A Time To Protect. Lois Richer

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      So they’d ordered Alistair’s death, gotten rid of him because he was of no more use—like garbage that needed to be tossed away.

      Not a single tear betrayed the inner turmoil or sheer fury that flared inside. But like a steel shaft, revenge penetrated, burning away any inhibitions that might have caused a change in course. Alistair Barclay would be avenged.

      The car engine roared, the town disappeared, for now. But not for long. Justice must be done, retribution paid. They thought they were so smart, self-righteous and smug. They thought they were immune, just as he thought it. Little did any of them know they were merely cogs in a wheel of reprisal that would crush them.

      Only then would Alistair be avenged.

      Maybe, then, this horrible aching pain would subside.

      Chapter One

      Chole Tanner checked the mayor’s vital signs once more, noted them on the chart, then walked out of the room to collect a new IV drip bag from her cart in the hall, intending to exchange it for the nearly empty one. A hand reached around her, fingers clamped over her wrist.

      “You’re not a nurse. What are you doing?”

      A man appeared in front of her and he was not the middle-aged guard named Sid who’d been seated by the door of the mayor’s room. This man was tall, at least six feet, with the kind of hair she privately labeled “beach boy”—mussed, light brown with golden streaks that reflected the light and made him look as if he’d just left his surfboard and the sand behind.

      Mostly it was his green eyes that fascinated her, frozen bits of emerald that echoed the frost in his voice. “I asked you a question.”

      A reporter trying to get a story? She glared at him.

      “This is an intensive care unit, sir. You are not authorized to be here. I’ll have to ask you to leave.” She stood her ground, her fingers still gripping the bag of fluid, his hand still clasping her wrist. “Now.”

      “I’m not going anywhere and you’ll have a tough time throwing me out, honey.” He grinned, a slow easy smirk that annoyed her intensely.

      “You think so?” Chloe assessed him. Look for the weak spot. In two seconds she’d brought down her other hand in a crack across his wrist and broken his grip. A quick twist of her foot against his knee and he was on the floor.

      “Now, if you don’t mind,” she said quietly, staring at him spread-eagled on the hard white tile, “I have a job to do and the mayor needs new fluids. So please leave or I’ll have you removed.”

      She thought he’d be embarrassed. Most men would be. But this one rose to his feet lithely, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

      “Hey, you’re good!” He dusted off his pants with a chuckle. “But that doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Who are you, anyway?”

      “Chloe Tanner, nurse.” She pointed to her name tag, but realized it wasn’t attached because she was wearing scrubs. “A patient was sick on me and I didn’t have time to do much more than pull these on.” She waited for him to leave. “Visitors are not allowed in Intensive Care. Not today.”

      “I know.” He pulled out his badge, showed her his ID. “Brendan Montgomery. FBI. Can you tell me how the mayor is?”

      “No, I can’t.” She hung on to his badge when he would have pulled it away and gave it a thorough scrutiny. Sid’s police presence in the ward had made her edgy. “Nice badge, I suppose. But it doesn’t say you have any authorization to be on this floor, Mr. Montgomery. We were specifically warned by the police not to allow anyone up here who isn’t on their list. I’ve memorized that list—you’re not there.”

      “Anything wrong?” Sid had risen, laid one hand on his holster.

      “Everything’s fine, Sid. You weren’t expecting anyone else, were you? FBI, maybe?” Chloe saw his negative response and handed back the badge. “I didn’t think so. You, sir, will have to leave. For information about the patient talk to the doctors or the front office. Now if you don’t mind?”

      “Oh, but I do mind, Miss Tanner.” He stood in front of her—tall, muscular, disturbing. A tiny smile flicked up one corner of his lips. “I certainly do mind.” One hand stretched out, then retracted as if he were afraid she’d grab it again. “What color do you call your hair?”

      “My hair?” Without thinking, she touched the top of her head, felt the ponytail still securely tied. “Auburn, but I can’t imagine why it matters. And it’s Mrs. Tanner.”

      “Mrs.?” He frowned as if he’d come upon something smelly and distasteful. “Tanner. For some reason that sounds familiar. What does your husband do?”

      “Not visit his family,” she muttered without thinking.

      “Sorry?” That quizzical look covered his suntanned face again.

      Chloe regrouped.

      “I’m sorry, too, Mr. Montgomery. I’m divorced, so I no longer know nor care what my ex-husband does.” She couldn’t believe she’d told him that. To regain her composure she bent over and retrieved the IV bag. “Much as I’d like to continue this discussion, I have other patients to see to, and an IV to change.”

      She turned her back on him, made the transfer and walked back out to the hall with the empty bag, slightly relieved that the mayor’s guard was there. If anything happened that she couldn’t handle, at least Sid had a gun.

      Her nemesis waited outside the room, watching.

      “Look, СКАЧАТЬ