Jill Shalvis - Shadow Hawk

“Interesting that he isn’t concerned with making you think he’s dead. Interesting, and very telling.”

“Right.” She closed her eyes. “Because if I’m on his short list for the evening, it doesn’t matter if I know he’s alive. Because I won’t be for much longer.” She slid him a glance that sliced at his heart as she waited for him to nod.

Hawk slapped the phone closed against his thigh and sighed.

She didn’t say anything more, and after a moment he realized she wasn’t being obstinate-her default mood of the night-but rather trying hard to control whatever emotion she was keeping to herself. Bending closer, he risked life and limb to see into her face. “Talk to me.”

She just shook her head.

“Abby-”

“Please,” she whispered, clearly trying with all her might to keep it together. “Don’t. Just let me think.”

Okay. He could do that. For a little while, anyway. But then she shifted in the seat at the same time he pulled back, and her shoulder brushed his chest. The accidental touch seemed to freeze her.

It sure as hell froze him, and he watched as very slowly her head came up. God, her eyes, they completely slayed him. He just wanted to look at her all night. Look at her and inhale her and touch her… The yearning was nothing new. He’d been inhaling deeply to catch her scent for six long months now. Hawk breathed her in and tried not to lose it, but, God, she got him, right in the gut.

In the heart.

She had a strand of silky hair over one eye, and very, very slowly he reached out to stroke it away, wanting to do much more but unable to figure out how to further touch her without her gutting him. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured. “Unfortunately, I don’t know exactly how, but we’ll get there, I promise.”

Her gaze searched his, soft now, uncertain, leaving him just as uncertain what to make of the shadowed expression in her eyes. Was she still mad? Hurt? Was she feeling any of what he was feeling, which was that he wanted to kiss her again, for real this time, without anything coming between them?

Abby turned away.

And there was his answer. No, she was not feeling any of what he was. Still waiting on the gas, he pulled out the phone again and dialed Logan’s cell. No answer. Damn…Glancing up, he found her watching him.

“Last I heard,” she said quietly. “He was in the air, headed back to Cheyenne County.”

He only hoped that wasn’t as serious as it sounded. “Okay, so we go with what we’ve got. The rifle. I just have to match it to the ATF serial number list to place it as one of the stolen weapons. So we need to get into regional offices.”

“Or to my laptop at home.”

“Yeah, much easier. Let’s go.”

“There’s that ‘let’s’ again.”

“We have to do this, Abby. Placing the rifle is evidence of the inside job.”

“Still not enough.”

“Well, we’ll think of more then. We have to do this, you know we do.”

“No, we don’t. We don’t have to do anything.” But Hawk realized the heat in her voice was gone.

Best news all night, from where he stood, because whether she knew it or not, he was winning her over. “If I’m wrong, I’ll-”

“What? Turn yourself in?”

“Yeah.”

She stared at him. “Let’s call Tibbs now.”

“Not without the serial number. Not when he already has evidence against me.”

“Hawk…”

“Look, if I’m wrong, you can call him. I promise.”

She tugged on the cuffs. “Your promise is no good to me when I’m with you against my will.”

Okay, good point. But he wasn’t letting her go until they were back on the road, because he wasn’t going to risk her getting out of the truck this close to Gaines. “I’m sorry.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.”

“No, I’m sorry about whatever happened to you.”

Abby went so still he doubted she was even breathing. Slowly she lifted her gaze to meet his, and then he wasn’t breathing, because there, revealed for him to see, was such pain he nearly staggered backward.

In the loaded silence came the startlingly loud click of the gas pump, signaling that the tank was full, and she blinked and turned away.

Moment over.

By the time Hawk got back into the truck, with her hurriedly scooting over so that he wouldn’t have to touch her, she’d regained her control.

And reestablished her silence.

He started the engine, but she cleared her throat and rattled the handcuffs.

Right. Hoping he wasn’t being an idiot, he pulled out onto the highway before he tossed the key into her lap. She wouldn’t do anything stupid at sixty-five miles per hour, he figured.

Hoped.

Abby grabbed the key. Bending her head, she set herself to the task of unlocking the cuffs, her hair falling over his forearm, her breasts inadvertently brushing his bicep. She’d probably have a heart attack if she realized but he had another reaction altogether.

