Too Charming (27 page)

Despite the tension of the moment, he smiled. ‘I do.’

‘Then get off the damned phone.’

Five minutes later, and Scott was still tapping impatiently on his wheel. He hated waiting. Hated not being in control. All he could do was watch and hope.

Just then a second car turned up. The man climbing out had to be Reg, the snivelling bastard. God, how Scott hoped he was about to get what was due to him. Reg Blake was one man he wouldn’t be defending in court. Foster, already inside the building as far as Scott could tell, was another. In a flash Scott recalled one of his conversations with Megan; his dogged insistence that everyone was entitled to a defence. Objectively, that was still true, and he stood by what he’d said. But right now it was hard for him to look at these two villains and believe it. He could only think that scum like Reg deserved to be sent straight to jail. Perhaps, he conceded, that was how Megan felt every time she worked hard to bring in the bad guys.

His attention was caught by movement from Megan’s car
. She was getting out. What the hell? Where was her backup? Screwing up his eyes he scanned the area, but he couldn’t see any other cars. Without thinking, he leapt out of his own and went to follow her.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Megan looked round with a start.

‘Scott, Jesus, you scared the living daylights out of me,’ she hissed, her heart racing like the clappers. ‘What are you doing out of your car?’

‘What are you doing out of yours?’ he countered, crouching down by her side near the entrance to the warehouse.

‘It’s getting heated in there. I heard Foster threaten Blake. I think he’s got a knife.’ She drew out her badge and started towards the door.

That was when she felt a hand on her arm, dragging her back. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he growled under his breath.

She tried to shrug off his hand. ‘I can’t just stand by and let one man kill another, no matter how appealing it might sound.’

‘You’re not going in there,’ he ground out, pushing her away and standing in front of her.

‘Of course I am.’ She shoved back at him. ‘It’s my job, Scott. Get out of my way.’

‘Wait for backup,’ he told her tersely.

‘It’ll be here in one minute. But someone in there could be dead in ten seconds if I don’t go in there now.’ She risked a peek through the window. Sure enough, Foster was waving a knife.

‘Well I’m going to make bloody certain that someone isn’t you,’ he replied through gritted teeth.

Briefly she shut her eyes. She didn’t have time for this. ‘Of course it won’t be me.’ She wanted to yell at him, but couldn’t. ‘I know what I’m doing. Now budge.’

Stubbornly he remained in her way. ‘Let me go first.’ She’d never seen him look so serious. So intense. ‘Please.’

‘I’m the police officer. You’re a civilian. If you come in at all, which I’m telling you not to, though when have you ever listened to orders? It’s behind me.’

Her annoyance must have finally got through to him – he relented and moved out of her way. ‘I know you know what you’re doing,’ he whispered as she moved past. ‘You’re brave and smart and tough, but I just can’t …’ Momentarily he shut his eyes. ‘I can’t stand by and watch you walk into danger by yourself. Please don’t ask me to.’

Her heart squeezed, but there was no time for her to reply.

As she moved into the small hallway, he was right behind her.

They could hear the voices of Foster and Blake coming from round the corner, in what at one time was probably a small reception area. The glow of the moon through the window highlighted the two men, facing up to each other.

‘When I told you to sort it, I didn’t bloody mean kill her, you stupid fool. I meant make sure she didn’t talk,’ Foster was saying, his voice cold.

‘She’d followed us. She knew everything, for Christ’s sake. How else could I shut her up?’

‘And what about you, huh?’ Foster waved a knife at the other man. ‘How am I going to shut you up?’

‘You don’t need to.’
Reg’s voice was pleading. ‘You know I won’t talk. I haven’t talked for years. Why would I start now?’

‘You might not have talked, but people are finding out. I can’t afford to let that happen.’ Foster’s tone was low and menacing. ‘I can’t have my name linked with any of this.’

‘It won’t be. I promise.’

Megan sensed the moment Foster was about to pounce. She shot out from behind the doorway and into the middle of the room. ‘It’s over, Foster. Drop the knife.’

Suddenly Foster wasn’t glaring at Blake any more. ‘Well, if it isn’t Detective Taylor.’

With a twisted grin on his face, he walked menacingly towards her, the knife still clutched in his hand.

