Mine To Hold (18 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Eden

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #stalker, #woman in jeopardy, #contemporary romance, #sensual romance, #military romance, #cynthia eden, #billionaire hero

BOOK: Mine To Hold
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He put Claire down on the sidewalk.
“Baby?”

Her eyes were still closed. He brushed back
her hair. Blood was on his fingers, and it smeared across her
cheek. But when he moved her hair, Noah saw the gash on her head.
About an inch long, and already, the skin around that wound was
turning a dark, bruised purple.

Sirens screamed in the distance. Help, coming
in fast.

“Claire.” He put his hand to her throat. Her
pulse was steady. He checked for other injuries but only saw the
gash on her head.

Be okay, baby. Be okay.

***

They hadn’t gone in the building.

They’d been so close, but Noah had stopped
just steps away from the entrance. He’d gotten that phone call, and
the guy had started to pull Claire back.

He’d had to detonate then. There had been no
choice.

A few steps.
Noah had been so close to
death.

But not as close as Claire.

As he watched, she was loaded into the back
of an ambulance. Noah was with her. Standing so close. Jumping into
the back of that emergency vehicle when she was pushed inside.

He’d wondered just how close Claire and Noah
truly were. Now he realized…

Claire has got to Noah, too.

She had a real talent for drawing in her
lovers. Winding men around her finger. Batting those blue eyes and
getting them to do anything for her.

Lie.

Steal.

Kill.

But Claire wasn’t going to twist him. Her
days of playing games—those days were long over.

He’d missed her and Noah this time.

Next time, they wouldn’t escape. He’d make
sure of it.

***

Claire felt like she’d been hit by a truck.
She opened her eyes slowly and winced at the pain. Her head
throbbed and nausea rolled in her belly as the room before her came
into focus—

And then that nausea just got a whole lot
worse.

“A hospital,” Claire whispered, surprised by
the slightly hoarse sound of her own voice. “No, not—”

“It’s okay.” She turned her head at that deep
voice. Noah was beside her bed. His fingers had curled around her
wrist. “You’re not alone.”

He’d ditched his coat. He wore a white shirt,
one that had flecks of blood over the sleeves. Actually, one sleeve
was cut nearly to the shoulder, and she could see the outline of a
white bandage on his arm.

The shirt was also stained gray—with soot?
Ash?

“The hotel,” Claire said as the memories
pushed through her mind. “It caught on fire.”

His lips tightened. “Two bombs were planted
there.”

Her heartbeat kicked up, and the machines
near her bed began to beat even faster. “The PI tried to kill
us?”

Noah shook his head. His face looked harder,
the faint lines near his eyes deeper than before. “Sloan wasn’t the
one who set up that meeting.”

The throbbing in her head got even worse.
“But you said—”

“I thought I was talking to Sloan, but it
turns out that guy was already dead when I got that phone call to
set up our meeting.”

She jerked beneath his hold.

“Easy,” Noah murmured as his fingers kept
stroking her. “You’ve got a concussion. You have to be
careful.”

The concussion would explain the jackhammer
in her head. “How did he die?” Her voice was stronger. “What
happened to him?”

Noah glanced away from her.

No, no, no—

“He was shot in the head.”

Oh, God.
“I have to get out of here.”
She tried to climb from the bed.

Noah pushed her back. “No, stop it!” He held
her easily in the bed. “I can’t let you hurt yourself.”

“What is happening?” The machines were still
beeping too loudly and fear had her whole body tensing. “The shot
to the head…just like the senator, just like—”

“Your parents,” he finished grimly. His hands
were around her shoulders now. He eased her back into the hospital
bed. “And the bomb…well, we both know a bomb just took out Ethan
Harrison.”

“Someone wanted us to go out that way, too.”
Bombs didn’t just kill. They obliterated. “Why? Why is someone
after me?” But then horror filled her. “
You.”

Noah frowned down at her.

“I-I wasn’t the one called to that hotel. You
were. You were the one who was—” Claire broke off, unable to say
more.

You were the one who was going to die.

She tried to get out of the bed again.

He pushed her back against the pillow.
“Claire, stop it!”

