Page 32 of Too Guarded to Love

Olivia squeezed Gran’s hand as she glanced at the clock on the wall in MedLab. Six hours ago, she wouldn’t have had the strength to squeeze anything.

Holy crap, she’d never experienced such fatigue. But after she’d been taken back to her room and slept, she awakened with a jittery belly, the need to see Gran, and a dozen questions. While assassins and dead reporters should top the list of information she wanted, getting in touch with Harlee, who’d become more than a patient, edged them out.

Maybe Ryan and his computer console could retrieve the number Harlee had called her from. She needed to explain why she’d missed their meeting last night.

But what parts could she explain without divulging classified information?

She had no idea, but she knew one thing for sure. Until now, getting caught by her father in an empty barn stall with her high school’s rodeo champion had been her most embarrassing moment to date. Slumping in her chair in front of “the nation’s strongest fighting force,” as Kane liked to brag, surpassed the barn incident tenfold.

At least this time, she had a shirt on. And the president had left before she fainted. Score one for the civilian on the scene.

She squeezed Gran’s fingers again. “Wake up. It’s ten in the morning and I need to talk to you, and not about the unreal life-and-death stuff going down. You see, I met someone, and I need you to set me straight. You know I don’t believe in the soulmate thing. I mean, I guess I do if two people fall in love and choose to spend the rest of their lives together, but…”

She waved her hand. The charms on her bracelet jingled, but Gran didn’t stir. “Anyway, let’s say for the sake of argument, you really do possess some sort of soulmate sixth sense. And let’s say maybe I sort of believe you.” She blew out a breath. “Whew, I never thought I’d say that, but I need you to tell me this cockamamie connection that I’m probably imagining between me and Nic is nothing but simple attraction ’cause the man is too sexy for words and not the kind of guy I want to⁠—”

The door creaked behind her. She spun, the pain in her arm less agonizing than earlier thanks to the wonders of modern medicine. The pounding in her head made up for it as Mr. Too Sexy for Words himself slipped into the room.

He closed the door behind him with a gentleness that belied the grip he’d had on her hair when she’d been on her knees at his feet.

“You should still be asleep.” He leaned against the door. “You need to rest.”

“So do you.”

“I had urgent work to take care of.” He nodded toward the bed. “How is she?”

“Stable.” Olivia ran her finger over Gran’s barely wrinkled cheek. The woman had youthful genes. Her hair, which she kept in a cute short cut, hadn’t even gone fully gray, as if defying nature.

Nic crossed the room and dropped a duffel bag at Olivia’s feet. “I asked Joe to get our things from the bungalow.”

She met his dark gaze. “My boots, too?”

“Yes.”

“I was wondering if I’d ever see them again.” She let go of Gran’s hand and pressed her fist against her heart. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t have the urge to puke.”

“Good.” He took a step closer. “Now that you’re feeling better, how about telling me what the hell you were thinking back at the beach?”

The blaze in his eyes rumbled like a crowd at a boxing match who’d waited hours for the main event. She didn’t back down. She’d been the one to start the fight.

Nic stalked the few feet to the wall and turned. “You knew damn well who I was when we met.”

“I didn’t at first, but I did later and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

He fisted his steel hand and raised it to his chin, just under the bruise from Kane’s punch. “Why?”

“Because if I told you who I was, you would have treated me like Kane’s sister.”

He threw both arms to the side. “Dios, Olivia, that’s exactly who you are, and exactly how you should be treated. Do you have any idea the trouble you may have caused between me and your brother? We’re a team. We eat, sleep, train, and relax together. We have each other’s six. We’re one unit, and you put that in jeopardy by not telling me who you were.”

His damning words registered, but she fixated on the way he said her name. Her family and friends called her Livvie. At work, she was Dr. Darren. When her colleagues used her first name, it sounded almost clinical, like a slight step down from professional, but not quite comfortable and casual. But the way Nic said her name should be studied by science. Surely his deep voice, laced with exotic spice, and the way every syllable sounded like a caress, had to possess some sort of healing power. Maybe unlimited properties to increase fertility. Or a cure to guarantee womankind multiple orgasms.

“Olivia.” He closed the distance between them. “Answer me?”

Anger cascaded from his shoulders. The primal surge heightened the intensity in the room.