Shadow Hawk (13 page)

The hardest thing he'd ever done.

“Okay,” she whispered, answering some unspoken question in her own head. Then she dipped her head and nearly, but not quite, touched her lips to his.

And then stopped.

He didn't move either, just did his best to keep breathing so he wouldn't pass out and miss something good.

And then, as if he'd somehow passed a final test he hadn't even seen coming, she licked her lips and kissed him.

Killed him.

Same thing.

Cheyenne Memorial Hospital

C
ALLEN SAT AT
L
OGAN'S SIDE
. She'd been watching over the cocky ATF agent as she often watched over her patients, with one noticeable difference.

Her heart was in her throat.

Not a comfortable place for it to be, not for a person who was used to being in charge at all times. But all sense of control had deserted her. So had common sense. And for what? The one thing she'd always sworn she'd keep her head about.

A man.

His partner's call had shaken her to the core. Logan was in danger; it sounded crazy, but she'd believed him. So much so that she'd switched the charts, and now Logan was Stephen Caudill. At the next shift change, he'd be making yet another chart change.

To Annabelle Levin, a thirty-year-old woman, nine months pregnant, five centimeters dilated.

He'd be so thrilled.

God
. She'd risked all tonight. For a man. Her sister would not be happy. Kate had raised Callen because their parents had been hardly more than kids themselves, and not the sharpest tools in the shed, either. And she had warned Callen—
when love hits, it's like a ton of bricks upside the head. Either wear a helmet or accept that at some point, you're going to get clobbered.

Heeding those words, Callen had made her way through life without getting overly involved.

Until now. Now she'd been clobbered, and as tough as she was, as careful as she'd been, she'd had no warning.

Kate had been right. It made no sense, and Callen had no explanation for it, but Logan was The One.

She knew it.

And she'd been so careful with her heart, too, only giving it away when she was quite certain it was safe.

Ha!
Now she'd handed it over to an ex–Special Forces ATF agent who was currently embroiled in a situation where some high-ranking official wanted him dead. Just about as unsafe as it got.

But, good God, the man had charisma in spades. All he had to do was look at her. Hell, even lying there prone and far too still, she felt the space around her heart constrict, making it almost painful to be near him.

How did that happen in a matter of hours?

And then there'd been his obvious connection to his partner, and the frank concern he'd felt over leaving him alone to face the mess they'd found themselves in. She'd always had a thing for a man with a hero complex, and this man was definitely hero complex worthy.

She watched his face for signs of pain, because that she could handle, there she knew what to do, but his eyes were closed, his drool-inducing body motionless.

He was out cold.

So why her heart pounded, she had no clue. She couldn't seem to find her cool reserve, the place in her head where she kept her fears and panic at bay. There she could treat and care for the sickest of people, and still remain a little bit distant, just enough that she didn't lose a piece of her heart to each and every person who came into her life.

Because a lot of needy people came into her life.

But with Logan she hadn't been able to retreat. It wasn't just his physical attributes. She was immune to good looks and easy charm; in her line of work, she'd seen both erased by pain and suffering, leaving only the soul beneath.

Maybe it was his wit, which in spite of the pain, he'd shown in spades. Or maybe it had been the way he'd looked at her, as if she was the only woman he'd ever really seen.

Yeah, Callen thought, letting out a shaky breath. That'd been it.

She sat, at his side, watching him sleep as if she could keep him alive by willing it. But his injuries weren't going to kill him, he was merely sleeping off the pain and the load of meds he'd been given. By daylight he'd open those melting eyes and be on his way to recovery.

And then she'd go.

Deep in his drug-induced dreamland, Logan let out a long sigh. He could be dreaming about anything, she knew, given the dangerous life he led. Shifting closer, she set her hand on his arm and stroked, hoping her touch was soothing. “Don't let the bad dreams get you.”

“I'm not asleep.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin.

Turning his arm, he snagged her fingers in his. “Sorry.”

He had a cut on his thumb and his palm was rough, callused. Warm. Leaning over him, she looked into his eyes. “Why aren't you sleeping?”

“Fighting the drugs.” His voice was low, raw. Rough. “Callen—”

“Right here.”

“If the worst happens—”

“Hold it.” Her stomach dropped. “The worst is not going to happen.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “If you really believed that, you wouldn't have changed my chart.”

Damn.

“I just want you to know,” he murmured. “I could have fallen for you. The can't-eat-can't-sleep-can't do-any-fucking-thing kind of fall.”

Well, if that didn't grab her by the throat. She swallowed. “That's the drugs talking.”

“Hell if it is.” He lifted his arm, revealing the fact that he'd pulled out his IV.

The man was fighting a massive concussion, three fractured ribs and a wrecked leg, with no drugs. “Logan—”

“I want you to believe me. I could have fallen in love with you.”

Her eyes filled. “Shut up and save it, because no one's dying.”

He tried to smile but failed. “Shit.”

“Damn it, let me redo the IV.”

“No. I'm good. I'm still breathing, remember? Tell me again what Hawk said.”

“You need to rest.”

“I'll rest when I'm dead. Listen, I know he needs help—”

“You need help. And I'm here to give it.”

“No. I'm not dragging you into this any more than I already have. I can handle this. You need…you need to go.”