She felt a moment of fear, but squashed it. She knew how to disarm a man with a knife. She was trained for this. Ready. Unconsciously she shifted so she was balanced on the balls of her feet, her eyes steady on the knife.

Megan braced as Foster raised his hand aloft. The blade glinted in the moonlight.

Scott appeared out of nowhere and charged forwards.

Megan watched in horror as everything
unravelled in front of her in slow motion. About to knee Foster in the groin and grab the knife, she found Scott in her way. She was powerless to do anything as the knife Foster was holding came flashing down. On Scott.

Who crumpled to the
ground.

Instinct took over. With Foster’s attention momentarily drawn to Scott, Megan aimed her knee and thrust hard into the bastard’s most sensitive parts. He let out a loud squeal and, before he knew what was going on, she’d kicked the knife out of his hand and cuffed his wrists.

Blake made to scarper, but the armed response team were already at the door, blocking his path.

It was over.

With her heart in her mouth, Megan rushed over to where Scott lay. Gently she turned him on to his back so she could see where he was hurt.

There was blood on the floor.
Far too much blood. Her stomach recoiled at the sight and she had to work hard not to give in to the urge to heave, or thump at the ground, break down and sob. Oh God, no, don’t let him die. She loved him, damn it. She loved him.

‘Stay with me,’ she whispered, her voice thick with fear. Lovingly she pushed back the dark, silky strands of hair from his forehead.

Just then his beautiful eyes blinked open, thankfully alert but filled with pain. Her heart, which had momentarily stopped, began to beat again. ‘Where were you stabbed?’

‘Shoulder,’ he grunted.

A huge red stain bloomed against the blue of his shirt. ‘Stupid bloody fool,’ she muttered under her breath.

‘Hey, I heard that.’ He groaned as he tried to sit up.

Immediately she pushed him, none too gently, back towards the floor. ‘Stay where you are.’

‘You want me flat on my back, eh?’ He grinned weakly and slumped on
to the concrete.

Her eyes filled. How could he make a joke? He’d nearly died for God’s sake. She wasn’t able to joke back. All she wanted to do was cling to him. She’d nearly lost him, for good, forever. Losing him to another woman, as she’d lost Luke, was one thing. Something she’d tried to protect herself against by breaking off with Scott first. But losing him forever … eyes blinded by tears, she let the paramedics take over as she stumbled away, into the cool, dark evening.

Scott didn’t remember much about the journey to hospital. He was fairly certain he remembered Megan calling him all kinds of fool, but after that it was pretty much blank until he woke up in a hospital bed with a drip in his arm.

‘You’ll live.’

He turned his head to find Megan sitting next to his bed. What more could a man ask for when he came round from surgery? He studied her more closely: beneath the sexy features she was looking too damn tired for his liking. ‘What time is it?’

She looked down at her watch. ‘Just after midnight.’

‘
Midnight
?’ He pushed himself up but then winced as a pain shot through his shoulder. ‘Where on earth did the time go?’

‘You pretty much slept it.’

‘And you?’

‘In between checking up on you and trying to explain to my superiors what on earth you were doing at the scene, I’ve been arresting
Reg Blake on suspicion of murder.’

‘And Foster?’

‘I’ve turned him over to the vice team. He’s in their hands, but I don’t think he’ll get off lightly.’

‘What a day.’ He lay back down against the pillows, his eyes still on hers. ‘God, to think you actually do this for a living.’ She flinched – he frowned. ‘What was that for?’

‘What?’

‘You flinched.’

‘I didn’t.’

He sighed. ‘Megan, give the injured man a break here. You flinched when I said you do this for a living. I saw you. Tell me why.’  Then he froze.  ‘God, they haven’t disciplined you because of me, have they?’

To his immense relief she shook her head. ‘No.’

‘What then?’

‘What I do for a living is …’ she paused and sighed. ‘Is hard for most men to understand.’

He regarded her steadily. ‘Not for me.’

He watched with interest as she dropped her eyes and fussed about with his sheets, straightening them out, even though they were so flat they might have been ironed by a steamroller. ‘Yes, well, we don’t know that for certain. You don’t really know me.’

‘I know all I need to know about you, Megan. I also know for certain that what you do for a living doesn’t bother me.’

