BULLETPROOF BRIDE (32 page)

She swiveled back to look at Gabe. His gaze held hers, his expression oddly wistful. His eyes conveyed yearning, sorrow and bone-deep regret.

She wouldn't just stand here and watch him die! Her gaze spun wildly over the deck. Suddenly, she knew exactly what to do. Deadly calm settled over her, cloaking her in warmth.

She looked at Gabe one final time, drinking in his face. Tucked the memory deep in her heart.
No regrets
. She stared into his eyes, telling him without words.
I love you
. The silent message arced between them.

Peter and Vic were watching Gabe, and didn't see her hoist herself onto the rail. For a sickening heartbeat, she stared over her shoulder into the roiling water.

Gabe's eyes darkened in horror as he realized her intent. He lunged. "No!"

She narrowed her focus to the huge metal crane in front of her and kicked with all her might. The bar slammed into Peter's back. He hurtled to the deck, his shot going wild.

She'd done what she could for Gabe. The rest was up to him. She managed a triumphant smile at him as the momentum threw her backward over the rail.

"Tessa!"
His anguished cry rang in her ears.

Then the icy water swallowed her alive.

Chapter 18

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A
white-hot flash exploded inside Gabe's head, burning out every thought except one.
Save Tessa!

Roaring, he tore apart the ropes shackling his wrists and whirled into a roundhouse kick that slammed into Vic's head. Vic staggered forward at the same time Peter stumbled to his feet, drunkenly waving the gun. Gabe shoved Vic into Peter. Peter fired off another shot, which hit Vic in the chest. Vic crumpled, and Gabe leapt over his body. Grabbing Peter's arm, Gabe jerked it back, then down across his upraised knee. The bone snapped like a dry twig, and he shrieked. Gabe picked him up and threw him over the side. He'd yanked off both shoes before he heard the splash.

He dived over the rail, ignoring the icy shock. Plunging deep, he searched the murky water for a glimpse of Tessa. With her hands tied, she would have sunk like an anchor. He swam until his lungs begged for air. Rocketing to the surface, he gulped in three breaths, dived again.

Over and over, he dived. His skin turned numb from the cold, his chest burned and his arms and legs ached like lead weights. But he continued the frantic search. He'd known the instant he'd seen her tied up in the bowels of the ship that she'd come to help him. And why. He'd decided then and there that if she could face her worst nightmare for him, he sure as hell could meet her halfway. He'd been ready to reach out, only to have her snatched from his grasp.

His mind screaming that she had been under too long, his lungs screaming from lack of air, he hit the surface, gasped in a huge breath, and again dived into the dark ocean, replacing his desperation and terror with resolve. By damn, he wasn't having it! Either he was coming back with her, or he wasn't coming back.

Finally, he spotted a blur of white far below—her sweater! He swam toward her. At the sight of her closed eyes and deathly pallor, his racing heart nearly burst from his chest. He grasped her limp, unresponsive body under the arms and dragged her to the surface. Quickly, he swam to the ship.

Throwing her over his shoulder, he climbed the ladder. He lowered her to the deck and put his cheek next to her nose. She wasn't breathing. His fingers pressed into the icy skin at her throat. No pulse.

Dark horror clawed at the edge of his mind, threatening to tear away his reason. He ruthlessly shoved his clamoring emotions down. If he lost it, Tessie would die. He forced himself to view her crumpled body as nothing more than a training mannequin as he tore the ropes off her wrists.

On automatic pilot now, he tilted her head back, pinched her nose and gave her his breath. He began chest compressions, counting until he reached fifteen, gave her more breaths. He repeated, pausing to check her pupils. They were dilated—bad, but reacted to light—good. Again, he pressed his fingers to her ice-cold neck. No pulse.

He repeated the CPR cycle, checked again. Nothing. "Come on, baby!" he muttered. More breaths, more chest compressions. His arms trembled and his head spun. Exhausted from the search, he was also shivering violently from his too-long immersion in the frigid Pacific. But he wasn't about to give up on her.

