“Are you sure? That’s she’s okay, I mean?”
“Based on what you’re telling me, she sounds stable. Tell me about the dog.”
“Oh shit.” Another burst of panic burned through him. He got out of the car and opened the back door. “I don’t know how to check his pulse, he’s got so much damn fur . . .”
“His femoral artery, inside thigh.”
Mitch felt along the dog’s leg and found the pulse. “Damn, it’s too fast. Way fast.”
“A dog’s pulse should be twice ours, so that’s good. And his breathing?”
Mitch put his hand in front of the dog’s nose. “Also fast.”
“That’s the way it should be. Enjoy the silence. When they wake up, they’ll probably both feel like they’ve got hangovers. You might want to pick up some Excedrin for Halina. I know you can’t get to a vet, so you can get some baby aspirin for the dog. But check with Halina before you give it to him, only give it to him if he’s in obvious pain and only one baby aspirin. Got it?”
Mitch leaned on the roof and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Yeah.”
“Mitch, are you all right? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so shaken. Not even when Dad had his heart attack.”
No. He wasn’t even close to all right. He’d almost lost Halina. Really lost her. And after what he’d discovered, he shouldn’t give a damn, which made the whole range of emotions even more psychotic.
“Just freaking dandy,” he told Alyssa.
“You don’t sound dandy. Get your troublemaking butt down here with the rest of us. Your nephew wants to meet you.”
Mitch disconnected with Alyssa and spent a long moment gazing at Halina. Damn, he was so twisted with fury and betrayal and desire and hope, he didn’t know which way his head was spinning.
“I don’t know what to do with you, beda.”
Trouble—she was definitely trouble. Always had been in one way or another. Trouble for his body. Trouble for his mind. Trouble for his heart.
Big motherfucking trouble in any language, English or Russian.
He turned his attention to his phone and found yet another hotel nearby. He didn’t like the idea of stopping again, but he liked the idea of driving, unable to monitor Halina and Dex, even less. There was no doubt he’d hit Abernathy in the leg. Army Ranger or not, the bastard had to get that wound examined. And he wouldn’t go to an emergency room—unless he had a way to get around the hospital reporting a gunshot wound. Like ties with law enforcement or leverage even higher.
Of course, with military intelligence in his background and Schaeffer’s contacts at his fingertips, he had both and would be able to maneuver three hundred and sixty degrees.
Unless he was working alone during this blackout window when he didn’t have to account to Schaeffer. That would explain why Abernathy had come after them again instead of sending someone else. And why Abernathy hadn’t had backup when he’d tried to take Halina.
Mitch’s mind ping-ponged back and forth. He wanted to call someone and talk about it. Hash it out until the adrenaline ebbed and he could close his eyes. But everyone was sleeping—or should be. Instead of pissing more people off, he sent a text to Young, giving him Abernathy’s identity and asking for deeper information.
At the hotel, Mitch parked directly in front of the lobby and locked Halina and Dex in the car when he went in to get a room. This time he requested one around back so he could get the car out of sight. And—just because he’d grown paranoid over the last year—he pulled a dime from his pocket and switched the BMW’s license plates with those of another car around the side of the hotel before carrying both Halina and Dex into the room.
He laid Halina on the bed and stood there a moment, staring at her beautiful face. He brushed hair off her cheek and forehead and her skin felt like silk beneath his fingers.
“Beda, beda, beda,” he murmured, sliding his fingers across one high cheekbone.
She rolled to her side on the bed with a moan, and though the robe was big enough to wrap around Halina twice, the fabric gapped at her chest, exposing the supple curve of one full breast. She shifted her legs and the split in the robe parted to reveal the smooth, toned length of her inner thigh.
And Mitch realized not letting her grab clothes from her suitcase at the other hotel was the most asinine thing he’d ever done.
SIX
Mitch stepped out of the bathroom followed by a trail of steam. The hot water had washed away the sweat, eased stress and aching muscles, but it hadn’t relieved the tightness in his chest or cleared the memories running through his mind.
Halina and Dex were still asleep, but by the way Halina tossed, that wouldn’t last much longer. Wearing his boxer briefs, Mitch picked up his jeans and frowned at them, wishing he had clean clothes. He held them up and smacked at the stains on the knees from kneeling on the pavement to pick up Dex.
Halina moaned and turned one way, then the other. She fisted her hands, turned her head. Sounds of distress ebbed from her throat. Mitch wanted to lie down beside her, gather her into his arms, and soothe her, but knew he couldn’t. And just considering it made him want to take a sledgehammer to his head.
What was it going to take to get over her? She was beautiful, but he’d been with more stunning women. She was intelligent and clever, but he’d been with geniuses and Pulitzer prize winners. And although she wasn’t showing it now, she could be painfully sweet, but Mitch had been with women who were sweeter than pure honey.
What he hadn’t found was the perfect combination . . . at least not with anyone other than the woman lying in that bed. She was funny and fun-loving, adventurous, tough, compassionate. Or at least she could be. She could have been everything. But she’d chosen lies and secrets over him.
“No . . .” she murmured, her voice tight with fear. “No, no, no.”
Mitch’s gut twisted and he sighed. “I’m such a sucker, I deserved to get screwed.”
He threw his jeans over a chair, sat on the edge of the bed, and put a hand on her arm. “Everything’s fine, Halina.” When she only continued to thrash, he took her other arm and added pressure to hold her still. “You’re safe. Everything’s fine.”
She quieted, but her breathing continued in hard, quick bursts. The pulse in her throat throbbed beneath her skin and all Mitch could think about was putting his mouth there.
Halina’s lashes fluttered and she winced. “Mits . . .” She slurred his name and sweet warmth curled in his gut. “Mitch . . .”
“I’m right here.” As soon as he spoke, she sat up and reached for him. Her arms slid around his sides, wrapped his back, and pulled him close. He breathed out, closed his eyes, and braced her by the shoulders, touching as little of her body as possible. “Halina, I’m right here, everything’s fine.”
She rested her cheek against his chest and Mitch stared at the ceiling, forcing away the soft sensation trying to sneak in. Then she suddenly pushed back, clutching his arms, panic filling her beautiful blue eyes. “Dex, where’s Dex?”
“Right next to you. He’s sleeping. He’s going to be fine too.”
She turned her head in search of the dog and swayed. Mitch tightened his grip on her shoulders.
“Are you sure he’s okay?” she asked.
“Yes. I made sure.”
“Positive?”
“He’s just sleeping, Hali. He’ll come out of it soon.”