She couldn’t stop. “I need to get away.” She
twisted beneath his hands. “No, you have to get away from me. It’s
happening again.” But he wasn’t letting her go. “
Leave,
Noah,
just leave!”

Instead of leaving, he sat on the edge of the
bed and pulled her into his arms. “You’re okay.”

This time, she was. He was. What about next
time? “It’s because of me,” Claire managed to say.

Noah eased back just enough to peer down at
her.

“You almost died…because of me.” Because he’d
gotten involved with her. He’d helped her.

I won’t let him suffer because of me.

“It’s not because of you.” Intensity hardened
each word. “Some bastard out there is playing some sort of sick
game.” He shook his head. “And he’s playing with the wrong
man.”

This wasn’t a game. “You need to stay away
from me.” He had to see that.

Everyone close to me dies.

“That’s not happening,” he said.

Then I have to stay away from you.

The door opened behind Noah then, swinging in
with a soft swoosh of sound. Noah glanced toward the door, but he
didn’t release Claire. Claire followed his gaze.

She instantly recognized the man who stood in
the doorway. Tall, with broad shoulders, the guy had a handsome,
but hard face and glittering blue eyes.

Trace Weston.
He’d been her sister’s
boss, and Sara had looked up to him so much.

Sara had also feared him.

“Claire?” The soft, feminine voice came from
the woman beside Trace—his new wife, Skye. Skye hurried toward the
bed. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, and her pretty face
reflected her concern. “Are you all right?”

No, Claire was pretty sure she might shatter
into a million pieces at any moment. “Someone tried to kill
us.”

Noah slid from the bed.

Skye came closer. She started to touch
Claire, then hesitated.

She knows I don’t like to be touched.
Skye understood Claire far better than any other woman had. Maybe
it was because Skye had been through her own nightmare. Stalked,
kidnapped, starved…Skye had managed to survive, but the horrific
nightmare had marked her.

We’re both marked. On the skin, and deep
within.

Skye’s hand hesitantly curved over Claire’s
shoulder. “You’re safe now. Trace has two men guarding your
hospital room door, and he’s going to keep a guard on you until we
can figure out what’s happening.”

Claire glanced toward the doorway. Noah was
leading Trace back out of the room. “Noah?” Claire called.

He glanced back at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be
right outside.”

There was something…different…in his eyes. A
wildness. A fury.

It scared her.

The door shut softly behind him.

***

“She nearly died,” Noah snarled as soon as he
was out of that hospital room.

The two guards near her door glanced at him
with wide eyes.

He glared at them.

Trace caught his shoulder and steered him
toward the corner. “She didn’t die. You got her out of there.”

Noah yanked a hand through his hair. He
couldn’t cool the rage that burned him from the inside out. “Only
because you called. If that phone had rung two minutes later, hell,
even
one
minute later, we’d both be dead.”

Trace crossed his arms over his chest. “Then
I guess it’s a good thing you answered your old friend’s call.”

Noah surged toward him. “I
won’t
lose
her.”

Trace’s eyebrows flew up. “Shit, who are
you?”

“What?” Noah’s hands fisted. He wasn’t in the
mood for any bull. Not even from Trace. “Man, don’t push me, I
don’t—”

“You’re losing your control right in front of
me. This doesn’t happen to the Noah York I know.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, it’s happening. Claire was
in my arms, and she wasn’t moving.” He swung away from the guy. He
wanted to drive his fist into the nearest wall. He did. When a
nurse shrieked, he snarled, “I’ll buy a new wing!”

Because he might be destroying this one.

Trace’s hand settled on his shoulder once
more. “Talk to me.”

Noah whirled back toward him. “When that
bastard had Skye, when you thought you’d lose her…
how did you
stay sane?”

Trace exhaled on a rough sigh. “Is it that
bad?”

It was worse. Noah felt like he was ripping
apart. “She was bleeding. I couldn’t get her to open her eyes.”
That image would never get out of his head. “Fire was lighting the
sky, glass was raining down, and Claire was too still.”

Trace took a step back.

“I
won’t
let her go,” Noah said. He
couldn’t. “No one is going to hurt her again. I’ll make sure of it.
I’ll find the SOB. I’ll—”

“Watch what you say,” Trace interjected,
voice flat. A wave of his hand indicated the folks lurking close
by.

