More Than Friends (The Warriors)

BOOK: More Than Friends (The Warriors)
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More Than Friends
by
Laura Taylor

An Updated Edition of the Loveswept Classic

Please visit Ms. Taylor’s website:
www.authorandeditor.com

On Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/laura.taylor.50309

On Twitter:
https://twitter.com/AuthorLTaylor

Copyright ©2012 by Laura Taylor
Published in the United States by Blue Jay Media Group
ebook ISBN–13: 978–1–936724–17–8

Cover design ©2012 Blue Jay Media Group

Copyright ©1993 by Laura Taylor
ISBN–10: 0553443674, ISBN–13: 978–0553443677
Bantam Loveswept

All rights reserved. No portion of this book, whether in print or electronic format, may be duplicated or transmitted without written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

Other Books by Laura Taylor
available at Amazon.com

Intimate Strangers

Fallen Angel

Desert Rose
The Warriors Series, Book 1

Midnight Storm
The Warriors Series, Book 2

Heartbreaker
The Warriors Series, Book 3

More Than Friends
The Warriors Series, Book 4

Wilder’s Woman
Troubled Waters
Wildflower
Jade’s Passion
Starfire
Promises
Winter Heart
Lonesome Tonight
Seduced
Dangerous Surrender
Slightly Scandalous
Cloud Dancer
Anticipation
The Christmas Gift
Smoke and Mirrors

Honorbound, hard cover and paperback

To Sue & Chris Simmons—for all the right reasons.

Table of Contents

Cover
Title
Other Books By
Copyright
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12

1

The woman moaned as she shifted atop the examining table in the Urgent Care clinic. Her thoughts resembled a clump of tangled yarn, and she sensed that she was in the throes of the worst migraine of her life. She gingerly moved her head. The brass band playing in her skull grew deafening. She exhaled, allowing her body to go limp.

She flinched when she heard a deep voice mutter a harsh–sounding word. A heartbeat later she felt the possessive grip of what could only be a strong male hand as it encompassed her smaller one.

She struggled to open her eyes. She succeeded in squinting up at the man who towered over her. Glimpsing the worry etched into his rugged facial features, she experienced a moment of genuine panic. But something in his eyes told her that he posed no threat to her—not this dark angel of a man who seemed to be stationed at her side like a sentry unwilling to abandon his post.

"What…" She tried once again to lift her head. Made dizzy by her efforts, her senses swam and nausea threatened.

"Take it easy. You’re going to be alright," he promised.

"Don’t… lie." Trumpets blared and drums pounded in her skull. "Tell… me… what… happened. Please." She squeezed her eyes shut. Trembling, she clung to his hand and drifted on a sea of pure agony.

Brett Upton couldn’t take his eyes off Leah Holbrook. He realized that the years—years they’d spent apart—had only enhanced her delicate beauty. Although pale and bruised from the kidnapping attempt he’d managed to foil, Leah represented every memory of love he possessed. She’d also become his personal symbol of light and hope in the midst of the darkness and chaos that dominated his world.

Amazed even now by the warm, silky feel of her skin, Brett stroked the inside of her arm in an attempt to soothe her. The knowledge that she had been hurt because of him gnawed at his soul, and he silently vowed that no further harm would come to her. He would protect her—with his life should the need arise.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Brett glanced up, his hand sliding automatically to the weapon tucked against the small of his back. Concealed from view beneath his leather jacket, the gun was part and parcel of the dark side of his life. When the doctor who’d examined Leah and then ordered a series of X–rays stepped into view, Brett let his hand fall away from the gun.

"How’s our patient doing?"

The patient winced in reaction to the sound of the high–pitched female voice. She brought her free hand up to massage her temple, groaning when she made contact with a walnut–sized lump just above her hairline.

Brett carefully smoothed Leah’s hand away from her wound. Clenching his fist when he saw the droplets of blood that still dotted her forehead beneath wispy golden bangs, he managed to answer the doctor’s question with a steady voice. "She’s awake, but she’s still groggy and in a lot of pain."

"That’s not surprising, Mr. Upton," observed the doctor, sliding a sheaf of X–rays onto a nearby table. "She slammed her head into a slab of concrete when she fell. Just be thankful she’s no longer unconscious, because that would certainly be cause for concern."

"Does she need to be hospitalized?" he asked.

"I don’t believe that will be necessary."

"What about the X–rays?" His voice resembled granite as he prepared himself for the worst.

"Good news on that score. I’ve studied them, and I don’t see any abnormalities."

Brett exhaled, his relief obvious.

"Head… hurts," Leah whimpered. She opened aquamarine–colored eyes swimming with tears, peered up at the doctor, and pleaded silently for relief.

The doctor patted her shoulder. "Of course, it hurts, my dear, but your headache should be gone by morning."

Feeling responsible for what had happened to Leah, frustration resonated in his voice when he demanded, "Can’t you give her something for the pain?" He gripped her hand even more tightly.

"I could, Mr. Upton, but I’d rather not. It’s best not to drug a patient with a head injury, but something tells me you already realize that, don’t you?"

He nodded, the gentleness in the doctor’s voice shaming him. He didn’t have to like it, but his experience on the battlefield and his emergency medical training assured him the doctor was right. Brett also knew Leah was strong enough to get through until morning on sheer grit if she needed to. Although he’d purposely kept his distance from her, he’d spent the last six years acquiring a healthy respect for her courage, so he didn’t expect her to cave in on him now.

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