Search and Rescue by April Wilson

Chapter 20

Killian Devereaux

That kiss changes everything. And I mean everything. Damn, if she wasn’t the one to make the first move. She about pulled the rug out from under me when she grabbed my shirt, sent my brain reeling and my heart thundering.

I sit here staring at her, probably lookin’ like a dumbstruck fool.

Did that just happen?

Did Hannah McIntyre actually put her lips on mine?

I lean forward and take her hands in mine. “Tell me what just happened, love, so I don’t go off half-cocked and make a damned fool of myself.” I’ve wanted this too long to risk fucking it up now.

She raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? I have to explain to you what a kiss is? I kissed you, Killian.”

“Yeah, that part I know. But what did it mean? Were you just bein’ nice? Like, ‘Hey, Killian, thanks for makin’ me breakfast dis morning. Or, Gee, Killian, thanks for carryin’ me outta dat ravine.’ Like that?”

She shakes her head at me. “It means—”

Without warning, Scout rockets to his feet and runs to the window, his hackles standing straight up and his teeth bared. A deep, throaty growl reverberates in the room.

“Fuck.” I shoot to my feet and grab my gun, which is lying on the kitchen table. I point down the hallway. “Hannah, get in the bathroom and lock the door.”

But she ignores me, watching instead as I move into position by the window so I can see out into the yard.

From her spot on the sofa, she cranes her neck as she tries in vain to see who’s here.

“Hannah, go!”

Instead of listening to me, she grabs her crutches and hobbles toward me. “It’s probably just Maggie, or maybe Ruth.”

“Black SUV, tinted windows,” I say as I peer out the window. “Male driver, Caucasian, dark hair. He’s wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.” That certainly fits the description of one of the poachers. “Hannah, will you just go?”

“I’m not hiding in the bathroom.”

A second later, there’s a soft knock at the cabin door. “Hannah? It’s me, Ray. Sorry for stopping by unannounced. I hope it’s not a bad time.”

Hannah’s posture relaxes. “It’s okay. That’s my boss.”

I beat her to the door and open it slowly to reveal a man in his early thirties. His sunglasses are off now, hanging from the neckline of his dark green sweatshirt bearing the logo of the Bryce Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. He takes off his baseball cap and smooths his short black hair.

“Hannah,” he says, a bit breathless as his gaze drinks her in. Then he glances at me and frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.”

“Come on in, Ray,” she says. “This is Killian, my… temporary bodyguard.”

Ray smiles in obvious relief. “Bodyguard? Oh, good.”

I scan him from head to toe—sweatshirt, khaki trousers, scuffed hiking boots. No weapon in sight.

As Ray closes the door behind him, he eyes me curiously before offering me his hand. “Ray Calhoun. I’m the director of the wildlife rehab center where Hannah works.”

I tuck my gun into the back of my waistband and shake with him. “Killian Devereaux. McIntyre Security.”

Ray’s gaze returns to Hannah. “I’m so sorry, Hannah.” He steps close and hugs her, his arms slipping around her waist as he pulls her against him. His face nestles against the side of her hair, and I swear to god, he’s inches away from kissing her temple.

What the fuck?

There’s no way she has a boyfriend and forgot to tell me.

He pulls back so he can see her face. “This is all my fault. I’m the one who sent you up there in the first place.” He shudders. “My god, honey, you could have been killed.”

Honey?

What the double-fuck?

Hannah extricates herself from his embrace and steps back. “It’s not your fault, Ray.”

She takes a step back, away from him, and in the process ends up teetering on her crutches. I automatically reach out, ready to catch her if she falls.

“You had no idea they’d be up there,” she continues.

He smiles gratefully at her—probably relieved that she’s not pissed at him. Then his gaze bounces from her to me and back to her, then down to her cast. He frowns again. “So, it’s broken?”

She sighs heavily. “Yeah.”

“I guess you’ll be out of commission for a while.”

She nods. “The doctor told me to take off work for at least a month. I should be able to come back then, although I won’t be able to do any field work.”

“No, of course not,” Ray says. “Anything you need, Hannah. You’ve got to take care of yourself, first and foremost.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asks him, acting the perfect hostess. “Coffee? A soft drink? Beer?”

Ray shakes his head. “Thank you, but no.” Then his gaze darts to me. “I should go. You’re probably busy.”

If he’s waiting for me to invite him to stay, he’s fresh outta luck. My gut tells me dis guy wishes he was more than Hannah’s boss, and he’s not going to get any help from me.

Hannah gives him a smile. “Thanks for stopping by, Ray. I appreciate your concern.”

Ray nods, his head bouncing like a bobblehead. He frowns when he looks my way again. “Are you expecting trouble?”

