She wasn’t in the bedroom or bathroom touching up her makeup. Nor was she in the hallway or at either entrance to the entire building. How had he missed her?
His pulse pounding, Wyatt ran back down to the lobby level and stood for a moment in the empty space. Even the hotel staff had left. The faint sound of emergency vehicles heralded the arrival of the fire department and police.
So far he didn’t smell any smoke and nothing had exploded. He didn’t like that the hotel guests had all been herded out into the open where any fool could take a shot at them. Including Preston. Hopefully, with police and firemen surrounding the area, nothing would happen to the guests. He prayed they all got out safely, Fiona with them. He’d only known her for a little more than twenty-four hours. From pulling her out of the river to making love to her twice to waltzing with her in his mess dress uniform, he’d packed a lot of getting to know her into the short time they’d been together. Damned if he didn’t like her drive, determination and gumption. Yeah, he liked her a lot. Too much to walk away, which would be the smartest thing to do for both him and her.
Maybe he’d consider leaving her, once he found her and was certain she was safely outside the building.
Where could she be? Wyatt closed his eyes for a moment and used a technique he’d used to find Al-Qaeda militants, by thinking like they’d think.
What would Fiona do? How would she think? As organized as she was, she’d have counted heads of her guests to ensure all had made it out safely. Then she would have checked for all her security personnel. The woman was almost obsessive about tying up all the loose strings. She wouldn’t rest until she had all her little chicks accounted for. In that case, she might be looking for him while he was looking for her.
He’d told her all the places he’d go to inspect. Logic dictated she’d look for him in those places, most of which he’d already covered since coming up from the garage. Could she have gone down while he’d been racing up? Damn. She’d be heading straight into the blast zone.
His eyes popped open and he ran for the closest staircase leading into the parking garage. When he reached first level, he shoved open the door and burst into the coolness.
A scream ripped through the air. Wyatt swung toward the sound, his gun drawn. That’s when he saw her.
Preston had Fiona, his arm around her neck, dragging her backward toward a van. “Stay back, Magnus, or I’ll hurt her.”
“Let her go, Preston. She’s not the problem.”
“Maybe not, but she’s my ticket out of here.”
“Put down the gun, Preston,” Fiona urged, her voice tight, constrained by the arm choking off the air to her vocal chords.
“No way. If I put it down, your boyfriend will shoot me.”
Fiona’s gaze met Wyatt’s. “Put your gun down, Wyatt,” she said. “Please.”
Wyatt hesitated. Preston had already shot at him. The man was on the edge and could easily blow a gasket. “I’m going to put my weapon down, Preston. Don’t shoot me and, be smart and don’t hurt the lady. She’s done nothing to hurt you or your buddies who died in the war.”
“I don’t want to hurt her, but I will if you do anything stupid.” Preston nodded. “Drop it and kick it toward me.”
Wyatt eased his arm down ever so slightly. Already Preston’s gun dipped and his arm seemed to loosen.
Fiona jabbed her elbow into Preston’s gut, slammed her high heel into his instep and ducked.
Wyatt yanked his weapon up and fired off a round at the same time as Preston.
Preston’s shot went wide, hitting the concrete wall behind Wyatt.
Wyatt’s shot flew true, crashing into Preston’s chest, knocking him backward onto his ass. Because Fiona had been leaning against him, when he fell, she fell with him. She landed hard, rolled to the side, snatched up Preston’s gun and turned before Wyatt could reach her.
She didn’t need it. Preston was dead, but he was very much a threat to them and everyone else in the building. The remote detonator device was still clutched in his hand, though the man lay with his eyes open, staring vacantly at the ceiling.
Wyatt eased the device from the man’s hand and laid it on the ground, gently, afraid if he left it in Preston’s hand, he might have a dying man’s muscle spasm and set off the explosives Wyatt hadn’t found.
When he rose, Fiona flung herself into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Thank God he didn’t hurt you.”
“Me?” Wyatt chuckled, loving the feel of her warm body against his and holding her like there would be no tomorrow. For the two of them, it had nearly been the truth.
In those few short minutes when Preston had held Fiona, threatening to kill her, all the doubts Wyatt had about a real relationship with a woman blew out of his mind and his thoughts had become crystal clear. He wanted the chance to get to know Fiona. Not just her incredible body, but the brave, slightly high-strung, incredibly smart and sassy woman who might not have lived to see the next day of her life had Preston succeeded in his plan to blow a hole in downtown San Antonio.
“I was so afraid for you,” he whispered against her hair, holding her so close he could feel her breath against his neck.
“I thought Preston had killed you or left you wounded somewhere.” She leaned back, tears trickling down her face. “You don’t know how happy I was to see you show up alive.”
“Ditto, sweetheart.” He crushed her lips with his, drawing the kiss out as long as they both had breath. When he finally raised his head, he cupped her cheeks in his palms. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”
“It goes both ways, babe.” Her gaze traveled over him. “I’m so sorry your uniform got so messed up—Wyatt, you’re bleeding!” She tried to open his jacket, but he stopped her.
“I’m okay. The bullet only nicked me.”
“Yeah and you’re still bleeding.” She glanced down at Preston. “Is it true he was planning to blow up the building with everyone in it?”
Wyatt’s arm slipped around her waist. “Yes.”
Fiona glanced around the parking lot. “Are there charges positioned down here?”
“I got what I could find, but I’m not sure I got them all. We should get out of here, just in case.” Wyatt gripped her arm and led her toward the stairs.
Fiona dug her feet in, bringing him to a stop. “Are we going to leave him here?”
“There’s nothing we can do for him.”
She stared down at the man who’d tried to kill her and a lot of other people. “He must have been very unhappy.”
“I suspect PTSD.” His gaze captured hers. “It happens to the best of soldiers.”
She slipped an arm around Wyatt’s waist. “And that’s why you don’t want to stay.” Her words were a statement, not a question. “But you know, it doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to leave.”
“I can’t put you in harm’s way. Especially if the harm is in me.”
“But you can’t run from it. Wouldn’t you be better off working through your issues with someone who cares than going it alone?” She smiled. “Joe seems to have recovered nicely with his friend, Bacchus.”
“Are you volunteering to be my pet dog?” Wyatt grinned. “Sorry. Although you can wield a pretty wicked puppy-dog stare, you’re not a dog.” Gripping her hips, he pulled her against the hardness of his cock, straining against the fabric of his trousers. “You’re one hundred percent woman and what you did tonight was purely heroic.”
Color flew like pink flags in her cheeks. “No more than you did. Come on. Let’s get out of here. I have to get back to the guests before we have another international incident.” She poked a finger in his chest. “But you’re not off the hook, so don’t go disappearing on me. And we’re going to have the medical personnel look at that wound, whether you think you need it or not.”