Collector's Item (11 page)

When something dark and cautious touched his gaze, she turned her hand to grip his wrist. “I swear, Peyton, after what we almost just did.” She laughed. “If you try to dismiss this or take that back, I’ll have to hurt you.”

He searched her face for a moment and then the tension eased out of him. “I could never dismiss you, Katarina Teresa Marant. You’re the most un-dismissible woman I’ve ever met. I’ll bet Anton’s the only man who’s ever forced you to back down.”

KT released his wrist as heat washed over her face. There it was, the challenge that most of the alphas she’d met could not accept. It was now or never. She stared at him, her chin lifted just enough to show her pride. “He was, until you pinned me to the floor of my apartment.”

Peyton chuckled as he reached up to run his thumb over her lips. “I hope that’s not how we solve all our disagreements.”

His chuckle and teasing touch made her want to squirm. Instead, she forced herself to give a casual shrug. “No. I suspect some will end with
you
pinned to the floor.” The images that flashed through her head made her breathing hitch, and she heard an echoing stutter in his.

A knock on the door brought KT to her feet, scrambling to button her shirt. She bent to pick up the forgotten cards from the floor when the nurse pushed the door open. When KT straightened, decorum restored, she stifled a chuckle to see Peyton had raised one knee under the sheets to hide a very obvious bulge at his groin. The musky traces of their mutual arousal filled the air. Face warm with embarrassment, she lifted a hand to brush her hair behind her ear and hide her blush as she turned aside.

The nurse couldn’t have missed that scent, but she gave no sign. “Mr. Peyton, time for your meds.” She paused and looked down at the cards lying on the floor. “Playing 52 Pick Up?”

“No, Ms. Marant is a sore loser,” Peyton replied as he shifted position against the pillows. He caught the fist KT turned to aim his way and gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Actually, she’s a pretty good loser. She just can’t shuffle worth a damn.”

KT glared at him and resumed picking up the cards. She listened to Peyton’s mono-syllabic responses to the nurse’s cheerful chatter about the weather and his progress while the woman gave him his meds, checked his IV, and typed entries into the notebook computer she carried.

Reassembling the deck gave KT’s pulse time to settle to a normal rate. She leaned against the wall opposite the bed, stared at the footboard, and waited until the nurse left.

After the nurse’s departure, silence dropped between them like a curtain. KT tried not to imagine climbing over the footboard, stalking on all four up the length of his body to pick up where they had left off.

No matter what he said, he wasn’t in any shape for what they had almost begun, and not even a private hospital room provided sufficient privacy for the kind of encounter she was envisioning. KT could not control the smile that curved her lips when she finally raised her gaze to meet his.

One of his eyebrows lifted. “You look like the cat that ate the canary.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Well, that’s one way to put what I’m thinking. Just be glad you’re convalescing or I’d have you in a pretty compromising position about now.”

He patted the mattress beside him. “Come up here and I’ll show you compromising.”

She shook her head and tried to soften the refusal with a teasing tone. “Tempting as that may be, and trust me, it’s very tempting, if I join you on that bed, things are likely to get way out of hand.” She made a gesture to the half-open door.

“Exactly,” Peyton growled, the thrumming of his desire made her lock her knees to keep them from buckling. He took a deep breath and his expression cooled, just a little. “But you have a point.” That touch of caution returned to darken his eyes and the muscles in his jaw tightened.

She stepped forward to grip the footboard to remind herself not to push it. “How about a rain check? You’re going to be out of here in a few days. We can take this up somewhere more private and then we’ll try all the compromising positions we can think of.”

The tension eased from Peyton’s jaw and shoulders as he nodded. “You’re on. I’ll be out of here tomorrow. How about I come to the compound and we’ll take it from there?”

“Done!” She lifted the deck of cards and smiled as she waggled it at him.

“Now, how about we continue my education in card-sharking?”

Chapter Eleven

As she stepped off the elevator into the hospital lobby, KT grimaced at the rain streaking the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Again?”

