sighed and leaned wearily against the doorjamb. Her red hair was tousled, and she wore a robe. But somehow he doubted she’d had any more sleep than he had. “Like me,” she said, “Mark left his friends behind in Michigan. Maybe his mom or dad would know where he’s gone.”
“His dad only talks about Andy,” Blaine admitted.
“Everybody loved Andy. He was sweet—like Maggie,” she said. “But genuinely sweet. He was a good man who died too soon.”
“What about Mark?” he asked. “Is he a good man?”
She shrugged again.
“Could he be involved in the bank robberies?”
She gasped in surprise.
He narrowed his eyes skeptically at her surprise. “You didn’t figure out that’s why I’m looking for him?”
“I had no idea why you’re looking for him,” she said. “I thought you were just a friend of Maggie’s.”
He was so much more than just friends with her.
“I’m a special agent with the FBI,” he said. “And I’m working the bank robberies—the one where the suspects wear zombie disguises.”
She sighed. “Mark wouldn’t have gotten involved in the robberies on his own.” She laughed now. “God knows he’s no criminal mastermind. He would have only gotten involved because someone asked him—or manipulated him—into getting involved.”
He suspected what she would say next, on whom she would place the blame, but still he had to ask, “Who?”
“Maggie, of course.”
“You think she’s a criminal mastermind?” He could have laughed, too, at that thought. Not that Maggie wasn’t smart. She was. She was also too honest and open to take anything from anyone.
She hadn’t even been willing to take a compliment from him. But then she’d taken his desire—his passion. She’d made love with him, too.
“I think she’s a desperate single woman who’s about to be raising a baby alone,” Tammy Doremire said. “She just might be desperate enough to start stealing.”
He doubted Maggie Jenkins was a bank robber.
And Mrs. Doremire must have seen that doubt because she added, “She’s not above stealing, Agent. Even you think she probably stole my husband.”
He doubted that, too. She thought of Mark as an older brother. But maybe Mark didn’t think of her as a little sister. Maybe he saw her for the sweet, desirable woman that Blaine did.
He pressed his business card into the woman’s hand. “If you see your husband, give me a call. I need to talk to him.”
“If anyone knows where he is,” she said, “it’ll be Maggie. You should ask her where he is.”
“If Maggie knew where he was, I wouldn’t be here,” he said with certainty. He had wasted his time talking to her.
Tammy Doremire glanced down at the card he’d handed her, then called after him when he started walking toward his SUV, “Be careful, Agent Campbell. The most danger you’re in is from Maggie Jenkins.”
He couldn’t argue with her because he suspected she was right. Maggie was dangerous to him—to his heart. But somebody else was a danger to her, and Blaine wouldn’t be able to leave her until he found out who and stopped that person.
* * *
“IF YOU DON’T find him, I will,” Maggie threatened as she struggled to escape her bed. But the oxygen line tugged at her nose and face. And the IV held her like a manacle.
Ash stretched out his hands, as if trying to hold her back. “Maggie, you have to stay here for observation.”
“You don’t,” she said. “Go find him.”
“I’m here for observation, too,” Ash said. “I’m here to observe you.”
“I don’t need observation,” she said. “I need to know that Blaine is really all right. And if you won’t find out for me, I will find out myself.” She struggled to sit up again.
“Blaine will kill me if I leave you,” Ash said. “I promised him I’d watch out for you.”
“Have someone else stand outside the door,” she suggested. “A deputy or another agent.”
“I’ll send one of them to look for him.”
She shook her head, rejecting his offer. A stranger wouldn’t know where to look for Blaine. “You’re his friend. You care about him. I trust you and only you to find him and make sure he’s okay.”
Ash replied, “I am his friend. And that’s why he trusted me to protect you.”
“You’re not protecting me,” she said. “I’m not supposed to get upset because of my blood pressure.” She had been warned that she had to watch it, that she had to make sure that it didn’t stay high. “And not knowing if Blaine is all right is upsetting me.”
“Maggie...”
“Please, go find him,” she urged his friend. “That’s what you can do to protect me.” Because not knowing whether or not Blaine had really survived the fire was the greatest risk to her health.
Ash sighed in resignation. “Damn it, if he’s okay, he’s going to kill me for leaving you. But I’ll make sure the man who replaces me on protection duty can be trusted.”
She wasn’t worried about herself right now. She wasn’t even that worried about the baby. The doctors had assured her that he was fine. Now she needed assurance that Blaine was, too.
Just knowing that Ash was looking for him eased her mind some—enough that she eventually drifted off to sleep. And Blaine popped vividly into her mind.
Naked, his golden skin stretched taut over hard muscles. He had made her feel emotions she had never felt before: lust, passion and love.
She hadn’t wanted to fall in love with him. But it was too late. She had lost her heart to Special Agent Blaine Campbell. And now she may have lost him.
He should have stayed in the hospital—stayed where they could give him oxygen and monitor him to make sure he had no serious aftereffects from the fire. But he’d gone off on his own to track down killers.
Those zombie-masked men had been dangerous enough when Blaine was in full superhero mode. But in his weakened state, with his injuries...
She shuddered to think of what might have happened to him. But she clung to hope the way she clung to the memories of their lovemaking. With her eyes closed, she relived every kiss, every caress.
Her skin grew hot. But not with passion. She smelled the smoke again and felt the heat of the flames. And in her mind those flames began to consume Blaine...
She jerked awake with a scream on her lips. But a hand covered her mouth, holding that cry inside her. So that she couldn’t alert anyone to his presence?
With the lights out, even the bathroom one, she saw only a big, broad-shouldered shadow looming over her. This couldn’t be whoever Ash had asked to take his place protecting her. An agent or a deputy—a real one—wouldn’t have been standing over her in the dark.
Who was this person?
What were his intentions? To smother her with a pillow? Or simply with his big hand?
She reached up, trying to fight him off. And she smelled the smoke again. This time it wasn’t just a vivid memory. This person had been at the fire, too.
“I’m