Breaths, compressions, check pupils, feel for pulse. Over and over. Somewhere along the way he started to shout. "Breathe, Tessa! Come on, sweetheart, breathe, please!"

More breaths, more compressions. No pulse.

"Damn it,"
he roared. "Don't you leave me!" Beyond reason, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her roughly.

She coughed, then wheezed in a slow, shuddery breath. Relief threatened to render him weak and useless, and he shut off his feelings completely, as he'd been trained to do in these situations. He couldn't help her if he didn't stay rational. He touched trembling fingertips to her throat and counted. Her pulse was
thready
, barely there. She was still unconscious.

He tore into the cabin to use the radio, then ransacked the room to locate a blanket and flare gun. He raced back to Tessa and checked her pulse. Her heart had stopped again.

He fired off the flare. He restarted the breathing and compressions, but couldn't get a steady heartbeat. He was doggedly performing CPR when the chopper arrived. As the aircraft hovered overhead, a medic dropped onto the deck beside him.

"I can't get her stabilized," he yelled over the rotors.

The medic motioned upward, and a woman landed on deck. Gabe continued compressions while the woman slid a ventilator tube down Tessa's throat. The man ripped open Tessa's blouse. He placed defibrillator paddles on her chest. "Clear!"

Gabe raised his hands. Tessa's body arched as the electric current charged through her body. The second the paddles lifted, he searched for a pulse.
Damn it
. "Nothing!"

They shocked Tessa twice more before finally establishing a weak heartbeat, then loaded her into the chopper. The medics stripped off her wet clothes and wrapped her in blankets. Refusing a blanket for himself, Gabe focused his entire being on Tessa, silently willing her to live. Her core temperature was so cold, the thermometer didn't register a reading. She
flatlined
twice. Twice the medics shocked her back to life. The twenty-minute flight lasted an eternity.

Seconds after the chopper touched down, Tessa was placed on a stretcher and hurtled toward the emergency room. When they reached the E.R., a gray-haired doctor took one look at her and turned to Gabe. The doctor's grim face spoke volumes. "You family?"

His pulse
jackhammered
. Unable to speak, he shook his head.

"Get her family here. In a hurry."

A nurse slammed the doors in Gabe's face. He forced his leaden feet to the phone where he managed to call Melody. He trudged into the packed waiting room, to two vacant seats under a wide bank of windows, and collapsed into a chair. He rested his elbows on his knees. Covering his face with his hands, he began to shake. No matter how hard he willed it, he couldn't stop.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before a small, warm hand touched his bare shoulder.

"Val?"

He looked up wearily and saw Melody bent over him. "The name is Gabe Colton. I'm FBI," he rasped. "Sit down." Wracked with violent tremors, he stared fixedly at the wall as he told her everything.

When he finished, Mel remained silent. Gabe didn't dare look at her. His control teetered on a razor edge. If she fell apart, he'd break down like a baby.

Her hand patted his shoulder again. "I'll be right back."

He didn't really care. A distant part of his mind recognized the symptoms of adrenaline crash. He'd trained himself to function normally when the adrenaline overload dropped, but this time he couldn't pull himself together.

He didn't know how many minutes ticked past before Mel returned. She grabbed his unresisting hand and tugged him up. Body aching, mind numb, he let her lead him down the hall and through a door. She gently touched his bruised ribs. "Does this hurt?"

He shook his head.

"I don't suppose you'd see a doctor." He shook his head again and she sighed. "I didn't figure." She slipped a shirt on over his head and worked his arms through the short sleeves.

When she slid down the zipper on his jeans, he snapped back to reality. "Hey!" Gabe jerked her hands off his fly. Dazed, he stared at the porcelain urinals lining the wall. "Are we in the head? Are you taking off my pants?"

The tiny blonde planted her fists on her hips. "You got a problem with that?"

