Married To The Mob. Ginny Aiken

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      “How much longer is she going to sleep?” Dan asked, frustrated.

      Dr. Wong retained his calm. “We don’t know, Agent Maddox. It depends on how she reacts to pain meds, plus a number of other variables.”

      “I have to get her out of here.” Dan began to pace. “They nearly got her this time.”

      “This time?”

      “That’s why she’s in the Witness Protection Program.” When they’d first brought Carlie into the hospital, Dan had no alternative but to reveal his identity and their situation. It was the only way he could get adequate protection for his charge.

      “Then I’d better not ask you more questions.”

      Relief felt good. “I appreciate that. And I appreciate the care you’re taking with her.”

      “It’s all in a day’s work,” the young doctor said with a grin. “I’ll alert the rest of the staff. I’m sure they’re dying to know about Carlie’s vast and professionally serious extended family.”

      “Thanks.” Dan hadn’t known how he was going to disguise the crew his boss, Eliza, had sent. The doctor’s understanding would go a long way in keeping things under some kind of control.

      “But, Mr. Maddox?” the doctor said. “You yourself need to rest. You took in a big wallop of smoke, almost as much as Carlie did. And those burns of yours can get infected very easily.”

      Dan shrugged. “It’s all in a day’s work.”

      “Tripped up by my own words.” Dr. Wong punctuated his words with a wry grin. He tapped his forehead in a salute, then turned and left the room.

      Dan returned to his sentry post on the nasty green pleather chair next to Carlie’s bed. But his patience wasn’t much to write home about, and before too long, he paced again from the foot of the bed to the large window that looked out on congested traffic.

      “Noooooooo!”

      The ear-splitting scream shocked him still for a moment. Then he spun, ran to Carlie’s side, and found her scooted up hard against the headboard, her legs bent at the knee, her medicine tree tipped partway over the bed.

      Horror contorted her beautiful features, and the slight smudge of soot under her right eye, one the nurses missed when they’d cleaned her, added to the atypical, weirdly tough-girl look she now wore.

      “Get out of here!” she yelled. With her non-IVed hand, she scrabbled through the pile of sheets and blanket at her side. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she wanted to find, who she wanted to summon.

      “It’s okay, Carlie. It’s me, Dan Maddox. You’re fine. The hospital and I are taking good care of you.”

      A bulldog expression replaced the horror on her face. “I don’t know what your game is, bub, but you’re not Dan Maddox. He has gorgeous blond hair. You don’t have any.”

      Something in Dan leaped when she admired his hair. But it soon settled down thanks to reality. “Carlie, it is me. They shaved my head because so much of my hair got singed when I went after you in the barn.”

      She wrinkled her nose, and drew close. “You sound like Dan, but you look a little alien, kind of like that weird guy on the bottle, that Mr. Clean on TV commercials.”

      “Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted to make a beautiful woman think of floor cleaner.”

      “Now I know you’re not Dan Maddox. He’d never tell me I’m beautiful. He’d call me trouble, a pain, crazy and who knows how many other snotty names.”

      What could he tell her? That he had to force himself to think of her along those “snotty” lines to keep him from thinking of her as the drop-dead gorgeous woman she really was? That he didn’t want to admit her quirky sense of humor made it tough for him to keep from laughing? That he was scared to death he might fall for her over the duration of his assignment?

      Not in this lifetime.

      “I’m sorry you think I’m snotty, but you are a handful,” is what he went with. “And you don’t make my job—keeping you alive—any easier.”

      “Oh.” She seemed to melt into her pillow. “You are Dan after all. Well, I guess that’s good. You really look scary, though. Wouldn’t want to bump into you in a dark alley.”

      “Maybe that’ll help us. Just think. Maybe I’ll scare your brother’s buddies away.”

      She snorted. “That’s not even funny. They’re pretty determined.” She settled down under her blanket again. “So what’s our next move?”

      “It’s not all sewn up yet, but one thing’s for sure. We’re leaving the mid-Atlantic area ASAP. They got your apartment, and they followed us to the Millers’ place.”

      Before Carlie had a chance to comment, a knock at the door drew their attention. Dan slipped his hand inside his jacket then nodded for her to answer.

      He never would have guessed the identity of her visitor. Fourteen-year-old Jonas Miller walked in, his steps hesitant, his face flushed, his old-fashioned button-down shirt and dark navy pants an СКАЧАТЬ