Her Christmas Protector. Geri Krotow
last night.”
Nice save, Bryce. He left nothing undone. Mark wouldn’t suspect what she did in her hours away from counseling. To him, she’d been a lucky victim, not a willing participant in the effort to take down a murderer.
“That was a good call on your part, Bryce.” Mark looked at his watch, then back at Zora. “I’ll leave you now—remember what I said. No cheating.”
“Got it.”
Mark left the room and Zora’s skin prickled at her excruciating awareness of Bryce’s proximity.
It had to be the narcotics. They’d wear off as soon as he got her home.
“You look like hell.” His gaze assessed her with practiced attention to detail.
“Why, thank you. You’re as charming as I remember.”
“And you’re as untrustable as ever.”
“That’s not even a word. You mean unreliable.”
“No, I meant it the way I said it. I don’t trust you any more than I did when you stood me up.”
“Really? We’re going to discuss something as silly as a prom, something that happened fifteen years ago?”
“No, we’re not. And if it wasn’t so important, why do you remember exactly how long it’s been?”
She wouldn’t let him make her feel pretty, despite the way he was looking at her.
Nor would she let him make her feel desirable.
“Let it go, Bryce.”
“Ready to go home?” A nursing assistant pushed a wheelchair into the room and stopped at the bed. She looked at Zora, then Bryce.
Bryce didn’t budge.
“Here, let me get you into the chair,” the assistant said.
“I’ve got her.”
“My parents...”
“Were notified last night. I called them myself. Your mother is at your house waiting for you. I spoke to her earlier.”
Strong, steady hands grasped her forearms and her vision was filled with a white dress shirt, red tie and Bryce’s chest. It wasn’t the thin, teenage physique she remembered. Because she did remember every last thing about Bryce.
He smelled more mature, too. More sexy, as his cologne or soap was spicy and hinted at the power that his muscles demonstrated. She didn’t consider herself a petite woman by any means, but he moved her easily.
“I’ve got you. Take it nice and slow.” His voice, God, his voice! Deep, gravelly and all adult, yet still achingly familiar.
She’d missed him. She’d missed them. The bond they’d shared for the better part of six years, through their worst growing pains and hormonal fluctuations. They’d each dated others, but only fleetingly. Mere experimentation.
Nothing had come close to the chemistry and friendship that had grown between them.
You were kids. You were a lost girl. It’s history.
“I’m not an invalid.” Still, she leaned into him—it was that or risk crying out in pain and humiliating herself in front of both him and the aide.
“There you go. Nice and easy.”
He held her the entire way down to the chair, and made sure she was settled as comfortably as possible.
Blue-gray eyes were level with hers.
“You okay?”
“Yes.” She nodded to emphasize that he wasn’t affecting her, wasn’t doing anything but helping her get into the blasted wheelchair.
“You’re a real pro there, sir. You do this before?” The nurse’s aide all but drooled at Bryce. Zora damned the chair for not being powered. Zipping out of the room and back into her life without Bryce was beyond tempting. Of course, she’d have to run over Bryce to escape since he was standing in front of her.
“A few times.” Bryce left Zora’s vision and she was being propelled through the door, down the hall to the elevators.
As the aide chatted up Bryce, Zora allowed her mind to wander. Her first concern was her mother’s safety. Mom would be safe staying with her, since Zora had Butternut as an early-warning detector, and of course, her weapons. They were in a hidden storage compartment—she usually only kept one pistol accessible and used whatever the Trail Hikers issued for a particular mission, if any. Before the football game last night she’d signed out a few different weapons, just in case they didn’t draw out the killer in a predictable fashion.
She’d never expected to be targeted on her own property. Not without noticing a tail. Bryce had been behind her but not close enough that she could see him. The killer had beaten him to the house.
“Wait here while I get the car.” Bryce left her at the hospital’s portico. His butt was too cute, and it annoyed her to admit she was enjoying the view.
“He’s such a sweet guy. You’re lucky.”
Zora grunted and tried to clear her dry throat. It was like talking through cobwebs and exacerbated her nausea.
Pain meds—not her favorites.
“He’s a colleague.”
“None of my colleagues look at me like he looks at you. I’d say he’s interested.”
Zora craned her neck to look at the aide’s name tag. Upon closer inspection, the woman was much younger than she realized. The drugs were really playing with her reasoning. It wasn’t Bryce.
“Nice to meet you, Heidi Kurtz.”
“Same here, ma’am.”
“You really like your job, don’t you?”
“I do. And I’m taking classes at HACC to get my RN. Only two more semesters to go.” Heidi referred to Harrisburg Area Community College.
“That’s the ticket, Heidi. Go after your dreams.”
“Is being a police officer your dream?”
“Oh, I’m not...” She was a beat too slow but at least Zora’s brain caught up to her mouth before she blabbed anything Heidi didn’t need to know. “Yes, I’ve always wanted to help protect people.”
“The whole staff was abuzz about your injury. We don’t get a lot of gunshot wounds this side of the river.”
“They get plenty in the city.” Harrisburg had one of the highest crime rates per capita in the United States. At least her mind hadn’t seized completely.
“Yeah, that’s where I used to live. I went to elementary school in Dauphin County.”
“What brought you to the West Shore?” Keeping the aide talking about herself would prevent her from asking any questions Zora wasn’t prepared to answer.
Like why she’d taken a bullet to her chest.
“My grandparents. My father was never around and my mother’s been in and out of rehab, so they raised me.”
“Good on you for going after what you want. Your grandparents sound like good people.”
“They’re the best.”
The quiet engine of a luxury SUV hummed under the portico as Bryce parked his vehicle in front of Zora. It boasted a cheery Christmas wreath on its grille, complete with a red bow.
“Here’s your ride,” Heidi said.
Bryce was out of the driver’s seat and at her side before she could even try to stand.
“Here, give me your bag.” He took the