Overheated (9 page)

Dash saw her confusion, her vulnerability apparent in the darkness of her eyes. She looked so young with that lost expression on her face, his protective instincts kicked in full force. He would move heaven and earth to keep her safe and protect her—even from himself.

“Come on, Sara.” His voice was deep and warm, his arm around her tender. “Don’t think so hard. This stalker situation has your whole life up in the air. It’s too much to think about all at once, I understand. I’ll back off for now, if that’s what you want. Just come to the meeting, and we’ll decide what to do with the rest of our lives after this is taken care of.”

Dash offered her his compassion, his understanding.

Sara went with him, her body following him obediently while her mind whirled. Surely Dash wouldn’t propose to a woman unless he was very serious. His reasons were a mystery to her, but he was a powerful and intelligent man, and his word meant something to everyone who dealt with him.

And he loved her. When he said the words, his eyes were lit with a depth of emotion that called up an answering emotion in her. Perhaps it was sudden, but her shock had been as much from her own soaring response to his proposal as from the proposal itself. She opened her mouth to speak, not really knowing what she would say, but realized they were in the middle of the hallway full of agents coming from the other meeting room. She would have to wait for a better time.

Chapter 10

On Wednesday after work, Carolyn and Sara sat at two facing desks in the central office area, watching as the last of the agents filtered out. The backup team would be moving into place about now, having made a highly visible exit earlier in the day, talking about an all-night stakeout, checking the setup of the outside cameras before sneaking back into the building at closing time. Cameras and recording devices were rolling, picking up every sight and sound.

When Dash had left minutes ago with Isaac and Grange to drive away before coming back in through the maintenance tunnel, Sara had been too conscious of the cameras at first to do more than give him a shy hug. He seemed to be letting her set the pace between them since the unanswered proposal. He wasn’t drawing away. The heat generated between them had kept them locked together throughout the nights, but he was waiting for something, some word or signal from her.

“Let’s order a pizza,” Carolyn said. “If we have to stay late, I say make the bosses pay for our dinner.” Carolyn was a consummate professional. Sara thought privately that she had missed her true calling. A career on the stage was waiting for such a talented actress any time she chose to give up security work. Carolyn never fell out of her chosen character, and she never missed a cue.

Sara was finding it somewhat more difficult. Her palms were sweating and she was clutching her sheaf of files like a lifeline, her nervous fingers leaving dents in the pile of papers.

“I don’t like pineapple,” Sara said in a shaking voice, trying to keep up with the game.

Carolyn’s look was understanding. “Okay,” she said easily. “No pineapple. Got it. Listen, I’ll order from here and then just go down to the front to pick it up. They usually get here in about twenty minutes since the pizzeria is just at the end of this block.”

“Great.” Sara tried to smile. Listening to her friend ordering a pizza with every topping except pineapple, she wondered frantically if she would be expected to eat it. Her dry throat and clenching stomach muscles warned her not to try. She didn’t want to throw up on her first real assignment. She needed to feel she was helping in some way, and gaining the respect of her new friends was important to her. The people she worked with were all experienced, but she kept reminding herself that they had all been beginners at one time. Still, throwing up was not an option.

When Carolyn left to get the pizza, Sara wasn’t truly worried. The team had repeatedly warned her that the process of security work was a waiting game, and she might have to stay until
midnight
for several nights in a row to lure in their prey. So when she heard the scrape of the side door opening, she thought perhaps one of the team had needed to adjust some of the equipment or use the washroom.

“Sweetheart, I’m here,” Martin’s sickeningly sweet voice said.

Sara froze, hardly believing. She turned slowly to look at her ex, feeling the blood drain from her face. Suddenly, it was as if her hands developed palsy, and the papers scattered across the floor.

“Sweetheart, weren’t you expecting me?” Martin asked as he walked right up to her. He was dressed in his customary tweed jacket and slacks, picture perfect, as if he had just stepped out of a country gentlemen’s catalogue. He looked as comfortable as if he owned the place. “I’m sorry to startle you. I know how nervous you get.” He smiled at her.

Sara was surprised. It was almost surreal. He was speaking as if they were still a couple, as if she had never left him, never run halfway across the country to get out from under his control.

Sara tried to swallow, to speak, but it took her two tries to get her voice to work.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” was all she was able to say.

Martin frowned. “What? That doesn’t make any sense. I couldn’t let you just go, Sara, a delicate creature like you. You need a man to look after you. You’ve always been sheltered, always been afraid. I knew it was just a matter of time before you realized how much you needed me, so I gave you that time. And now I’m here to bring you home.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Sara was very proud that her voice came out at all. She was feeling faint. “I didn’t want you to come here. I didn’t like having you watch me, Martin.”

“You wanted me to come and get you, but you wouldn’t answer my calls. I have every right to watch you.” His voice was harsh and getting louder, as it always did when he wasn’t getting his way. She wasn’t reacting like she was supposed to. She wasn’t running into his arms and begging him to protect her. He reached out for her, but she stepped back quickly.

“You know what happens, Sara, when you back away from me. You know how I hate that.” He was becoming angry now. His face was darkening with temper.

Sara ran around behind the desks, keeping her eyes on him. Where was the backup team? She didn’t want to take her eyes from Martin to look for them.