She turned up the collar of her jacket and paused to let Henry precede her through the sliding glass doors. The bodyguard had appeared at her side last night when she left the hospital heading for the penthouse.

He paused just outside, flicked open an umbrella, and waved a waiting limo forward. When it slid to a stop, he opened the door, the umbrella held over the opening.

She darted forward and climbed in. “Thanks.”

The door closed, but before he could reach the front passenger side door, the limo surged away from the curb, throwing KT against the cushions as the locks clicked. Fear, combined with the chill of the air conditioning, hit her like ice. Andi’s snarl of fury surged, and faded.

Even while her brain registered the locks, KT lunged for the door handle and jerked at it. Through the window she saw Henry throw aside the umbrella and yank a gun out his coat. Two flares followed by two thunks in the armored wheel well had no effect. While pedestrians dove for cover, a taxi veered in behind the limo, blithely unaware of the danger, and blocked further shots.

“Hello, KT.”

KT turned around. Her aunt peered at her through the glass separating the driver’s compartment from the passenger’s. Dark hair fell across Patricia’s eyes in a wavy veil above a Cheshire-cat smile. Her gaze sparkled through the strands with an unsettling intensity.

“Aunt Patricia? What’s going on?”

“I’d have thought it was patently obvious,” said the driver. His voice, and Patricia’s, came through the car speakers.

KT glared into the rearview mirror at a pair of dark brown eyes beneath the brim of the chauffeur’s cap. “Torne! What did you do with my driver?”

Torne exchanged a glance with Patricia. “She’s quite the little humanitarian, isn’t she?” He turned his attention back to the traffic, although he did shoot KT one quick glance. “He’ll be fine, if they find him quick enough. Your kind are so resilient.”

KT looked at her aunt, searching for any sign of injury, hint of fear. “Aunt Patricia? What has he done to you? Is he threatening you?” Her panic should have touched off a reaction from Andi, but the jag’s presence moved sluggishly.

Patricia gave a little laugh accompanied by a deeper chuckle from Torne. “Threatening me? No, dear, why would he do that?” She reached out and stroked the back of her fingers along the angle of Torne’s jaw. “We’re partners.” She turned back to KT. “We’ll talk later. You look a little sleepy. Why don’t you relax and enjoy the ride?”

The strong scent of the air conditioning caught KT’s attention, and her hands curled into fists. Salison! Vaporized and pumped into the passenger compartment! Her nose crinkled as her vision darkened on the edges. Salison
and
some kind of sedative.

KT fought hard, trying to keep her metabolism ramped up to throw off the heaviness that weighed her limbs and eyelids. She could burn off any normal sedative in moments, but she suspected whatever they were pushing into the rear of the limo was more than just any sedative. The addition of salison to the cocktail further dampened her defenses.

Desperate, she pounded on the windows, knowing that the smoked glass would make it nearly impossible for anyone to see her. As the sedative worked its way through her system, her blows made less and less sound. Her hands dropped and she tilted sideways onto the cushions of the deep back seat, her vision blurring.

A tiny part of KT’s mind wondered why the fumes weren’t having any effect on Patricia or Torne. Then she noticed the thick black border around the edges of the glass separating the two compartments. Of course. They put something around it to seal the compartment.

KT fought to remain conscious, straining to follow Patricia and Torne’s conversation through the speakers but the words refused to form clearly, sounds swirling into a senseless din until the darkness closed around her completely and she was lost.

****

The sharp double tap of gunshots yanked Peyton out of a light doze. He sat up to stare at the window of his room, listening intently. The shrill squeal of rubber accompanied by blaring horns echoed off the walls of the buildings around the hospital, making it hard for him to determine direction.

Trouble!
Max’s anxiety bristled against the skin at the back of Peyton’s neck.

Peyton glanced at the clock on the wall. Had it been enough time for KT to get to street level?

