Killer Body. Elle James

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      Chapter Four

      Dawson gripped Savvy’s arms and steadied her. “Why are you out of bed?”

      She straightened and pushed away from him. “I’m going home.” When she tried to pull free of his hands, his grip tightened.

      “Not until the doc releases you, you aren’t.”

      She stared up at him, her mouth thinning, tears awash in her eyes. “I have to. Don’t you see? I can’t remember anything here. I have to be around my own things.”

      “You can wait until tomorrow.”

      “No.” She reached up to pry his hands loose, her weakened state making her attempt ineffectual. “I can’t wait until tomorrow. Not knowing is driving me crazy. Let me go.” A single tear tipped over the edge of her eyelid and slid down her cheek. “Please.”

      He could have resisted if she’d yelled and screamed at him, but the one tear and her anguished plea jerked at his heart, reawakening the dormant organ. How could he resist those eyes staring up at him as if he held her world in his hands? For a moment, he wavered. “No, it’s not safe out there.”

      Savvy’s lips twisted in a half grin, her eyes shimmering. “And it’s safe here?”

      She had a point. The attack that morning had almost ended his assignment before it had begun. “It’s easier to protect you inside a building than out in the open. The avenues for attack multiply exponentially once you step out the hospital doors.”

      “Either I get attacked outside or I go crazy stuck in my room. I prefer to take my chances.” She brushed away the moisture from her eyes and laid a determined hand on his arm. “Are you with me? Because, if not, I’ll go without you.”

      Electric impulses shot up Dawson’s arm where Savvy’s hand touched him. The low sexy voice, the eyes glittering with unshed tears threatened to bring him to his knees, if he let it. With a hard-won deep breath, he shook off her hand, unwilling to let himself care more about her than the job warranted. “It’s your funeral.” He turned, and without offering her any assistance, he marched toward the exit.

      Liz leaned close and whispered in a not-so-quiet voice, “A bit uptight, if you ask me. But very sexy in that he-man kind a way.” She gave a soft wolf whistle.

      Dawson shook his head. “I heard that.”

      A bright pink flush rose up from Savvy’s collar and flooded her cheeks. “I wouldn’t know. He’s just a bodyguard to me, for the sake of whatever, he’s my fake fiancé.” Her gaze connected with his as if daring him to refute her statement.

      “Not your real fiancé?”

      “No, it just makes it easier for him to get past the nurses.”

      Liz’s cheeks dimpled. “In that case, would you mind if I made a pass at your guy?”

      Savvy’s fingers clenched into fists at her sides, and she bit down hard on her lip. “He’s not mine. Do whatever you like.” She pushed a long strand of strawberry-blond hair over her shoulder and closed the distance between herself and Dawson.

      He’d bet behind that tough-gal exterior, her legs shook and she teetered on the verge of collapse. With her shoulders flung back, she didn’t let a single sign of weakness shine through. She probably thought that if she did, Dawson would have her back in the hospital so fast her head would be spinning more than it already was.

      Damn right he would. But he couldn’t help admiring her pluck. He preferred it over the tears.

      Pausing at the glass door, Dawson performed a three-hundred-sixty-degree turn, his gaze going to every corner of the lobby before he stared out at the street quickly growing dark. A gathering of fifty or sixty people stood in front of the emergency entrance. Scattered among them were news reporters and camerapersons, at the center stood the D.A.

      Savvy peered through the glass. “Why is there a crowd?”