Hell, half of the hospital seemed to be
staring at them.

“And you aren’t doing anything alone.” Trace
gave a grim nod. “Because you know I’ve got your back.”

***

“I haven’t seen you since the funeral,” Skye
said carefully. She gave Claire a faint smile. “And I was sure
hoping when we met again, it would be under better
circumstances.”

Claire realized this hardly counted as
“better” than anything. “I’m scared,” she admitted. Confessing that
truth to Skye wasn’t hard. She’d only met Skye a few times, but
Claire had never felt as if Skye judged her.

She knows what it’s like to be helpless.

“What can I do?” Skye asked her.

“Help me to get away.”

Skye’s eyes flared. “You don’t mean—”

“Noah could’ve died because of me. They’re
all
dying because of me. The senator, Ethan, Sloan Hall—they
were all tied to me.” The senator who harassed her, the lover who
nearly killed her, and the PI who stalked her. Their one common
denominator—
it’s me.
“Noah was the one who was supposed to
go into that old hotel. He was the one being set up to die.”

“And how will you leaving help him?” Skye
shook her head. “It won’t. It will just drive the guy crazy!”

“Or maybe it will take a target off his
back.”

Skye’s breath caught. “And do what? Put that
target straight on you?”

Maybe. Claire was sitting up on the bed now.
She really wanted to make a run for it. “If I leave, if I change
cities, then, yes, perhaps this guy will come after me and leave
Noah alone.”

A furrow appeared between Skye’s brows. “Just
how hard did you hit your head, Claire? Because I’ve got to say,
that sounds like a real piss-poor idea to me.”

Claire blinked at her in surprise.

“Noah isn’t just going to let you walk away.
I saw the way he looked at you.”

“It’s sex.” The words sounded hollow. “Noah
trades up his lovers all the time.”

“Really? And how long have you been his
lover?”

Just a few short days. Not long enough for
him to really care, and certainly not long enough for him to put
his life on the line for her.

“Claire, I can’t help you run. That would
just be putting you in danger.”

Then she’d have to do it on her own. “You
felt this way, didn’t you?” Claire asked her.

Skye stared at her with a troubled gaze.

“You knew someone was out there, and you just
wanted to get away.”

Skye’s mouth tightened. “Trace has the best
security firm in the U.S. He’s got agents working on this case now.
He’s going to find the person doing this. I know he will.”

But how long would it take? And would the man
hunting out there,
killing out there,
have a chance to
strike again?

I lose everyone…I can’t lose Noah, too.

Chapter Nine

“You’re not supposed to sleep,” Noah told
Claire as he leveled a firm stare her way. “Not for a few more
hours.”

So the doctors had said. They’d agreed to
release her, as long as Noah made sure that Claire wasn’t
alone.

He didn’t plan to leave her side any time
soon.

They were back in his suite. Claire was
wearing a pair of yoga pants and a loose top. There was a small
bandage on the side of her head. The doctors had stitched her up,
but the wound was right on her hair-line, so no one would even be
able to see it once she was healed.

Heal fast, baby.

“Since I don’t feel sleepy, that shouldn’t
really be a problem,” Claire murmured. She was gazing toward the
large windows that looked out over the skyline.

Claire hadn’t looked Noah in the eye, not
since he’d left her hospital room in order to talk with Trace.

When he’d gone back, Claire had been too
quiet. Withdrawn.

Afraid?

“You’re safe,” he said, and his fingers
trailed over her arm.

Claire flinched. “It’s not me that I’m
worried about.” Then her head turned and she finally stared into
his eyes. “It’s you.”

He had to laugh. “I’m not afraid of this
guy.” If Claire only knew how many hell-holes he’d fought in during
his military days…

But I don’t want her knowing.

The laughter stilled as she gazed at him.

“Maybe you should be afraid.” Claire’s body
shifted slightly against the couch. “If you nearly die, it’s okay
to fear some.”

He hadn’t been afraid, not since his parents
had died. Even when he’d been battling the enemy—in ice, in sand,
in the dankest forest he’d ever imagined—Noah hadn’t been
afraid.

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