Hero in Her Heart. Marta Perry

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      Gabe followed the Lang woman out into the tiled hallway, feeling as if he’d been kicked in the gut. He’d expected this little soirée to be bad. He just hadn’t expected it to be that bad.

      Anger and resentment roiled through him. This wasn’t fair. The chief had no right to subject him to this humiliation.

      Nolie Lang punched the elevator button. He stood behind her, seething. He would not favor his bad leg when he moved. He could control the limp. He couldn’t control the seizures.

      A chill went down his spine. What if he had one right here, right now, falling down in front of her on the polished tile floor?

      No. That wasn’t going to happen. He’d had his last seizure, he was sure of it.

      He shook his head, feeling like a bull shaking off a swarm of angry bees. People had been shooting darts into his hide since the accident. First it was the doctor, saying he couldn’t predict if or when the lesion on his brain would heal. Then his mother, fussing over him endlessly and insisting he move back home to recuperate.

      A fat lot of good that had done. He’d given up trying to feel human again while watching his father and brothers kid him about taking a vacation from work as they tried to hide the fear in their eyes that he’d never be back to normal.

      The elevator came. Nolie Lang stepped in, and he followed her. At least she was quiet. He’d expected her to be on him the moment they left the office, trying to convince him that this program of hers would work.

      Apparently she’d nearly persuaded Samuel Henley. So Henley had leaned on the chief, and the chief had leaned on him. The pecking order at work…and he was caught in it. Either he volunteered for the Lang woman’s project or he wouldn’t be returning to active duty any time soon.

      Nolie Lang didn’t look like a very formidable barrier. She was almost plain, with her tanned face free of makeup and her pale blond hair held back with a tie at the nape of her neck. Repressed, maybe that was the word. The only time he’d seen passion in those light blue eyes had been when she’d talked about her work.

      Her work. She didn’t want Gabe Flanagan. She wanted a guinea pig on which to try out her theories.

      Well, it wasn’t going to be him. He almost said so, but the elevator reached the garage level, and the few minutes it took to evade several people getting on while they got off was long enough to make him think before he spoke.

      He wanted out of this business, but he couldn’t get out. So he had to convince the woman to let him off the hook. Nolie Lang was just another obstacle to his getting back to the work he was born to do. He’d go through her if he had to, but first he’d try getting her to cooperate with him.

      Their feet echoed on the concrete floor of the parking level. She glanced at him.

      “Is your leg bothering you?”

      A flame of anger went through him that he’d let his guard slip, made hotter that she’d noticed.

      “No.” That came out almost like a snarl, which was not the way to gain the woman’s cooperation. “It’s healing.”

      “That’s good.” She walked briskly toward a dusty station wagon, apparently not concerned enough about his leg to slow down. Or maybe she took him at his word that he was all right.

      “Look.” His voice halted her as she unlocked the wagon, her square, competent hand freezing on the handle. “Maybe we ought to talk. We both know Henley’s idea is a bad one.”

      She surveyed him, her eyes expressionless. “I generally find that’s not a good thing to say to the man with the money.”

      He hunched his shoulders. “That’s what the chief thinks, too. But that doesn’t mean this is going to work.”

      “Maybe.” She swung the passenger door open and held it for him.

      Resentment bubbled again as he swung himself inside. He didn’t like depending on other people to haul him around. The first thing that had happened after he’d had a seizure was the doctor pulling his driver’s license.

      She rounded the car and got in. He swallowed the urge to rant at her. Think, don’t react, he commanded himself.

      “What’s this for?” He tapped the mesh screen behind the front seat as she turned the ignition.

      “Keeps the dogs from jumping in front.”

      “I thought your animals were well-trained enough to help people. Surely they don’t misbehave in the car.”

      If the jab bothered her, she didn’t show it. She just backed out and started down the winding concrete ramp.

      “Sometimes I pick up strays.” She slowed as they reached the garage exit. “Which way?”

      “Go right.” Okay, maybe annoying her wasn’t the best way of getting her on his side. “Look, you said it yourself. I’m not a good candidate for this project.”

      Her cool profile didn’t tell him a thing about what she was feeling. “I only said that if you weren’t interested, this probably wouldn’t work well.”

      “I’m not interested.” He fought the longing to shout the words at her. “I’m only doing this because the chief insisted, and he’s not a man you can argue with.”

      He was also the man who held the power to decide whether Gabe went back on active duty or had to settle for a desk job. Or, worse, a disability retirement.

      No. The denial burned in his brain.

      “It seems to me we’re both stuck.” She brushed a strand of pale blond hair behind her ear. “You have to do what your chief says. I have to do what Henley says if I want to get my grant.”

      “You could talk to him again. Tell him someone else would work out better.”

      Her hands moved restlessly on the wheel, stroking it as if it were a pet. “He wants you.”

      “Because of the publicity.” Pictures of him on the front page of the local paper, flanked by pictures of the two firefighters who’d died that day.

      “I suppose even philanthropists want positive publicity. You’re a hero.”

      The word dropped on him like acid. “Believe me, nothing is staler than yesterday’s hero.”

      “Obviously, Samuel Henley doesn’t think so.” She slanted a sideways glance at him. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

      The attack went under his guard, and for a moment he couldn’t speak.

      “It doesn’t,” he said when he thought he could control his voice. “I’m just saying that the whole idea is futile. As I understand it, you need someone who can prove this seizure dog thing of yours works.”

      “I already know it works.” There was that passion again, flaring in her eyes as she shot a look at him.

      “Okay, bad choice of words. You need someone to show the foundation the value of СКАЧАТЬ