Lulling her.
It didn’t make sense. She didn’t care.
She was too busy relaxing into Dare’s chest, into him.
She felt his breath drag in, deep and steady. Felt the solid thudding of his heart beneath her blouse, his hypnotic heat envelop the rest of her flesh. If the man hadn’t chosen that moment to shift, to pull away ever so slightly, she wasn’t sure she’d have found the strength to move.
Dare dropped his arms as she turned. He didn’t step away from her as she’d expected, though. He hunkered down beside her instead, the sleeve of his tailored suit brushing her thighs as he reached into the car. She watched, stunned, as those callused fingers gently smoothed the hair from her brother’s brow as if he was a child who needed comforting.
“He’s doing great, Abby. He just needs time.” Dare straightened and captured her eyes with that enigmatic emerald stare of his as he turned to fold his arms and lean against the quarter panel of the police cruiser. “Brian will be fine in the morning, I promise.”
He meant it.
How could he be so sure? According to that article in Saucy, Darian Sabura had never even attended college, much less medical school. So why did she believe him?
Because she wanted to.
Somehow Abby managed to pull herself together, to shake off the bizarre spell this man had woven within her. This time she stepped away from him, putting two feet of desperately needed distance between them. To her surprise, the dizziness didn’t return with the sudden motion. Neither did the ache in her head or chest. Heck, she hadn’t even swayed.
But Dare had.
“Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer. It didn’t matter. The blood draining from his cheeks said it all. Dare closed his eyes as he ran his hands through his hair before dragging them down to knead his neck. Something was definitely off with the man. Had he taken a whack tonight himself? He didn’t appear bruised.
By the time he folded his hands back about his chest, the fatigue appeared to have eased from his gaze. But it was still in his weary nod. “I’m fine, thank you. So is your brother. He is tired, however. He was inconsolable at first, but the EMTs and I managed to calm him. Unfortunately—as the EMT said—his mind and body simply shut down following his exam.” Something she couldn’t quite place flitted through the man’s somber gaze. Bruised or not, it was not her imagination. She’d swear the man’s body was on the verge of shutting down, as well.
From calming Brian?
Saving her?
It didn’t make sense. Not given his hobbies. The man might not be bleeding from a cut on his temple as he had that night in her apartment, but he was definitely drained. But like that night, she’d lay odds he had no intention of discussing his health. She pushed the curiosity away and knelt to thread her fingers through her brother’s hair. “Thank you for looking out for Brian. I can take him now.” To be honest, though, she had no clue how she was going to manage. Brian might be two inches shorter than her, but he was twice as solid. She smoothed the hair from his forehead. “Hey, bro, time to wake up.”
“Don’t. Your brother needs rest.” She stiffened as Dare’s hand closed over hers. Not because of his touch, but because of the high-handedness of his order. Who did he think he was?
“I know what Brian needs. He’s my brother.” The moment the words lashed out, she regretted them.
Good Lord, she sounded like a spoiled brat arguing over a toy. This man had saved her life. Brian’s, too. Shame seared her cheeks as she stared at the dusky fingers still clapped about her wrist. The same fingers she’d first spotted clinging to her windowsill exactly one week ago. She lifted her chin and studied the man she’d spent the past five days vilifying, if only in her mind. She had no idea why Dare had tried to keep her out of Tristan Court. It no longer mattered. She just knew she should have accepted his word outside his penthouse that night. Dare didn’t give a damn about her brother’s Down’s.
Not the way Stuart and his scheming mother had.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” She drew her breath in deep, her gratitude in deeper—and forced herself not to extend her hand, much less give in the sudden urge to outright hug the man. “Mr. Sabura, I can never repay you for what you did for me. You saved my life. More important, you saved my brother’s. I’ll never forget that, or you. Thank you.”
She understood then that Dare thrived on the challenges and the adrenaline inherent in his intense recreational pursuits because he did not get off on adulation and glory. Even with the emergency lights still glancing off his cheeks, she could make out the deep flush on his cheeks. He seemed as much at a loss for words as she.
But she had feeling he didn’t want to be. In fact, she could have sworn he had something he wanted to say. Desperately.
In the end, he simply cleared his throat. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was near enough to help.”
Abby blinked.
Come to think of it, why was he here?
She must have been in shock, because for the first time that night she took in the man’s dark tailored suit and really looked at it. At him. There was no way Dare had just happened by Lincoln Center, not tonight and not dressed like that. He was here because of her. The tickets she’d pushed on him. He must have decided to use them after all. But in the end, he hadn’t. He couldn’t have. Marlena would have noticed. The VIP seats she’d given Dare were on the opposite side of where Brian, Marlena and Nathaniel’s had been.
So what had happened?
Abby studied the tinge of gray left behind as the flush faded from his cheeks, the exhaustion lingering in his eyes. The terse set to his lips. Had he taken ill at the last moment? Decided to wait outside in the fresh air?
For her?
She was about to throw conceit to the wind and ask when the paramedic returned with a shorter, dark-haired man in tow. From the gold badge hooked over the pocket of his rumpled suit, she could see the guy was plainclothes cop. Early forties, she’d guess. From the lines carved about his pinched, reedy face, not to mention reddened eyes and scruffed jaw, the cop was either overworked or he was already burned out from years of dealing with crime and death. She decided on the latter when he didn’t bother shifting his foam cup of coffee from his right hand so he could extend it to her.
He didn’t even glance at Dare. “I’m Detective Pike, Ms. Pembroke. Homicide. As soon as the paramedics have had a chance to look at you, I’ll need you to come down to the station, fill out an official statement, answer a few questions.”
“I’m sorry, Detective. I’m afraid I can’t go anywhere with you. Not tonight. I need to get my brother home, into bed.”
Pike shook his head. “I’m afraid I insist.” He glanced into the cruiser, his impatience barely concealed beneath a swift sip of steaming coffee. “From what the EMT tells me, your brother’s not going to be any help. Kid doesn’t remember a thing. Though I suppose we could always try hypnosis.”
“No.”
The man shrugged. “Well, in that case, can’t you call a friend? Or better yet, just drop him somewhere on the way?”
That was it. She’d had more than enough.
She might have misinterpreted Dare’s feelings toward her brother and missed Stuart’s altogether, but there was no mistaking this moron’s. She didn’t care if the man was overworked, she didn’t care if he was the next chief of police.