“I will not go with you, Martin,” she said firmly, though her knees were shaking and she wondered how much longer they would hold her up. “I left you.”

“You left me because you’re too stupid to know what you need! You need my protection in this world. I knew all along your fear would drive you right back to me, into my arms where you know you should be.”

“Your plan didn’t work, Martin. I know you were in my apartment taking my things. I know, and I didn’t run right back to you.” Sara tried to make her voice even, conversational. If she could just stall until the backup team got into the building, or until Carolyn got back with the pizza, perhaps she would have a chance to get away.

“My plan did work! I just didn’t have quite enough time. Once I get you home with me, everything will be perfect, you’ll see.”

“No.”

Sara was shaking her head, and the sight of her defiance visibly upset him.

Martin lunged for Sara, grabbing her arm as she screamed. He shook her soundly then started pulling her toward the side exit. Sara was pulled along by his hard grip on her arm, slamming against chairs and desks, knocking papers flying.

She gasped in pain as she fell to her knees, then came up holding a pen. “I won’t go with you,” she cried hysterically, and jabbed it into his hand as hard as she could.

Martin shrieked and pulled his hand away. Then he grabbed her with the other hand.

Perversely, the sight of his blood gave her strength. Sara snatched up an empty coffee mug and smashed it into his face with all her might. She kicked his shins and hit him again with the mug, breaking it to bits.

When he screamed like a child and released her arm to cradle his abused nose, she didn’t run as she had been instructed. She pulled a closed laptop computer off a nearby desk and brought it down over his unprotected head with as much force as she could muster.

* * * *

When the backdoor burst open a moment later and Dash and Grange raced in, it was to find Sara screeching like a fishwife and kicking at a man who was crawling on the floor. The backup team and the Sheriff hurried in from the side of the building at the same time. The man saw all the people coming, and crawled toward them as fast as he could.

“Stop!” he called frantically as Sara kicked him again.

To Dash’s critical eye, Martin Brent looked like he needed some help. He had blood streaming down from his nose and from a jagged wound at his temple. His right hand had a pen barrel protruding from it, and his shirt was torn and covered in more blood.

“Stop her! She’s assaulting me!”

“She is, isn’t she?” Dash remarked with clear admiration. He moved to catch Sara in his arms as the Sheriff moved to take Martin Brent into custody. Dash didn’t want Sara to kick the Sheriff or his deputy by accident. It was a struggle to subdue her as she continued to kick and shout at her unfortunate stalker long after he was cuffed.

Dash just spoke soothingly to her until she stopped kicking wildly, wrapping her in his arms and holding her small body against him. He was certain he needed the comfort more than she did.

He almost hadn’t made it in time. Martin Brent had approached the building before they could even get into position, calmly walking in the front door as if he had been invited for tea. To make matters worse, some diligent soul had locked the inner door to the maintenance tunnel, and it had taken Dash and Grange both to break it down.

Racing up through the tunnel with his partners right behind him, his heart pounding to the sound of Sara’s screams, was an experience he never wanted to repeat. And then to find her not only mercifully alive, but defending herself, holding off a much larger attacker. Making that attacker beg for help from the very Sheriff who was there to arrest him. It was like something out of a Hollywood film.

The corners of Dash’s mouth kicked up into a silly grin. He looked around to see that most of the team members were snickering, and the Sheriff was trying to hold back a laugh as he read Mr. Brent his rights. The deputy was openly watching Sara, who was just now beginning to relax beside him. From the awestruck look on the young man’s face, Dash thought he might have some competition to worry about. It was apparent the young man was in love.

Grange, Isaac and Carolyn were off to one side with Walt Burgess, who was smiling like a proud papa.

“That girl’s got some talent,” Burgess remarked pleasantly, then let out a braying laugh.

The whole room broke up with laughter, with hardened agents holding on to each other and leaning on walls and furniture to keep themselves upright when the comedy of the situation weakened their knees. Finally, after what seemed like forever, they were able to get control of themselves.

Even the Sheriff, a stern man in his late forties, was having a hard time keeping his professional demeanor. He kept clearing his throat, and when he looked at his bloodied and beaten prisoner, he couldn’t stifle the wide grin on his face as he radioed for a medic.

Dash hugged Sara to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” Sara said, frowning a little. “But—”

“But what?”

“I hurt my foot somehow.”

“Was that when you were kicking him, honey?” he asked with a grin.

“You’re not taking this very seriously,” Sara complained, pouting up at him. Her eyes were still very wide, but a little smile lit her face.

“Don’t ever think that, Sara, do you hear me? Christ! It took years off my life, hearing you scream and not being able to get to you fast enough. We weren’t even in place yet.” His voice broke and he swallowed convulsively, hauling her in tight against him.

“Dash, I’m teasing,” Sara said instantly. “I’m fine.”

She reached up, smoothing his hair back and leaning into his big body. Her arms circled his strong neck and she clung to him. “I told him I wouldn’t go with him,” Sara said softly. “I argued.”

“I was listening through the ear wire,” Dash said into her hair, rubbing circles on her back. “We all had wires. It’s all recorded.”

“Oh, dear.” Sara was upset.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Dash was instantly concerned at her worried tone.

“I swore at him,” Sara said, concerned. “I called him terrible names, and it’s all on tape!”