Page 43 of Her Wicked Hero

Once again, she pressed the button multiple times. She didn’t have much time and wanted to make the most time with Zed. Oops, Dante. What the heck? Dante? Oh yeah, he’d introduced himself as Dante in the jungle. That’d seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Hey, there.” Strong arms steadied her as she rolled back on her feet. She looked up and for a moment she thought it was Zed. Marcia frowned as she realized that it was another big Hispanic-American man.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she smiled tentatively. It was the eyes. Their eyes were the same. “Do you know Zed?” she asked.

“Marcia?” he asked. “I’m Hunter Diaz.”

“Zed talked about you,” Marcia grinned.

“Let’s go on up, I’ll show you to his room.”

“It’s three-twenty-eight, right? I think I can find it on my own,” she assured him and stepped around him to enter the elevator. He held it open and pulled out his wallet. What was he doing?

“Take my card,” he said. “If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call.”

She took it out of his hand. “That’s really nice of you, but I’ll be fine Hunter.”

“You never know. Just think of me as a Zed stand-in until he’s up on his feet.”

The man might look a little like Zed Zaragoza, but there is no way he could compete. “Yeah sure,” Marcia said as she shoved his card into her pants pocket.

He gave her a slow smile that got really wide.

“What?” she asked defensively.

“I’m just thinking, it must have been an interesting time in the jungle.”

“Can you let the door go?” she scowled. “There isn’t that much time for visiting.”

“It was nice meeting you, Ms. Price,” Hunter said as he let the door close.

She watched the numbers as they turned over to three and thought about Hunter Diaz. What had all that been about? Well, at least he had been nicer than the suits she’d been dealing with for the last three days. When she got out of the elevator, she hustled down the hall as best she could to Zed’s room. His door was closed, so she knocked.

“Come in.”

Yep, it was him, she recognized that rumble from her dreams. Her straight white teeth bit into her lower lip as she considered that. What was she doing dreaming about his voice? She shook her head and opened the door. As soon as she saw him, relief poured through her. He was awake, and his black eyes were bright as he looked at her.

“Marcia,” he grinned broadly. “I planned to track you down.” He held out his hand to her. As if there was a magnet in his hand, and she was made of steel, she grasped it. He pulled her so she fell against him, his strong arm holding her as her face pressed against his cheek.

“Watch out. You’re hurt.”

“The bandage is on the other side,” he said gruffly. He was right, so she nuzzled against his neck, breathing him in. It was stupid. This wasn’t the reason she was here. She just wanted to say thank you, but there was no way she was going to leave his embrace.

“Hey. Hey. Are you okay?”

Darn it. She was getting his neck wet. She tried to pull away, but his arm held her in place. “Let me go.”

“Marcia, what is it?”

She pulled up enough, so she could look into his eyes. “I’m just emotional. It was a lot, you know?”

“Explain it to me,” he requested softly.

“I should have died at least five thousand times, but you saved me.”

“The way I remember it, you saved yourself. And you saved Nurul and Hana. You’re a hero.”