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Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when she recognized Shane. Then she dropped her purse and ran to meet him, TV cameras be damned.
Chapter 9
“Another attempt on the life of Senator Shane Jones, independent from Colorado, was foiled today in a remarkable turn of events,” the news anchor announced. “Correspondent Tate Westerly is on the scene. Can you tell us what we know so far, Tate?”
Carly snatched the remote from Shane’s hand and muted the sound before Tate could speak. Then she settled back against Shane’s shoulder. They watched the silent news coverage of Tate looking self-important in front of Shane’s relatively modest house just across the Potomac River from Georgetown, where Carly lived.
She gave a delicate snort. “I can’t stand him. And he never gets anything first. He just looks good in front of the camera.”
“You look good in front of the camera,” Shane replied mildly.
“Yes, but that’s not my only qualification for the job,” she insisted, sitting up straight to confront him. “I’m—”
“Yeah, I know.” Shane smiled. “Tiger Shark. No one can forget that, especially me.” He put a restraining hand on her arm, exerting gentle pressure. “Put that head back where it belongs,” he told her in no uncertain terms. And when she’d done so, he kissed her forehead. “I think I went a little crazy this evening when I thought...well...you know what I thought.”
“Me, too,” she confessed. “All I could think of was, if someone planted a bomb in my house, what about yours?”
“You know what this means, don’t you, that your house was targeted?”
She nodded. “Someone knows you stayed there last night.”
He shook his head. “That bomb wasn’t meant for me, it was meant for you. Which means you’re a target, too. Five will get you ten those two bombs were constructed and planted by the same man who sabotaged my car. I’m also betting he’s the same guy who tried to kill me at the Mayo Clinic. The assassin whose face you saw. He knows you saw him, Carly. He knows you can identify him. That’s why he wants to take you out. Me? Whatever he has against me, that’s one thing. With you it’s personal.”
* * *
She didn’t say anything for the longest time, and Shane wondered what she was thinking. He knew what he was thinking—this thing with Carly had rocketed to the top of his personal hierarchy of needs in nothing flat. The time from the moment he’d met her in his hospital room to today hadn’t even encompassed a week. But when he’d heard someone had been spotted leaving her town house in DC—the same someone who’d been spotted leaving his house in Virginia—all he could think of was warning her. Then getting to her side. All he could think of was keeping her safe the way he hadn’t kept Wendy safe.
His wife had been targeted because she was married to a US Marine assigned to NATO. The terrorists had reasoned striking a blow at the United States, as well as NATO, would have more political impact on delivering their message than if they’d targeted an unrelated civilian. And they’d been right—the news coverage had been lurid and unrelenting.
Now Carly was in danger because of him, too. And that was not going to happen. Not if he had anything to say about it.
The FBI and ATF had refused to allow Carly inside her town house so she could pack a suitcase. They’d told him the same thing—they needed time to sweep both houses to make sure there wasn’t another bomb or a booby trap somewhere. Sorry, Senator, the lead FBI agent on the scene had told him. It’s just not safe. If we don’t find anything, you and Ms. Edwards should be able to get back into your homes tomorrow.
So he and Carly had stopped at the nearest discount store for the bare minimum of essentials they would need overnight, and here they were in a hotel room in DC—with FBI agents outside the door.
He didn’t know how long that federal protection would last—they hadn’t volunteered the information and he hadn’t thought to ask earlier. He could take care of himself, but he was frantic to keep Carly safe long-term. He didn’t know who he needed to talk to, but he’d find out first thing tomorrow morning and argue his case—he wanted the FBI guarding Carly until the lunatic trying to kill them was caught.