He looked down at the green cotton shirt she'd put on him. She had matching pants draped over her arm. "Surgical scrubs? Where did these come from?"

"Sometimes you're better off not knowing." She arched her elfin brows. "You're freezing, your jeans are soaked and necessity is the mother of invention. You going to shuck those pants, big guy, or do you need help?"

"This isn't an audience participation event."

"If I recall, you didn't have any qualms about hanging around in the ladies' room." In spite of the pain shadowing her eyes, she smiled. "All right. If you can handle this on your own, I'll be in the waiting area."

She left, and he changed into the scrubs. She'd even found him a pair of those slipper-type shoes surgeons wore into the operating room. Feeling a little warmer and less stunned, he trekked back to the waiting room. "Any word about—" His throat closed up.

"No." She rose. "Sit down, before you fall down." She stood on tiptoe, placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him into a chair. She shoved a steaming cup of coffee into his right hand and a giant-size candy bar into the left. "Drink. Eat."

"Bossy little thing, aren't you?"

"Tess needs us. We've got to be strong for her."

His throat constricted again. He'd seen
drownings
before. He knew what happened to the brain when the body was deprived of oxygen for too long. Bile churned in his gut. He carefully set his coffee and candy bar on the table beside him.

"She will make it." Melody's chin wobbled, then firmed. "I refuse to believe otherwise." She thrust the coffee back into his hand. "You look terrible. Get something in your stomach or I'll rustle up an IV. I'm quick to pick up new skills, but I'd probably have to jab you at least half a dozen times."

"Aye-aye, ma'am." The corner of his mouth quirked. "Far be it from me to take on the pint-size blond tornado who whipped Steel Lucille's butt." He managed to drink the coffee and choke down half the Snickers bar. "Did you—" he swallowed down a lump that wasn't a peanut. "Call her mother?"

"Yes. She was in
L.A.
" Melody's fists clenched in her lap. "She's
too busy
to come. She said the doctor can phone her." Her slender body vibrated with fury. "She doesn't care about Tessa, she never has."

He covered her hands with one of his. "Tessie has us. We're here for her."

"But, Gabe. I am—was—an attorney." Melody bit her lip. "Vivienne is the only person legally entitled to make decisions regarding Tess. And she won't hesitate to put her convenience first. If Tessa's situation deteriorates to a life-or-death decision, Vivienne will be the one making it."

He squeezed her hands reassuringly. "We won't let that happen."

"We can't stop her."

He narrowed his eyes. Nothing was going to happen to Tessa on his watch. Especially not when he'd finally realized that his fear of loving her was minor compared to the soul-shattering agony of losing her. He inhaled a ragged breath. He couldn't lose her. Not now.

She'd stared at her worst fear when she looked over the railing into the cold, unforgiving
Pacific Ocean
. Yet she hadn't hesitated. She'd gone over … with remarkable courage, and a message of love in her eyes. A message for him.

I love you.

Facing down his own fear was the only way he would be worthy of her love. He was willing to bear any kind of pain, willing to risk anything—risk everything—to be with her. "I'll handle Vivienne if the need arises."

The E.R. doors swung open and a young, dark-haired nurse walked toward them, her face carefully neutral. Gabe started to shake again.

"You're the man who brought in Tessa Beaumont?"

At his nod, she continued. "We still can't get a core temperature, and her heart won't establish a regular beat." The nurse gave them a sympathetic look. "We're not giving up, but I have to be honest. Even if she rallies, there's a chance of brain damage. We'll do all we can, but you should probably prepare for the worst."

All the air slammed out of his lungs, and the room spun. Through a thick, red haze of pain, he watched the nurse hurry away.

Melody grabbed his hand. "Are you a praying man, Gabe?"

"I am now," he whispered.

Sixty endless minutes crept by.

Then sixty more.

Gabe sat frozen in the uncomfortable chair, bargaining with God, not sure if he wanted the doors to open again or not. As long as they stayed closed, it meant Tessa was still fighting. Still alive.