Page 36 of Hotter than Wildfire

Ellen looked down at herself. Her shoulder itched, but it didn’t hurt at all. She lifted her arm and sniffed. Someone had given her a sponge bath. She smelled fresh, of soap. She shifted the nightgown and looked at the neat bandage on the upper right chest. The bandage looked freshly applied. Curious, she lifted the tape and saw a wound with small neat black stitches. The scar wouldn’t be that big.

The skin was clean and clear around the wound. No infection.

Underlying all of that there was something else. A—a lack of something. Fear. She wasn’t afraid.

Fear had been her constant companion this past year, day and night, expecting at any moment the incursion of masked men, the punch of a bullet or the hot slice of a knife across her throat.

She’d been afraid and lonely every single second of the past year.

Right now, she wasn’t afraid and she wasn’t alone. For a small space of time, she was utterly safe. She didn’t even question it, this switch inside her that had been thrown. The switch from Harry Bolt is dangerous to Harry Bolt is safe. As crisp as an electrical switch. Darkness to light.

She couldn’t stay long, of course. His business, and the business of his partner, Sam Reston, the one married to the beautiful Nicole, and presumably of the other partner she’d never met, Mike, was to spirit her away. Set her up in a new life. So as soon as she was completely recovered, they’d put some new documents in her hands and point her on a new road.

Alone, of course. There was no question of that.

There was no doubt in Ellen’s mind that as long as Montez was after her, she’d be alone. And that might possibly hold true for the rest of her life.

So the important thing now was to savor every second of this time, while she wasn’t alone. While there was a man willing to sit by her bedside night after night and who was right now rattling pans in the kitchen.

Though the temptation was there to simply bask in this feeling, she knew she had to become well enough to get going soon. Every minute spent here was a luscious, golden temptation. She couldn’t afford to get used to this—to having someone look after her. To having a dangerous man on her side.

Now that her head was clear, flashes of memory were coming back. She couldn’t remember every detail of what had happened outside her hotel but the heart of it was that Harry Bolt had come running toward her and had killed three of Gerald’s men to save her.

A man like that on your side would make anyone feel safe.

She couldn’t afford that. Couldn’t afford to get used to the feeling of safety.

Get well and get out.

Step number one was to stand on her own two feet.

Okay. She’d been walking her whole life. How hard could it be to get back on her feet?

Ellen threw back the blanket, slowly shifted until her legs hung over the bed, looked down and swallowed. Whoa. The floor was way way down. She’d never been hospitalized before. Who knew hospital beds were so high?

How to do this? Maybe one leg at a time? Shifting her hips, she reached down with her right leg, stretching to find purchase on the shiny hardwood floor. Ah. One foot planted on the ground, now the other⁠—

Harry appeared at the door. “What would you like—hey!”

Ellen placed her left foot on the ground and her knees buckled. She gasped, stretched out her hands to break her fall and found herself swung up against a hard chest.

Her startled eyes met his. How had he moved so fast? He’d been at the door then he was right beside her to catch her fall. She hadn’t even seen him move.

A memory stirred. Harry racing at what seemed like the speed of light toward her, gun out, already shooting…

The man was fast.

He was scowling. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Ahm…getting out of bed? I’m not an invalid. And you yourself said the wound wasn’t serious.”

Harry’s scowl smoothed out as he looked down at her in his arms, golden eyes glowing.

“You’re scared,” he said softly. “You’re scared of being weak. You’re scared he’ll find you when you can’t fight back.”

Oh God, it was like he was looking right into her soul. “Or can’t run away.”

“You don’t have to be scared about that,” he replied, in a matter of fact tone. “He’s not going to find you. No one’s going to find you. No one’s going to hurt you, ever again.”