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“Evelyn?” Suddenly, the “bystander” grabs my wrist, and I note the distinct British accent in how he said my name.
Shit.I spin around and take in the height of the figure accosting me. Sure enough, my ex-boss turned lover is the one holding me captive, his blue eyes blazing.
“I think I can see now why you were so damn confident of my lacking skills,” he murmurs. “Considering you had a whole hoard of other men on the side.”
My cheeks flame. I don’t even know which of his insinuations to address first. That I would sneak away to mingle with a bunch of creepy strangers? Or that I care that he would make that assumption. Stammering, I try to form a reply. Then I hear Danny grunt in agony, and adrenaline takes over. Gripping Graeme Bellamy by the lapel, I shove him back.
“We need to go. Now!”
Rather than escape the building danger, the bastard just snatches for my arm again. “You need to come with me,” he counters. “I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, but—”
“Fuck! Evie, watch out!” The sheer panic in Danny’s voice makes my heart sink.
As I turn around, the next few seconds unfold in painfully slow motion. I see one of the men accosting Danny brandish something I can’t make out clearly. It’s small, and black, and its vaguely triangular shape triggers a primal fear that shoots through me like an electric bolt. In the same instance, Danny lunges for him, and Graeme Bellamy—bless him—finally realizes this isn’t some secretive orgy at his expense.
His blue eyes widen with alarm, and then he does the unthinkable.
“Evelyn!” He rushes toward me, his arms outstretched in a protective barrier. A heartbeat later, a monstrous crack rips through my eardrums, and all the air is knocked from my lungs. Breathless, I wind up on the road, pinned beneath a heavy body that smells like priceless cologne and masculine musk.
“Graeme?”
His eyes are closed, and when I touch his shoulder, my fingers come away red. Utter panic sweeps through me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
“Oh my god!”
Suddenly, the world explodes into chaos as the sound of sirens fills the air. Someone crouches beside me, Danny, his expression serious.
“I called the police. Eves… I’m sorry.”
But for once, this isn’t his fault. It’s mine.
All I know is that if Graeme Bellamy dies on my watch, I’ll never forgive myself.
CHAPTER34
graeme
“You shouldn’t be smiling at a time like this,” Evelyn scolds while fluffing the pillows beneath my head for the umpteenth time. She sounds so bloody serious, so intent on me that she hasn’t stopped to take her own appearance into account. Her hair is a tousled mess, and with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, she looks damn near…vulnerable.
Any anger I may have felt at her for putting herself so blatantly in danger vanishes. I know now that even if she had been secretly cavorting with Adrian Riley, it wouldn’t matter. She’s mine. I can feel it. Hell, I could taste the evidence of it on our last moment together.
But time is running out for me to make that claim in a way that the whole world knows it.
“And why not?” I counter, reaching for her hand. A tremor runs through her, that I feel an irrational impulse to stop. My thumb strokes the inside of her wrist until some of the tension leaves her mouth. At least she’s no longer in danger of severing that beautiful lip. “Frankly, Evelyn, having you playacting as my nursemaid seems like the perfect moment to be smiling—”
“Don’t joke!” She pulls her hand away, and while aggressively plumping her next pillow, she hesitates as if wrestling with the thought of hitting me with it. Then her expression crumbles, and she sits on the edge of the narrow hospital bed. “I’m so sorry, Graeme.”
Bloody hell, the way she says my name… Even when lowered, her voice easily overwhelms the beeping of the machinery attached to me. For all the fuss, one might think that I have a grievous bodily injury. A glance downward reveals that my only battle wound is a scratch covered by an unnecessarily large square bandage. The shirt I was wearing—now folded in a plastic bag supplied by a nurse—barely has a bloodstain to show for the trouble.
“Honestly, Evelyn, I don’t get what the fuss is about.”
“Graeme.” She draws back, her eyes comically wide. “You were shot. And now you’ll have to spend god knows how long answering questions from the police and dodging any nosey reporters. It’s a miracle that James intervened and managed to keep your name out of the press.”
“I wasgrazed,” I correct. That doesn’t mean the abrasion doesn’t bloody smart. A grimace contorts my mouth, and I hold up a hand just to keep her from lunging for me. “The doctors claim it’s little more than a scratch. They aren’t even keeping me overnight—”
“That’s not the point,” she snaps. “You were shot because ofmeand my stupid family drama. Graeme, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for my hand, and I watch her delicate fingers against mine. When she isn’t following me around, clutching a bloody pen, it’s easier to note how slender this part of her is. How delicate.
“If a small, inconvenient scratch earns this kind of reaction, Evelyn, I would have taken a bullet for you sooner.”