Freed, she rubbed her wrist and stared out the window. Reaching over, he brought her hand close until he could see her skin in the dim light of the console display. She was bruised, abraded and raw.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” she told him.

He closed his lips on the words and pressed his lips to her skin.

She didn’t snatch her hand free, which he considered an excellent sign. Instead, her breath caught as if maybe she liked his touch after all, as if maybe she was finally going to surrender her aggression and fear, and soften toward him. At least in his dreams.

“Why would he show himself to you?”

His eyes met hers. So she hadn’t decided that he was completely full of shit. He’d take that. “I think it was sheer cockiness, to tell you the truth. Sort of like, look what I pulled off.”

“But to play both sides…It’s so crazy dangerous.”

“He’s dying tonight, remember,” he reminded her. “In essence, retiring.”

“After getting rid of his loose ends.”

“Yes.”

“Like you.”

“Yes.”

She nodded, clearly holding it together by a string, and he wanted to touch her so badly, just to let her know she wasn’t alone.

“I keep going back,” she said. “To when I was working on the Kiddie Bombers in Seattle.”

He slanted her a glance. “Something clicking?”

“There were several times when things went down like tonight, when Gaines showed up at raids no one expected him to be at. To watch the takedowns, he always said.” She shook her head. “Once I questioned him on that.”

“And he was thrilled.”

“He brushed me off.” Abby shook her head. “And I let him. I discounted all of it until now. But I’m thinking that on the off chance I was getting too close…” She closed her eyes. “I’m a loose end, too.”

“Yes, but you’re an alive one,” he reminded her. “Let’s keep it that way. First, your computer.”

“And then what? We draw him out in order to prove he’s alive?”

It was the first real sign he’d had that she might believe him. “I like the way you think, and yeah. He needs to be drawn out.”

Which Hawk would do alone, because no way in hell did he plan on letting Gaines anywhere near her. In fact, he needed to find a safe place for her until this was over. And yet…and yet there was a small part of him that couldn’t deny what it felt like having her with him.

Because with her here, he wasn’t alone. As disastrously bad as the night had gone, as bad as it could still get, he wasn’t alone.

Cheyenne Memorial Hospital

LOGAN WOKE UP IN A WHITE ROOM filled with beeping equipment and a sterile smell that made him groan in disgust.

A hospital.

He hated hospitals, always had. His asshole father had put him in several, until the state had finally decided, oh, gee, maybe we’d better do our job and remove the kid from his situation. Logan had thrived in foster homes, but thanks in no small part to his wild streak, he’d still managed to land himself in various emergency rooms all on his own.

Then there’d been Special Forces and the time he and Hawk had been nearly shot to kingdom come when their convoy had been hit in the Gulf.

Since then, however, he’d actually managed to stay hospital free, though he had a running bet with Hawk-one hundred bucks on which of them would run out of luck first.

And damn it, now he’d lost. Unless he could get himself checked out before Hawk found out…

Something rustled at his side, and a face swam in front of his. Fiery red hair, black-rimmed glasses, mossy eyes and well-glossed lips.

His sweet angel, who’d been with him when he’d been dreaming about Playboy bunnies, and when he’d ended up tossing his cookies at her feet.

Oh, yeah, that had been a highlight.

Still the sight of her made him want to smile. When he did, a whole new kind of pain swam through him. “Oh, shit.”

“Careful.” She cupped his jaw, her hand blessedly cool on his burning skin. “Stay still.”

He let out a raw laugh. “Yeah. Not so good at that.”

“I’d suggest trying.”

She’d seen him at his absolute worst and was still here. Other than Hawk, that was a rarity for him. And worth everything. He could look at her all day. Hell, all week. He felt dazzled. Dizzy.

But that might have been the pain meds. “You stayed.”

She put her deliciously cool hand on his forehead. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“When was I gone?”

“You’ve been pretty out of it. Your boss called and he sounded devastated at what had happened to you.”

“Tibbs?”

“I didn’t catch his name. He said he’d see you soon.”

“Southern accent so thick he sounds like his cheeks are filled with marbles?”

“No. Sort of a rushed, clipped voice.”

At that, images flashed to him from the barn. Everything going to shit. The shadow on the roof with him. Looking down and seeing something, someone on the ground, looking up at him just before the hit to the head.