response to her, unwilling to let her think she still had that power over him. Because she didn’t. She never had. That was only adrenaline, the thrill of the chase.
“Where did the blood come from?” she asked, looking back at him. “Did you shoot someone?”
“With you in the line of fire?” The thought sickened him. “Sweet God, Elizabeth, what kind of man do you think I am?”
She had the good grace to wince. “Then where did the blood come from?”
Her failure to answer his question didn’t go unnoticed. He knew what kind of man she thought he was. She’d made that bulletproof clear.
The rain picked up, icy pellets slanting down on them both. And despite his jacket, Elizabeth still shook. A compassionate man would have pulled her into his arms, let the heat of his body warm her. But Hawk wasn’t interested in another Elizabeth Carrington rejection, no matter how badly he hated seeing her tremble. The urge to hold her was just instinct, he told himself. Basic human kindness. Nothing more.
“My guess is the fall,” he said. “Zhukov’s man must have cut himself, got his blood on you.” The bastard had taken Hawk down, as well, lifting a leg in the darkness to send Hawk to his hands and knees. The impact had jarred him, but nowhere near as much as the sound of Elizabeth’s scream.
“Zhukov,” she muttered, lifting her eyes to his. “Dear God, where’s Miranda?”
He stepped from the shield of the dumpsters and verified the coast was still clear. “Sandro has her. They’re safe.”
“Thank God,” she breathed.
Time was up. If the authorities found them, there’d be a fuss, questions, officials. There’d be delays. Cameras. Someone might try to separate them.
Elizabeth, the woman who looked at him and saw her worst nightmare, wouldn’t stop them.
He swung toward her. “Can you run?”
She looked at her ruined strappy sandals, then back at him. “Run?”
“I need to get you out of here, and either we run or I carry you.”
She snapped off the heel of her other sandal. “I can run.”
He bit back a laugh. She was so predictable. “Good girl. My car is just around the corner.” Ready to go, he reached for her, but as he’d predicted, she stepped away from his touch.
He came damn close to growling.
“Quit fighting me, Ellie,” he said as levelly as he could. “You have to let me do my job.”
“Is that what you’re calling it these days?”
Impatience snapped through him. “I call it saving your life,” he said, then didn’t give her a chance to protest further, just put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close to shield her from the rain and took off running.
“It’s not the Ritz, sweetness, but it’ll have to do.”
Elizabeth stepped into the small hotel room and heard Hawk close
