had provided a couple of towels for her to dry off with. She blotted her face and offered the other hand linen to Shaun.
“Jason would have adored this,” she murmured. “He dearly loved a good thunderstorm. They always scared me silly.”
The limo driver swung around the gates of the cemetery and paused a moment as a maintenance truck rolled past. The plan was for her to be driven back to Jason’s condo in Arlington. Zip Tech had made all the arrangements. She leaned forward to ask the driver to stop at a metro station.
Breaking glass and a soft svit sound thumped the leather seat behind her. The window beside her broke into a thousand tiny pieces, covering her back and hair.
“Get down!” Shaun tackled her, taking her to the floor-board. Suddenly she was facedown underneath two hundred pounds of heavily muscled male, her nose pressed into the taupe-colored carpet. All she could smell was damp earth from their tromp across the cemetery and the strange chemical scent of heavy-duty carpet cleaner.
More glass shattered.
“Damn it!” cried the driver, stomping on the brakes.
“Don’t stop!” shouted Shaun. He raised up on one elbow and for a moment she could breathe. “Someone’s shooting at us. We have to get away from here. Keep driving.”
The back window imploded and showered across their bodies as the car swerved wildly before righting itself.
“Whatever happens,” repeated Shaun, “don’t stop driving.”
“Which way do we go?” shouted the driver.
Shaun rattled off an address she’d never heard of in a heavier Irish brogue, adding to the surreal feel of everything.
Then he lowered his head again, covering her body with his and once again, she couldn’t get any air. His hair tickled her cheek, then his lips were right beside her ear. She was light-headed from the lack of oxygen—and more. It was chillingly bizarre, yet intimate at the same time.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
Words stuck in her throat. “No…no, I’m not. Why is someone shooting at us? Are they following us?”
“We’re going somewhere safe.”
He shifted his weight to pull out a cell phone and started texting.
“You didn’t answer my question. What’s going on?” Was this guy some kind of criminal that people were shooting at him in her car? “Why are they shooting at you?” She heard the rising panic in her own voice. “Abigail, I’m not the person they’re shooting at.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening here. What are you doing?” she demanded.
“I’m trying to get us some help.”
“By texting?” She didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in her voice. Fear made her snarky. “I don’t understand. Why are you texting someone instead of calling 9-1-1?”
“I need you to calm down.”
“Calm down when there are people shooting at us, at me? And I can’t…I can’t breathe.”
She was serious about that part. For some reason her asthma was kicking into overdrive and she was going to have to use her inhaler as soon as possible or she would be in serious trouble.
He shifted his weight, once again reminding her that regardless of his sexual orientation, he was a man and he had her pinned to the ground.
“Your driver is doing a fine job of getting us away from the situation. I’m making sure we have help when we get to where he is taking us.”
“You haven’t told me who you really are, have you?”
He ignored her question and called to the driver instead. “You doing okay up there?”
The guy nodded.
“What’s your name?” asked Shaun. They were speeding along Rock Creek Parkway now. “I’m Carl.”
“Carl, I’m Shaun and you’re doing great. Donner briefed you, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, I need you to take us to that address I gave you.”
Carl nodded.
“What’s going on? Why won’t you tell me? Carl?” She turned her head to meet Shaun’s eyes. “Where are we going? To the police?”
They were nose to nose and she could see a tiny scar under his chin. His eyes seemed darker up close than she’d originally thought, with deep green flecks in the irises. She stared, determined not to look away or back down till she got answers.
“No police. But ’tis a safe place, where we’re going,” Shaun answered.
“Why no police?”
“Because I’m not sure they can help you right now.”
“And you can? Who are you?” she asked again. Fear was giving way to anger.
“A friend.” The snake charmer was long gone; he was cool and businesslike.
She shook her head and turned back to face the carpet. Some friend. No one had started shooting till she met him and up until two minutes ago, Carl had been her driver.
“Why should I believe that?” she whispered.
Chapter Two
Shaun heard the whisper of her voice but couldn’t catch what she’d said as he contemplated the back of Abigail’s blond head. She was so small, he had to be crushing her beneath him. Yet he felt compelled to physically shield her until he was absolutely certain that danger had passed. He rose up and checked out the window before hunkering down again. Carl had left behind whoever was shooting at them, but Shaun was still buzzing from the adrenaline rush.
In his mind’s eye he could see a bullet whizzing through the door. If Abigail Trevor hadn’t leaned forward when she did, he’d be dealing with another dead body.
He couldn’t think about that. He was surprised that someone had tried to kill her. He was expecting bribes, threats, intimidation. That was what his assignment brief had covered. The situation wasn’t supposed to turn violent—not yet, not without any warning first to make it clear to Abigail what was at stake. This was more dangerous than he had realized, which made it all the more imperative that he keep her safe.
“Can you get off me, please? I can’t breathe. I’m not kidding. I have asthma.” Her voice was thin but firm.
Ah, Christ. It wouldn’t do to save her from bullets only to have her die of asphyxiation. Careful of the glass, he rolled to the side and helped her turn over without cutting herself.
She took a wheezing gulp of air, sat up and coughed.
“Do you have one of those inhaler things?” he asked.