A rapid muttering outside the door of his hospital room preceded Agent Winston’s entrance. The dark-suited Alliance man had introduced himself right after KT left. The man’s gaze swept the room and settled on Peyton. “Captain Allers is secure.”

KT!

Peyton’s pulse spiked, making the machine beside his bed squawk in objection. A growl rumbled through his chest. He yanked the IV needle from the back of his hand and tossed it aside. When he pulled the sensors from his chest, another machine went into hysterics.

“Sir! Captain Allers. Calm down.” Agent Winston stepped forward and tried to stop Peyton from climbing out of the bed.

Mistake.

Peyton surged to his feet and landed a solid right that snapped the other man’s head back. To his credit, Agent Winston shook off the blow and caught Peyton’s fist before he could go for a second punch. With a hard, fast twist, he pulled Peyton’s arm around behind his back.

“Calm down, captain. They’re already gone.”

Peyton snarled. He braced his bare feet on the cold linoleum and tried to ease the man’s hold, but failed to gain any ground.

Max roiled under Peyton’s skin, furious
. Hunt! Our female is in danger.

Peyton took a deep breath and growled at the agent. “Tell me what the hell’s going on.”

The man did not loosen his grip. “Someone hijacked the Marant limo and took off, with KT Marant inside.”

Peyton struggled to rein in his reaction. Hard to do when all he and Max wanted to do was tear out of the hospital and find KT.

Control!
He snapped at Max. The jag settled with a snarl.

Peyton took a breath and tried to speak reasonably. “Release me, agent.”

“Not until you calm down.”

A nurse skidded to a stop in the doorway, her glance taking in the scene, a syringe in her hand.

Salison. Peyton tensed and the other man’s grip tightened.

The nurse took a careful step forward. “Can you hold him?”

Agent Winston snorted. “While you come at him with that?”

“I’ll get an orderly.” The woman turned away. Peyton took the distraction to hook the other man’s ankle and sweep his foot from underneath him. Peyton yanked himself free when the startled agent’s grip loosened. The man hit the floor with a solid thud.

The nurse fled, shouting for assistance.

Peyton took two steps toward the closet before the Alliance man’s arms closed around his chest.

“Sir! You have to calm down.”

Peyton bent his knees, braced and twisted; pain shot through barely healed muscles. The agent went over Peyton’s shoulder and hard against the wall. Peyton wrapped his hand around the man’s throat and tightened. He bared his teeth around a low growl of warning.

Agent Winston froze, recognizing the threat, his arms falling to his sides. Peyton stared into the agent’s light grey eyes. “I appreciate your dedication to duty, agent, but I’m through being polite.” Peyton tightened his fingers enough to make the man start to pant. “Now, I’m going to change clothes and check myself out of this place. If you’re smart, you’ll let me go. If you aren’t, you’ll be needing that bed behind me. Do you understand?”

The man’s eyes darted toward the doorway and the squeak of rubber soles outside in the hall. The nurse was headed back, probably with reinforcements. Peyton tightened his fingers again; Agent Winston’s eyes began to bulge a little.

“Now, I asked you a question, agent.”

“Yes, sir.” The agent managed to wheeze out and Peyton released him. The man slumped against the wall, his hand at his throat, as he gasped for air.

Peyton stepped back and positioned himself to watch the agent and the portion of hall beyond the door. He figured he could handle a hospital orderly or two. Planting his feet, he concentrated on the door.

Ham stepped into the doorway and Peyton lowered his hands, taking slow breaths. As the adrenaline began to drain away, Peyton’s newly healed chest and shoulder muscles began throbbing, which he ignored. Carefully, he straightened and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. A pose meant to look casual, and helped ease some of the pain.

Ham stepped into the room, his dark brown gaze taking in both the agent who snapped to attention at his appearance and Peyton’s casual pose. A different, older nurse followed on his heels, a syringe clutched in her hand like a wooden stake.

“Agent Winston, you’re relieved.” Ham jerked his thumb over one shoulder. “Let one of the nurses check you out before you report to base.”