‘What about that business back at the warehouse? You know, the moment where you didn’t want me to go in first, even though I was the one with the badge?’

He gave her an ironic smile. ‘Okay. Point made. I’m sorry. I told
you, it wasn’t that I doubted you could take care of yourself. It was just my innate, He-Man instinct coming out, I guess. You know. Man protects his woman.’

She glared back at him, though he wasn’t certain how cross she actually was as her eyes were much softer than her expression. ‘It was a stupid thing to do.’

Scott sighed and sunk further back against the pillow. Yeah. He’d heard that before. Why did he have to fall for woman who wasn’t impressed by machismo? ‘Can I help it if I’m a natural born hero?’

‘I mean it, Scott. Throwing yourself at a man wielding a knife was a dumb move. One that could have got you killed. Besides which, I had it covered. I was about to take him down when you got in my way.’

He wasn’t sure what hurt most, the stab wound to his shoulder or the one Megan had just delivered to his ego. ‘Well, right now my shoulder hurts like buggery, so yeah, it probably was a dumb move.’

Megan studied him for a few moments and then did something he’d given up all hope of seeing. She smiled. ‘It might not have been the wisest move, but it was kind of sweet.’

‘Sweet?’ He lurched forward: a huge mistake. One he regretted as soon as the pain seared down his arm. Once more he slammed back against the pillow. ‘I get myself cut to shreds trying to save your life and you call it
sweet
? What does it take to really impress you?’

Slowly Megan moved towards the bed and took hold of his hand. ‘You didn’t need to throw yourself in front of a knife to try and impress me, Scott. I was impressed a long time before that.’

‘You were?’

‘Yes. Your patience with my daughter impressed me. As did the loving, protective way you’ve handled your mum. A lot of men, ambitious men like you, might have washed their hands of an embarrassing mother a long time ago.’

He let her words slowly soothe his ruffled ego. ‘Does my mum know about Reg?’

Megan shook her head. ‘The hospital say she’s asleep at the moment. I thought maybe it was something you’d like to tell her yourself, tomorrow.’

He nodded. Telling his mother that she wasn’t a suspect any more was something he’d take great pleasure in doing. The part when he had to say that actually it was the man she’d been living with who’d killed the girl and then tried to frame her. No, that part he wasn’t looking forward to at all.

Megan was watching him thoughtfully. ‘I’ll come along, too. If it helps.’

He grimaced. ‘Thanks, but no. It’s probably something I need to do by myself.’ Then, realising he’d sounded harsh, he reached for her hand and raised it slowly to his lips. ‘Besides, you’ve done more than enough already,’ he added softly.

Fleetingly, she raised her eyes to his and he noticed her surprise and her uncertainty. God, there was so much he wanted to say to her. How could she ignore this heat that was between them still? Surely she could feel it now, just as he could.

Jerkily she stood to her feet. ‘Right then. I’d better get home. Remind my family that I still exist.’

‘Why are you running off scared, Megan?’ he asked quietly, watching as she studiously avoided any further eye contact with him. ‘You face bad guys with knives without batting an eye, yet you won’t look at me.’

‘I’m tired, Scott.’ It was an evasion. He knew it, she knew it. ‘I just want to go home.’

He desperately wanted to push her. To find out what was really going on in that active mind of hers. But she did look dead on her feet. There was a time and place for the type of conversation he wanted to have and this wasn’t it. ‘Okay. I’ll say goodnight then. Thanks for getting the bad guys.’

Finally she glanced at him for longer than a nanosecond. ‘No problem. Thanks for diving in front of the knife.’

‘Even though you had it covered.’

‘Yes. Despite that.’

After she’d left a wave of tiredness came over him once again and he closed his eyes. It was a mistake. All he saw was Foster clutching a knife and striding towards Megan with cold intent in his eyes. He’d lied when he’d said he didn’t have an issue with what she did for a living. It scared the hell out of him. Not enough to stop him from loving her, though. Not enough to stop him from doing whatever it took to make sure she
realised that.

Megan let herself quietly into the house. Apparently not quietly enough. Her parents pounced on her as soon as she’d closed the door.

‘Oh, my darling.’ Her mother hugged her. ‘How are you? Let me see for myself.’ She stood back and gave her a thorough once over.