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She was still puzzling about it when Rylan turned to face her. “Can’t sleep?”
“How do you do that? Comatose to wide-awake in the blink of an eye?”
“Years of practice.” His gaze scanned her face. “What’s troubling you?”
“Right this minute?” She snuggled closer to him. “Absolutely nothing.”
Chapter 6
It was 10:00 p.m., and the Diamond was full of people who were determined to party hard despite the sub-zero temperatures. Live music poured out from various bars, along with delicious food aromas and the mingled scents of cocktails and beer.
Bree and Rylan, having bundled up warm, were content to soak up the atmosphere. Walking hand-in-hand through the crowd, pausing to sway in time to a favorite track, or try a sample from one of the street vendors, they were too focused on each other to care about much else.
“Who’d have thought a Hungarian sheepdog would be so squeamish about the cold?” Bree was referring to Papadum’s reluctance to accompany them. When he realized they were going out, the dog had attempted to cram his large body under Bree’s bed. Trying to get him out had turned into something resembling a scene from a slapstick comedy. In the end, they had given up and left him in the apartment.
“At least I have two hands free to do this.” Rylan caught her around the waist, drawing her tight against him.
Decorative iron street lamps were set at regular intervals around the perimeter of the Diamond, and colored lightbulbs were strung between them. They had halted beneath the glow of a yellow bulb, and as Rylan bent to kiss her, golden highlights touched his hair and cheeks. Bree’s eyelids fluttered closed as she clutched his lapels. The things this man could do to her...
They had been lovers for two days, and every minute had been as magical as the first. The only problem was that reality kept intruding. She wanted to spend every moment with Rylan, but she had a gallery to run and a show to prepare for.
Just as her lips touched his, the high-pitched crack of a gunshot jolted them apart. It was followed by an explosion as the glass bulb over their heads shattered.
Bree barely had time to utter a startled exclamation before Rylan moved. Grabbing her arm and pulling her down so she was hunched over next to him, he propelled her into a zigzagging run. When he dragged her into the nearest bar, Bree expected him to dive for cover in one of the booths. Instead, he kept on going, straight through the public area, into the kitchen and out through an emergency exit at the rear.
“Rylan, what...?”
They were in the parking lot. Ducking behind the nearest car, Rylan reached inside his jacket and withdrew a gun from a shoulder holster. Still holding tight to Bree with one hand and the weapon with the other, he dodged from vehicle to vehicle, his sharp blue gaze constantly taking in his surroundings.
Releasing Bree’s hand, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew his keys. A nearby vehicle beeped, and Rylan opened the passenger door before gesturing for Bree to go ahead of him. After another quick scrutiny of their surroundings, he joined her and gunned the engine.
As he maneuvered fast onto Second Street, he cast a quick glance in her direction. “Are you injured?”
She raised a hand to her forehead, feeling a thin trickle of blood. “Not seriously.”
Lapsing into silence, she gazed out the window for a few minutes as the built-up area thinned and they left the center of Roaring Springs behind. Finally, when her thoughts became too much to bear, she turned to look at Rylan. At his muscular body and the strong determined lines of his profile. She thought about the speed with which he’d moved. As soon as that gunshot was fired, he’d been all action. A total professional.
“You are not an art promoter.” It wasn’t a question.
“No. Until recently, I was a personal security consultant. I ran my own agency.”
Bree swallowed hard. She should be glad he hadn’t lied, right? So why did she feel like her whole world had just come crashing down around her? The happiness she’d felt in his arms minutes earlier had been an illusion. It had shattered like the golden bulb above their heads when it had been hit by a bullet.
“I guess it was my parents who hired you.” She forced the words past the choking sensation in her throat. “If you’re not still in business, how did they find you?”
