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She eluded his grasp and ran back into the bedroom where she’d put her laptop the night before. Running back to the door, she wasn’t able to evade another stinging swat that hurt but also propelled her forward. Coop was out the door beside her grabbing her hand and running back toward the main road.
“Why can’t we take the SUV?”
“Because I don’t have time to check to see if it’s wired for a bomb. Damn it; I should have known better than to fall into bed with a protectee.”
She hesitated. “If you regret sleeping with me…”
He came back and dragged her against his body. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Anabella. The only thing I might ever regret about last night is either that it didn’t happen sooner, or that I might get you killed because of it. Now move it!”
Coop grasped her hand and took off, half-running, half-dragging her along behind him.
“Coop, what’s happening, I don’t understand.”
In the distance, she could hear a whirring sound. Coop heard it, as well, and tackled her into the soft grass on the other side of the road. His body was between hers and whatever danger it was he perceived. She watched as some small flying object sped toward the cottage.
“What is that?” she asked.
“A drone.”
They both turned to watch as the drone crashed into the metal roof.
“Well, that was anticlimactic.”
He pulled her to her feet and began running towards the trees on the edge of the property, all but dragging her along behind him. “Not really. Give it a minute.”
There was a crackling, sizzling sound as he tried to get them further away. The next thing she knew, the entire cottage exploded—the concussion of which knocked them both to their knees and sent rock, timber, and shards of metal everywhere. The air was full of flying debris and choking smoke. Her eyes, ears, and throat burned. Parts of the landscape all around them were bursting into flames.
Cooper stood up and pulled her to her feet, running his hands over her and checking her for injuries. Anabella had never been one for tears, but she could feel them streaming down her cheeks. He cupped her head in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs and saying something. She knew he was speaking because she could see his sensual lips moving—lips that not hours before had suckled at her breast and her clit. God, the man had a talented tongue.
“What the hell happened?”
Again, she could see his mouth forming words, but she couldn’t make them out for all the buzzing in her ears. He tried to tell her something as he pulled her forward, but she dug in her heels. She couldn’t help but feel that if she moved from this spot, her entire body would collapse and everything in her world would come apart.
She could see anger and frustration in his face and figured she was in for a lecture about not obeying him. She did have—at least for this one time—the perfect excuse. She literally could not hear a word he was saying.
He grabbed her laptop bag and the papers she had been clutching, those that were now scattered around and shoved them into his bag before scooping her up, hoisting her over his shoulder like she was some kind of feedbag, and then running for the trees.
Anabella wondered why no one ever mentioned that being carried upside down made all of the blood rush to your head and gave you a pounding headache. Or maybe that only happened after someone tried to blow you up. Her head hurt, her world was spinning, and she could feel the darkness creeping over just before her world went black.
Her last thought before she passed out, thinking she was dying, was that at least she had gotten to fuck Cooper McCullough numerous times—not a bad way to go out.
CHAPTER15
COOPER
Cooper paced back and forth in the small but private hospital room. It would have been more effective, and he wouldn’t have been in the medical staff’s way, if he’d paced in the hall like they wanted him to. Tough shit. He was not leaving her. He didn’t care what King said, or Seth said, or even Fitzwallace himself said. This was his woman, and he had no intention of leaving her.
“Mr. McCullough, you really should be lying down. The doctor wanted you to be admitted,” said the kindly nurse.
“Tell that old fart I’m fucking fine. I don’t need to be, nor do I want to be, nor will I be admitted anytime soon. Do you realize that bastard could have killed her? What the fuck was he thinking? If he comes near her again, he won’t survive the attempt. When does the new doctor arrive?”
“Dr. Harlowe has arrived and is looking over Mrs. McCullough’s paperwork. She should be in shortly.”
Coop had lied like a trooper. The staff had wanted to keep him away from Anabella. He told them she was his wife, and his men had backed him up. They were now stationed to protect her—one at the elevator, two at the beginning of the hall that led to her room, one outside her door, and Coop inside with Anabella.
The other men at the cottage had managed to get out and pick up him and Anabella and had raced them to the closest hospital. The first problem he’d encountered was the ER doctor was an idiot and didn’t seem to understand hearing loss resulting from a secondary blast of an explosive. He hadn’t understood Coop’s concern regarding the possibility of some kind of head injury that had resulted in her blacking out.
Finally, the head of the nursing staff had actually listened to him, and when she told him she’d been a combat nurse, he felt like someone was finally trying to help Anabella. The nurse had quietly called one of the other doctors, who was not on shift, but who had combat experience and who had agreed to come in.
