Nate's eyes flashed open. He saw her. Her long golden hair hung in disarray over her shoulders, across her breasts, a vivid contrast to her bright red blouse. Her gaze moved in every direction, and he knew she was searching for him. God, it was good to see her. Not until this very minute had he realized how much he needed her.
She looked down the hallway. She stared at him, their eyes speaking a language only their hearts could understand.
She cried out and ran toward him. Dundee followed, rushing to keep up with her.
All the pain and fear and love that she felt came to the surface, full force, the moment she saw him. He was alive. Willing herself not to fling her arms around him proved to be the most difficult thing she'd ever done. She stopped, only inches separating them. With trembling fingers, she reached out and touched his face.
"Nate. Oh, Nate." Her voice was a fragile whimper.
She glanced down at his bandaged left side, wondering how serious his wound was and why he wasn't lying in bed instead of standing, partially dressed, just inside an empty cubicle. When he spread his right arm in a come-to-me gesture, Cyn lunged into his uninjured side. He pulled her up close against him, encompassing her within his strong embrace.
She eased one hand up and across his broad back and laid the other on his bare chest. Closing her eyes, she allowed her hands to explore the solid reality of his body. Tears fell in never-ending rivulets down her flushed cheeks, but she didn't care if her weeping was a sign of weakness. She had been strong all the way to the hospital, and she would be strong again in a few minutes, but right now she wanted nothing more than to rejoice in the knowledge that she had not lost the man she loved.
She could feel his warm breath against her ear, her neck, her cheek. She looked up into his dark green eyes. His gaze devoured her as his big arm tightened around her, almost painfully, and drew her closer. He nuzzled her face, seeking and finding her mouth. In one savagely possessive thrust, he captured her lips, and she accepted him with eager joy as the world around them faded into oblivion. Clinging to him, she felt her strength returning, as if she were absorbing his power.
He grasped her hip with his big hand, holding her quivering body against him while he continued ravaging her mouth. Finally, he released her, gazing at her with wild hunger in his eyes.
"How the hell did you find out what happened?" he asked, his voice harsh, but he still held her close against his side.
"Ramon Carranza," she said.
"Damn that man!" Nate didn't trust Carranza. The chances were pretty good that he and Ryker were connected in some way. But what bothered Nate the most was that Carranza was obviously keeping tabs on Cyn.
Noticing Dundee standing discreetly several feet away, Nate motioned him forward. "Carranza knew about the shooting? How did he contact Cyn?"
"He sent his bodyguard," Cyn answered before Dundee had a chance to reply.
"Carranza sent his goon to get Ms. Porter. He told her Carranza was waiting downstairs in his limo," Dundee said.
"Good thing you were there," Nate said. "Why the hell did you bring her here to the hospital? The point in having you around is to keep her protected and as far away from me as possible."
"The only way I could have kept her from coming here once she found out you'd been shot was to have knocked her unconscious, and I didn't think you'd want me to do that."
Cyn wanted to scream. These two big macho men were discussing her as if she weren't standing right there. She glared back and forth from Nate to Dundee. They were of equal height and about the same size. Sam Dundee's complexion was almost as dark as Nate's, but his short hair was flaxen blond and his eyes a cold, menacing blue.
"I want you to take her back to Mimi Burnside's," Nate said, then swayed slightly, bending his body in an effort to ease the pain shooting through his side.
Cyn held her fingers out over his bandaged side, longing to touch him, to soothe his pain, but she let her hand hover over his wound. "I won't leave you. You're hurt and..." She made an unsuccessful attempt to stop crying. "How... how... bad is it?"
Giving her another crushing hug, he tried to laugh. "Not so bad." He couldn't bear the agonized look on her face. "Hey, Brown Eyes, don't you know I'm too tough and mean to kill?"
"Oh, Nate, don't joke about this." She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing quietly, relieved that he was truly all right and angry at the injustice of life.
"Don't fall apart on me now, Cynthia Ellen Porter. I'll be okay. All I need is for you to go back to Mimi's."
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" she asked, raising her head and brushing the tears from her eyes. She completely ignored his request for her to return to Mimi's.
"No. I'm fine. The bullet only grazed my side. I admit it made a nasty mess, but I've suffered far worse."
"I can't believe they've allowed you to get up." Pulling away slightly, Cyn inspected him from head to toe, realizing, for the first time since she'd entered the emergency room, that Nate looked like a man ready to run. "You were trying to leave, weren't you?"
"I am leaving," he told her, then glanced over at Dundee. "I'm going back to Sweet Haven, and I want her to stay here in Jacksonville."
"Has the doctor said you could go? Have they released you?" Placing her hand on her hip, she glared at him.
"I told them I was going. I've got to check on Romero, then I'm getting a cab home." Nate took several staggering steps.
Cyn quickly placed a supportive arm around him. "What's wrong? Are you in pain? Mr. Dundee, find a nurse."
"Don't move, Dundee. I'm fine, dammit," Nate said, clenching his teeth. "They shot me full of painkiller. I told them I didn't need it, but they insisted."
Cyn smiled, a trembly, teary smile. Dear Lord, what was she going to do with this man, her big, brave warrior? "Mr. Dundee and I are taking you home if you refuse to stay here overnight."
"I don't want you anywhere near me." Since he held her against him with fierce protectiveness, his words were ineffectual, and totally contrary to his actions.
A petite silver-haired nurse entered the cubicle, and smiled when she saw Nate and Cyn. "I'm glad you have someone here to take you home, Mr. Hodges."
"Then it is all right for him to leave?" Cyn asked.
The nurse glanced over at Dundee. "We would prefer that he stay the night, but since Mr. Hodges has refused, he should have someone with him. We gave him a pretty high-powered injection. I'm surprised he's still on his feet."
"He won't be alone," Cyn said. "Is there anything special I need to do?"
The woman looked at Cyn. "Just keep his dressings changed, and see that he goes to the doctor for a checkup." The nurse turned to go, then glanced back at Nate. "Your friend is still in surgery. He's alive. Surgery could last several more hours."
"What about his leg?" Nate asked.
"I don't know." The nurse shook her head sadly and left.
"What happened to Nick Romero?" Cyn asked.
"He got it in the leg. The bullet severed his femoral artery. There's a chance he'll lose that leg."
"Oh, Nate, I'm so sorry."
"Well, woman, don't you see?" Realizing he was still holding Cyn, Nate released her. "Ryker plays for keeps. As long as you're with me, your life is in danger."
"My life is in danger whether or not I'm with you." She nodded toward Dundee. "Otherwise, I wouldn't need a bodyguard."
Nate's knees weakened. The room began to spin slowly. He reached out, bracing himself against the wall.
Cyn willed herself not to rush to him. Maybe, just maybe, it would be better if he fell flat on his face, she thought. Then she and Mr. Dundee could just wheel him straight into a hospital bed. She watched him closely for several minutes, then realized that Nate Hodges was fighting the drug the nurse had given him, and, knowing Nate's strength and determination, he wasn't going to lose gracefully.