Savvy shoved the pillow aside and gasped for air, her face red, her eyes wide. He tried to k-kill me!
The man masquerading as a member of the hospital staff rolled to his feet and swung a tree-trunk-size arm, backhanding Dawson.
Dawson raised his hand to block, but the force of the mans swing sent him slamming against the wall. He stumbled and righted himself, but not soon enough to stop the attacker from racing for the door. Nor did he get a good look at him; his face was covered in a surgical mask. Dawson threw himself at the man, catching him by the ankle before he cleared the door.
The big man tripped, fell into the swinging door and out into the hallway, crashing into a nurse passing by with a cart filled with medication. The cart upended, the nurse hit the floor and pills scattered. The perpetrator scrambled to his feet. In one awkward leap, he cleared the nurse and ran for the stairwell.
Dawson followed, skirting the nurse and cart. Before he got halfway down the hallway, he realized he couldnt go after the man. If he did, that left Savvy Jones unprotected. He stopped just past the spilled cart, his fists clenched, his heart pounding. Then he turned and helped the nurse to her feet. Call the police. Tell them someone just tried to kill one of your patients. The man is headed down the stairwell.
The woman nodded and limped toward the nurses station.
A man dressed in a Laredo police uniform rounded the corner and ground to a stop, his eyes widening. Then he ran toward Dawson, pulling a pistol from his holster. Stop, or Ill shoot!
Anger surged through Dawson and he advanced on the man.
The mans eyes widened and he pointed the gun at Dawsons chest. Ill shoot.
Then make it count. In a flash, he knocked the pistol from the cops hand, sending it clattering across the floor. His next move had the cop slammed face-first against the wall, his arm locked behind his back in a painful grip. Were you the officer assigned to guard Savvy Jones?
Yes, he gasped. Let me go, or Ill bring you up on charges.
And Ill have your badge, Dawson said. Im the bodyguard the D.A. hired to do the job you obviously couldnt.
What do you mean?
You left your post.
I got called away to handle a shooting in the E.R. He didnt struggle. It turned out to be a false call.
And you left Savvy Jones unprotected. Dawson jammed the mans arm up higher. She was almost killed.
Im sorry.
Dawson shoved the man away. Get out of here.
The officer retrieved his weapon, holstering it. Ill have to clear this through the D.A.
Then clear it. I have a job to do, Dawson said.
As do I. Step aside. A man in green scrubs, with a stethoscope looped around his neck hurried toward Savvys door.
Stop right there. Dawsons tone brooked no argument.
The man in scrubs held up his badge. Im Savvy Joness doctor.
Dawson scanned it, his eyes narrowed. No one goes in here without my permission.
The doctor crossed his arms over his chest. And what clearance do you have?
He patted his chest where his Glock usually rested in the shoulder holster beneath his jacket and moved to block the doorway. Im Ms. Joness bodyguard. If you need any more clearance than that, contact the D.A.
Dont worry, I will. The doctor performed an about-face and marched toward the nurses station. A gathering of orderlies and nurses keeping at a distance from Dawsons threatening stance, parted to let the doctor through.
Dawson had been away long enough. He entered Savvys hospital room and dodged around the end of the bed to find a slim young woman lying on the floor, gasping for air. Her hospital gown had hitched up in the struggle, exposing a significant amount of peaches-and-cream skin and a silky slip of forest-green panties. Strawberry-blond hair spilled down her back and across the floor in long wavy strands. A bandage covered the left side of her head with a white band of gauze wrapped around her forehead to keep it in place.
Whats going on? She pressed a hand to her eyes, dragging in deep breaths.
Someone doesnt like you much.
She groaned. I dont think I ever want to see another pillow. Especially if its over my face.
Are you okay? Dawson squatted next to her. Want me to call the nurse?
No, as long as I can breathe, Im okay. Deep green eyes blinked open and widened. Who are you? You arent armed with a pillow, are you? She leaned to the side to peer around him.
No pillow, just me, Dawson Gray. He held out his hand. Im your bodyguard, and if anyone asks your fiancé.
Bodyguard? Fiancé? Her green eyes widened. Which one is it?
Officially, your bodyguard.
Savvy shook her head. And I didnt think this day could get weirder. Well, thanks for coming to my rescue. Her forehead crinkled into a frown and she winced. Ouch. Remind me not to frown. It hurts. She looked at the outstretched hand, but didnt take it. Should I know you? I mean, you being my fiancé and all.
No. Were meeting for the first time.
Good, because I dont remember you. Still, how could you be my fiancé if Ive never met you? Am I a mail-order bride or something? Im confused. She pushed up on her elbows and closed her eyes. Is it me, or is the room spinning?
Its definitely you. He nodded toward her head. Youve got a head wound and someone just tried to smother you. Im sure neither is helping. Other than that, are you sure youre okay?
I think so. Although my legs didnt give me any warning before they gave out. Her lips twitched.
Give yourself a break. Youve been through a lot by the looks of it. He shook his head. If its all the same to you, maybe we could get you into the bed. He scooped his hands beneath her legs and lifted, straightening. For as tall as she was, she couldnt weigh much over a hundred pounds.
Hey! Her eyes widened and she wrapped an arm around his neck. Not so fast.
Sorry. He laid her back against the pillows and adjusted the hospital gown around her, his fingers brushing against the silky skin of her thigh. What was he doing? Dawson snatched his hand away and stuffed it into his pocket.
Savvy lay still, her face pale. She didnt say anything for a few seconds.
The urge to protect hit him so hard, he stepped away. He had no right to be her protector. Qualifications for this job included a proven success rate.
His record stunk. Hed lost his wife, lost a soldier and almost lost his mind. Dawson turned toward the door, retreat foremost in his mind. Excuse me. I have a call to make.
Please, she called out in a small, scared voice.
The one word halted his forward progress and made him turn back. Big mistake.
She leaned toward him, her wide-eyed gaze darting from him to the door. Do you have to leave me her voice faded, and she shrank back against the sheets alone?
With his hand in his pocket already fishing for his cell phone, he paused. Ill be right outside the door. I wont let anyone past me.
Please Her fingers plucked at the hospital gown, bunching it, causing the hem to inch up her legs. I dont even know how I got here.