didn’t feel safe, even at the door to her apartment, where she stood frozen, listening for any sign of intruders. But there was no sound except the low whir of her refrigerator. Her locks had not been touched.
Was she really safe?
The past hour was a blur, and she gave up trying to process it. Instead she dropped her purse and jacket and headed for the bathroom. The sight of her face in the mirror stopped her cold. She had the beginning of a black eye, cuts on both arms, and a long welt down her right cheek. Her condition would have been far worse if the SEAL hadn’t appeared out of the darkness to protect her. Nell still couldn’t figure out how he’d found her—or why. Only one person would have that answer.
Her hands were shaking as she dialed her father. After six unsuccessful tries, she tossed the phone down on her bed. Nothing made sense.
Her clock read 3:04 a.m.
Impossible to believe that in sixty-eight minutes her life had collapsed in on itself like a black hole, dropping her straight into a nightmare.
Meanwhile, she had cuts to attend to. Quickly, she bandaged her arms, then washed her face. One of the bullets had grazed her calf, and she cleaned that next. She’d had enough falls while climbing that the shallow wound didn’t panic her.
Finally done, she looked around her silent apartment, trying to plan her next move. The logical choice was to find her father and pray that he had a solid explanation. If not, she would have to go to the police.
Cool air drifted across her face. Out of the corner of her eye Nell saw the curtains drift out above her kitchen window. She swung around so fast that she dropped a box of bandages.
A shadow crossed the kitchen.
Dakota was back, and he looked mad as hell.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“YOU’RE…SAFE.” NELL heard her voice crack. She felt cornered as he studied her in taut silence. “Allan, the homeless man on the street—did you see if he was okay?”
“An ambulance picked him up. He was loudly demanding food and a hot bath when they left. I take that for a yes.”
Nell felt a wave of relief, but it didn’t last long. Dakota looked hard and distant, like a complete stranger.
An angry stranger.
He stalked closer, eyes narrowed on her face. His powerful shoulders were outlined by a black turtleneck, his legs encased in dark jeans. This was definitely a man you didn’t want to mess with, Nell thought.
But he owed her some answers, and she was going to get them. “Why are you here?”
“You tell me.”
Nell crossed her arms and fought the urge to back up. “I don’t know what you mean.” Why did the man seem to fill her living room?
“I doubt that.”
Nell ignored the challenge in his voice. “You’re certain that my friend was conscious when the ambulance came?”
“Positive. Now why don’t you stop worrying about him, and start worrying about what just happened to you. Those men in the alley weren’t playing around, Nell. Neither am I.”
“Did you—are they—alive?”
“One took a round in the chest.” Dakota’s voice was clipped. “He’s gone. Two others got banged up. They’re in custody now, and I’ll be interested in what they have to say. The rest ran when the cruisers got close. Why don’t you give me your version?”
Nell cradled her bandaged arm. “I don’t have a version. You’re not making any sense. And how do you know where I live?”
“My question first. What were you doing in that alley?”
She stood rigidly. “Walking home from work. Then boom—those men appeared.” Her voice wavered. “And if you hadn’t arrived when you did, I probably wouldn’t be here.”
The cool look in his eyes told her he agreed. “Nice move on the rain gutter. But if you’d lost your hold, I’d be scraping you off the pavement right now.” Frowning, he lifted one of her bandaged hands. “It was reckless and unnecessary.”
“But I didn’t lose my hold, and it gave you time to deal with them without me slowing you down. So it was hardly unnecessary.” She pulled away, angry at him and angry that her life was slipping out of control. She needed to think, but she couldn’t, not with Dakota studying her as if she was some kind of one-celled lab specimen. “If you won’t tell me why you’re here, you’d better leave.”
He did some muttering, then stalked toward her kitchen, ignoring her completely.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting some water. It’s been a trying night.”
“I said, I want you to leave or I’ll—”
“Take one.” A water bottle flew in her direction. Nell caught it by instinct.
“Go get packed.”
“Packed for what? Why should I?”
“We’re leaving. Together. In ten minutes.”
Oh, sure she was.
He stared at the luminous dial of his watch and pushed a button that changed one of the sets of numbers.
Nell had never seen a watch do that before. The fiber of his turtleneck seemed strange too. Heavier than cotton, it looked smooth and tensile; it also appeared to shed water. Nell stared at the drops that dotted his sleeve.
Dotted, but didn’t sink in.
She watched more letters scroll over the face of his watch. “Who are you?”
“Someone you’ll have to trust,” he said flatly. “Whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t like it, Navy. And I’m going nowhere with you.” She didn’t bother to explain that trust wasn’t part of her vocabulary.
But she wanted answers about the thugs who had followed her into the alley and what her father had to do with them. Clearly, this man knew what was going on. It was equally clear that he assumed she knew too. “Look, let’s talk.”
“Later.” He walked past her down the hall toward her closet. “Where’s your suitcase?”
When he saw that she hadn’t moved, he took a long drink from his water bottle and pulled a file from the backpack angled against her antique coffee table. “Okay, I’ll spell it out. I need you to do a job.” He spoke curtly, as if he wasn’t happy about the prospect. “It’s all there in the file. You can read it on the way.”
“This is a joke, right? I barely know you, and I have a full schedule of restoration commissions for the next six months. Even if I didn’t, why would I consider—”
“Because you don’t have any choice. And because those men in the alley won’t be the last ones who come looking for you. Most of all, because this is the only way you can help your father.”
HE WAS EITHER GOING to strangle her or pin her against the wall and tear off all her clothes, Dakota thought grimly. Right now the odds were running about fifty-fifty.
He never lost his calm, never broke a sweat. Not during a mission and definitely not with a woman. But for some reason Nell MacInnes punched through his detachment and hit raw nerves he didn’t know he possessed. She hadn’t fallen apart in the alley, and she’d surprised him when she’d climbed up that rain gutter, all edgy grace and fearlessness.
Her move up on the roof had scared the hell out of him. He knew she was an excellent climber, but the fool could have lost her grip and landed on her head. End of story.
And now he was stuck with her.
Dakota cut off a