been a bodyguard very long, he obviously took his new job very seriously.
Rosie shook her head. “He—uh—wiped out on his motorcycle.”
Anita peered across at Clint. “Doesn’t look like road rash.”
“Oh, he didn’t fall,” Rosie said.
No. He had jumped—and taken her along with him. But she’d escaped unscathed, thanks to him.
She continued, “He banged into something.” Like a dumpster...or whatever had been inside it.
“Were you with him?” Anita asked with what sounded like genuine concern.
Guilt flashed through Rosie that she’d doubted the woman. She also regretted having to lie to her. “No. He was alone. Driving too fast.”
“He doesn’t seem like the careless type,” Anita said. “He seems really intense.” And now she shivered.
He wasn’t just watching Rosie; he was staring at her coworker as well. Anita’s curiosity must have made him suspicious, too.
Rosie lifted her hand and waved at him while forcing a smile. She wanted him to know he was overreacting. Anita was just nosy.
He lifted his hand, waving her over to him.
Anita released a lustful sigh. “I wish he was waving me over to him. That is one fine-looking man, Rosie. You done good, girl.”
But Rosie hesitated before stepping away from the nurses’ station. She felt safe there; she didn’t feel safe with Clint, and it wasn’t because of Luther Mills’s threat.
Anita bumped her shoulder again. “Don’t keep him waiting, honey. Someone else might scoop him up.”
Did he have a girlfriend?
Javier had told her that he didn’t, but how much had her brother really known about his idol? Obviously not that he would get him killed someday.
Or had he known?
Even before he’d been shot, Javier had said some things to her—things that had made her think he might have been concerned. But more about her than himself...
Her brother had been such a sweetheart.
Clint Quarters was not. He waved at her again, beckoning her to come to him. He probably would have come to her if he’d been able, but it looked as though the resident was stitching up his shoulder.
“He must want you to hold his hand,” Anita remarked with a lustful grin. “I’m surprised you weren’t by his side this whole time.”
He had wanted her there, but Rosie had insisted he should have his privacy and she’d assured him that she wouldn’t go far from him. He’d looked at her with even more suspicion than when he’d been staring at Anita. And she had no doubt that if she’d walked any farther away than the nurse’s station, he would have come after her. Had he thought she’d convinced him to come here so that she could give him the slip?
Sure, she would rather not have him as her bodyguard. But after the shooting, she knew she needed one. Probably more than one. Maybe she shouldn’t have had him lose the Payne Protection SUV that had been following them.
Before Clint could beckon for her again, she walked over to the stretcher on which he was sitting. The resident glanced over at her. “Where’d you find this guy, Rosie?”
“What—why?” she stammered. She hadn’t found him; he had found her. Well, first he’d found Javier. While he’d taken her out of danger, he’d put her brother in it.
And no matter how damn good-looking he was, she couldn’t forget or forgive that.
“He’s some kind of superman,” the young doctor remarked in awe. “He refused to take any kind of painkiller, just a local anesthetic. There’s no way his shoulder is even numb yet, but he insisted I start stitching him up because he’s in a hurry to get out of here.”
“Can’t you see why?” Clint asked him as he grinned at Rosie.
And her traitorous heart skipped a beat as her pulse began to race. Damn him for being so good-looking...
The resident’s face flushed, and he stammered now. “Uh, yeah.”
“So that looks good enough, Doc,” Clint said, even though the resident was still suturing.
“You need a few more to close up the wound completely,” the resident insisted.
But Clint was already pulling away.
“Let him finish,” she told him through the smile she forced herself to hang on to.
“But sweetheart,” Clint said, “we have plans, and we don’t want to keep our friends waiting.”
“Friends...” Who the hell was he talking about?
He was looking beyond her now. Had those other bodyguards followed them after all? She glanced behind her and noticed a couple of teenagers. They were definitely not Payne Protection bodyguards.
Why was Clint staring at them? Did he think they were some of Luther’s crew?
He must have, because he used his free hand to tug her into the space with him. Then he told her, “Pull that curtain, honey.”
The resident glanced nervously from one to the other of them. “Really, Mr. Quarters—”
“Clint.” He corrected him as if he’d done it before. “And really, this is good enough.” But he didn’t wait for the young doctor to finish. Using his right hand, he grabbed the scissors from the suture tray and clipped off the thread and needle himself.
“And I don’t suppose you want a prescription for painkillers?” the resident asked.
“No thanks,” Clint told him.
The young doctor sighed and murmured. “Badass.”
Why was it that Clint Quarters inspired such hero worship in young men? What was it about him? That he was tough? That he was fearless?
But he wasn’t really. She’d seen fear on his face right before she’d walked into that room with Parker Payne and the chief of police.
And she saw it now as he reached for his shirt. “We need to get out of here.”
“Have fun,” the resident said as he slipped away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Those guys out there...”
“The teenagers?”
“They work for Luther.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Or are you just being paranoid?” Like she’d been when Anita had questioned her.
“I’m being realistic,”