He said this with his eyes still closed, and he held onto her hand as if he didn't intend to ever let go. “Callen?”

She couldn't tear her gaze from his face. “Yes?”

He licked his dry lips. A decidedly un-nurse-like longing filled her. “You're still here.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm a nurse.”

“That's not why.”

She was glad he hadn't opened his eyes. “Maybe I don't want you to wake up alone. Why were you faking sleep?”

“Honestly?” He finally opened his eyes. “I was waiting for you to leave so I could break out of this joint.”

She stared at him. Laughed. “Come on.”

He didn't smile.

“Logan. You're not going anywhere.”

“Want to bet?”

Her smile faded. “You're not kidding.”

“Hawk needs me, Callen.”

“He's going to have to wait for you, then. And don't even think about shaking your head, it'll hurt like hell.”

“Jesus,” he gasped, and lay back. “Okay, you're right.”

“There, now see? You just keep saying things like that, and we'll be good.”

Logan laughed, low and a bit hoarse. “What the hell are we doing?”

“About your health? I don't know, but I'm prepared to sit on you if that's what it takes to keep you here.”

Swiveling his head, he looked right into her eyes, his own suddenly heated in spite of all the pain he must be feeling. “Maybe I'll try to get up so you can do just that.”

“Probably sleeping would be a better use of your time.” Callen managed to sound normal in spite of the fact her entire body had reacted to his words. The man was a walking, talking sex toy. But she had a vibrator, thank you very much, and didn't require a man for such simple pleasures as sex.

Although it'd been awhile, maybe she wasn't remembering it clearly.

“I can't sleep,” he said. “I can't do anything but think about what I should be doing.”

Logan needed a distraction. So many inappropriate things came to mind she had to stand up and flick on the television.

“What's that?” he asked.

She glanced up at the screen.
“Friends.”

“I meant what are you doing?”

“Distracting you from trying to break out of this joint, when you're still so hurt you can't even take a deep breath.”

Reaching out, he snagged her hand. “Looking at you is distraction enough. You're so pretty, Callen.”

“Stop it.” But his words did something they shouldn't have, they warmed her from the inside out. “You're just trying to charm me into complacency so you can get out of here.”

That he didn't deny that sent a frisson of alarm up her spine. He was. He was still going to try to get out of here and head back into danger.

“How many patients like me have you had to babysit since you've been a nurse?”

“Like you?” She laughed. “Exactly none. You're fairly different.” As in off-the-charts different.

“I don't want to watch TV,” he whispered, and very, very carefully, he sat up.

“You're not leaving.”

“Callen—”

“I'll stop you,” she warned.

He eyed her. “How?”

Good question. She opened her big old purse that held just about everything except a kitchen sink and sifted through for inspiration. She pulled out the book she'd planned on reading tonight if there'd been a break.

Logan took a look at the nearly naked earl on the cover, the one pulling off some maiden's dress, and laughed. “Okay, but could you skip to the good parts?”

Hmm
, maybe not reading. Again, she searched the depth of the purse and came up with a pair of playing cards.

“I'm not a big card player.”

She was running out of options. “Are you telling me you're not a gambling man?”

That caught his interest. “Poker? You'd take advantage of a man when he's down?”

If that's what it took. “What's the matter, you chicken?”

His eyes heated with the challenge. “Lock the door.”

“What?” She laughed, though inside something leaped to attention. “Why?”

“Because if we're playing poker, we're going to do it right. Lock the door, Callen.”

As if she was having an out-of-body experience, she got up and locked the door. “This is crazy.”

“Now who's chicken?”

“You're suggesting we play strip poker?”

His eyes flashed. “I hadn't suggested anything. But since you've brought it up, sounds great. I'm in.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, not wanting to analyze the way her bones felt sort of loose, and her skin too tight. At least he was no longer thinking about breaking out of this joint….

Oh, God. She was actually going to do this. Good thing she had a great poker face and was incredibly lucky. Not to mention fully dressed, while he had on a hospital gown and nothing else. It was a win-win situation for her. “Five card stud,” she said, shuffling. “Deuces wild.”

“I'm beginning to think that's not all that's wild.”

Her gaze met his. “If in the end—”

“You mean when you're naked.”

“Actually, I meant when
you're
naked.” Just the words brought an illogical thrill, since she'd already seen everything there was to see when they'd cut off his clothes. Except that hadn't counted because at the time she'd actually been working on him, and truly had been focused on that. She wanted another peek, and the time to enjoy it. “If I win,” she went on, “you stay here.”

“And if
I
win…”

He paused and Callen felt like she was on the edge of a cliff, with her toes hanging off, a wind blowing at her back, and the earth rocking and rolling beneath her. “If you win, what?”

He full out grinned. “Winner's choice.”

“You're not going to name it?”

“I'm going to keep it a surprise.”

Oh, God. Okay. No problem. She pretended like that hadn't gone straight to all her good spots, and dealt the cards. A pair of tens. Not great, but not bad. She looked at him. He had no expression on his face whatsoever, and asked for two more cards. She took three.

And got a deuce. Oh, yeah. She kept her grin to herself and let him call her. “Three of a kind,” she said, and fanned out the cards to show him.

He nodded, and with absolutely no expression on his face, revealed his hand—a full house.