“You never know,” I say, not wanting to share any information with this guy. “It pays to be prepared for anything.”

His eyes widen as if he’s finally just catching on. “You mean they might come looking for Hannah?”

Not wanting to drag out this scintillating conversation any longer, I open the door wide. “Like I said, Ray, it pays to be prepared.”

Ray hugs Hannah once more, holding her far too close for my comfort. “Call me if you need anything,” he says. “Anything at all.” He hesitates as if he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. After glancing at me one last time, he walks out the door.

I close the door and lock it. “Well, that was interesting.”

Hannah starts shuffling on her crutches to the kitchen. “What was interesting?”

I take hold of her shoulders to halt her progress. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the kitchen.”

“What for?”

“More coffee.”

I turn her back toward the living room. “Back to the sofa and put your foot up. I’ll get you some more coffee.”

I watch her swing her way back to the sofa and sit, making sure she makes it all right. Then I grab a clean mug and pour her a cup from the coffee maker. After locating the sugar and the creamer she likes, I make it up and carry it to her.

I sit on the coffee table and watch her take her first sip. “What’s with you and Ray?”

She peers up at me from beneath dark brown lashes. “Ray? What are you talking about? He’s my boss.”

“Only your boss?”

Her brow wrinkles in confusion. “Yes.”

“You sure about dat?”

“Yes. Killian, what in the hell are you getting at?”

“The man likes you.”

“Well, sure. We’re friends.”

“No, I mean he likes you. As in a man liking a woman and wanting to be more than her friend.”

She gives me a bit of an eye roll. “You’re nuts.”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “It was pretty obvious to me, the way he held you. Do you like him, too?”

“You’re being silly. Ray’s just a touchy-feely kind of guy. He’s like that with everyone.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Hannah. Do you like him?”

Her eyes flash with indignant fire. “No. Do you think I would have kissed you if I was crushing on my boss?”

“I sure as hell hope not.”

Now she’s mad at me. “No, I wouldn’t have. I would have been on the damn phone to Ray telling him to get his ass over here.”

I smile, partly from amusement, but mostly from relief. I’m not afraid of a little competition, but I want to know where I stand. “All right, fine. I believe you.”

She huffs out an irritated breath.

“Now, back to what we were discussing before we were so rudely interrupted by your secret admirer.”

She snorts out a laugh, then winces as she clutches her leg. “Oh, god, don’t make me laugh, Killian. It hurts.”

My smile evaporates. “Shit, I’m sorry.” I stand. “I’ll get you a pain pill. It’s time.”

I jump up from my seat and head for the bathroom to grab her a pill. As I’m popping off the cap, I hear Scout barking up a storm, a deep growl rumbling from his throat. Then I hear the thump of Hannah’s crutches hitting the floor as she stands. “Hannah, wait!”

“Someone’s here. It’s probably just Ray coming back.”

Shit!

Dat man tucked his tail and ran; he’s not comin’ back. “Hannah, no! Stay away from the door.” My heart’s pounding as I drop the pill bottle on the bathroom counter and race back to the living room, reaching behind me to grab my gun.

Hannah’s standing in the middle of the living room, halfway to the door. “I’m sure it’s—”

I motion her back as I position myself beside the front window, gun raised. There’s a black SUV parked in the lane, half-hidden by trees. The windows are heavily tinted, so I can’t see who’s in the driver seat or even how many there are.

Fuck.

This situation has wrong written all over it.

“Toss me the radio, Hannah. Then get in the bathroom.”

Hannah’s just a couple of feet from the table. She grabs the two-way radio and tosses it to me.

I press the mic. “Owen, this is Killian. Do you copy?”

There’s static on the line, and a moment later a voice comes through loud and clear. “Owen here. I copy. Over.”

“We’ve got company here,” I tell him. “A black SUV staying well outta sight.”

“On my way. Over and out.”

I set the radio down and nod toward the bathroom. “Go.”

Scowling, she shuffles down the short hallway.

“Close the door and lock it. Don’t come out unless I tell you to.”

I scan the yard and see no one—just that ominous black SUV parked where it shouldn’t be. I move to the kitchen windows to see what I can see—again, nothing. No sign of any tangos approaching the cabin. Scout’s pacing, his hackles up and growling quietly.

“You and me both, pal,” I tell him as I return to the front window.

A few minutes later, the SUV backs out of sight and reverses down the lane.

I radio Owen back. “They’re leaving. See if you can get a visual and follow them. I want an ID.”

“Copy that,” Owen says. “I’m on it.”

When the yard is clear, I pull out my phone and dial my boss’s direct number.

“Killian?” Shane says, his voice guarded. “How’s it going?”

“I think we have a problem, Shane.”