She barely restrained her urge to attack the guard and demand that he tell her who he was talking to, who he was bringing her to meet. But she couldn’t risk getting hit again. An apparent blow had already cost her too much—of her strength and her mind.
And she needed all she had of both to escape before the guard brought her to the airport. She feared that if she got on that private plane, that she would have no hope of ever regaining her freedom.
She couldn’t trust that the man who had snuck in would keep his word to return and help her. She didn’t know if he even could—if Timmer had survived his confrontation with the guard. She waited but Mr. Centerenian said nothing of the man he’d caught in her room.
Was he alive or dead?
And who the hell was he or had he been to her?
PAIN EXPLODED IN Aaron’s stomach, sending his breath from his lungs in a whoosh. He doubled over, hanging from the arms holding him back. Not that he couldn’t have broken free had he wanted to fight. But as he writhed around in an exaggerated display of pain, he lurched forward and accidentally fell against the guard who was using him as a punching bag.
“And don’t come back unless you want more of that,” the man warned as he pushed Aaron back. He pushed him through the gate he’d already opened that led from the building to the employee parking lot.
The lot was behind the big brick building and dimly lit. The few parking lights flickered and cast only a faint glow that reflected off the windshields and metal of the cars filling the lot. Darkness was gathering, pushing the last traces of daylight into night.
The gate snapped shut behind him and the lock buzzed. That gate and the one between the guest parking lot and front entrance were the only ways through the sixteen-foot-high fence surrounding the building.
Serenity House was a freaking fortress—more prison than hospital. If Charlotte was the woman in Room 00, it was no wonder that she hadn’t managed to escape yet—despite her skills. Of course if she’d been telling him the truth, she’d forgotten all those skills…except for how to strangle him. Only she hadn’t been as strong as the woman he remembered—as the woman with whom he’d made love one unforgettable night.
Images flashed through his mind. Moonlight caressing honey-toned skin and sleek curves. His hands following the path of the moonlight. Then his lips…
And her hands and her soft lips, touching him everywhere. Passionate kisses, bodies entwined…
His breath shuddered out in a ragged sigh as he shook off those skin-tingling memories. That had been one incredible night. And even though they’d used protection, it wasn’t foolproof.
Was that baby she carried his? The dates would probably be about right. But was the woman?
He would find out soon. For the sake of the guards who watched him yet from behind the gate, he stumbled across the parking lot with the drunkenlike stagger of a boxer who’d taken too many hits.
Aaron had driven separately from the U.S. Marshal, which was good since Jason “Trigger” Herrema had left him without a backward glance. Some partner Trigger must have been to Charlotte. No wonder she was so strong and independent. And no wonder she had resigned from the U.S. Marshals for private security.
But Charlotte Green wasn’t the only one with skills. Aaron clutched the ID badge he had lifted from the guard who’d hit him. The guy had seemed too arrogant an SOB to admit or even realize that Aaron had taken the badge off him. At least not right away. But he might eventually figure it out. So Aaron had to act quickly.
But not too quickly that they were waiting and ready for him to try something. He also needed backup. Obviously he couldn’t count on Trigger, the man, so he needed another kind of trigger—one on a gun.
He hurried toward his vehicle, which was a plain gray box of a sedan that he’d rented at the airport. His gun wasn’t inside but back at the cottage he’d found in the woods near Serenity House. He hadn’t rented it; he hadn’t needed to—it had looked abandoned or at least out of season for the owners. The cottage was close enough that he’d figured they would be able to run there if they weren’t able to reach his vehicle.
But now that he had seen Charlotte or Princess Gabriella or whoever the hell she was and realized how weak she was, he suspected that outrunning anyone was out of the question.
He needed wheels and a very powerful engine. Maybe he should have gone for fast rather than nondescript when he’d rented a car. Just as he was considering his choice, shots rang out—shattering the rear window. He ducked down, easing around the trunk toward the driver’s side. Maybe if he kept the car between him and Serenity House, the guards wouldn’t have a clear shot—if they were the ones shooting. But he’d seen no weapons on them. Then the driver’s side windows shattered, bullets striking first the rear window and then the front window.
“I’m not getting the deposit back on this rental,” he murmured as he clicked the key fob to unlock the doors. He could have just reached through the shattered window and unlocked it himself, but he didn’t want to raise his head too high for fear that it might be the next thing a bullet hit.
He didn’t even know where the hell the shots were coming from. Serenity House? Or somewhere in the parking lot behind him?
He ducked down farther, suspecting the shots might have been coming from behind him. Maybe he had his answer about where the hell the private security guard had gone. Instead of standing sentry outside Room 00, he’d set up an ambush outside Serenity House.
With the door unprotected, Aaron had the best chance to free Charlotte or Princess Gabriella. But he couldn’t go back inside. Shots kept firing, and he knew it was just a matter of time before one struck him. He had to get the hell out of here while he still could.
Chapter Four
Shots rang out, echoing inside Jane’s aching head. She reached for her gun, but it wasn’t on the holster. Hell, she wasn’t even wearing the holster. Instead her fingers encountered the soft mound of her burgeoning belly. Of her baby…
She jolted awake, as if fighting her way out of a nightmare. But she awakened to the nightmare, not from it. She still couldn’t remember who she was or how she had wound up trapped in this strange hospital jail. But she hadn’t forgotten that she needed to get the hell out of here.
And not to that private airport. She couldn’t let the surly Mr. Centerenian take her there. When? Tomorrow night? Tonight? She had no idea how long she’d been asleep. She wore no watch, and there was no clock for her to mark the seconds, minutes or hours.
Given the urgency of her situation, how had she fallen asleep? Was she the one to whom the nurse had really lied? Had Sandy actually slipped her a sedative? But Jane didn’t feel groggy from drugs. She was just tired—either because of the concussion or the pregnancy.
The baby shifted inside her, kicking against her ribs as if trying to prod her into action—reminding Jane that she had someone besides herself to protect now. No matter who the father was—she was the mother. Something primal reared up inside her, clutching at her heart and her womb. A mother’s instinct, a mother’s love. This was her child.
Her baby girl. She felt it with a deep certainty that the baby she carried was a girl. Had she had an ultrasound? Even though she didn’t remember the process, maybe she remembered the results.
“Okay, baby girl, I don’t know how we got here,” she murmured. “But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that we’re getting out.”
She just had to figure out how. She tugged on her wrists, fighting to loosen the restraints. Maybe that man—Mr. Timmer—hadn’t tightened them as much as she’d feared. Or maybe the nurse had returned and loosened them while Jane had been sleeping. Either way, she had enough play to slip one hand free. Just as she reached out to undo the other strap, the lock beeped.