Lora Leigh - Guilty Pleasure

“Marty?” Shayne’s voice was instantly concerned. “What’s wrong?”

She tried to push herself upright. “I’ll have to call you back. Someone just tried to blow my head off.” She was going to throw up. “Bye, Shayne.”

She could hear him screaming her name as she flipped the phone closed and took a hard, deep breath. Her stomach was roiling. A sense of vertigo plagued her, as she struggled to sit upright.

She hadn’t hit her head. She hadn’t been shot. The car had slammed into a tree, however.

“Lady, you okay?” a voice asked her from outside the broken window.

Marty forced her eyes open and focused on the officer.

“FBI.” She forced the word past her lips as she tried to get her senses back into line. Pulling the small wallet from the inside of her jacket pocket, she flashed her identification at him and breathed in hard and deep once again.

Okay, she was going to get through this. She wasn’t hurt, just a little shaken.

“Agent Mathews, an ambulance is on its way.” The officer pulled the car door open and knelt beside her.

“Witnesses.” She breathed through her nose to get past the rising nausea. “Plates on that car.”

“My partner’s getting statements on it,” he assured her, rising and backing up as she started to pull herself out of the car. “You should stay put until the ambulance arrives, Agent Mathews,” she was advised. “They’re on their way.”

“I’m fine.” She waved his advice away but accepted his arm as he helped her step from the vehicle. “Did they get away?”

Of course they had gotten away. She couldn’t have been lucky enough that they had actually stuck around to be arrested and interrogated. Hell no.

“Sorry, ma’am.” The officer kept a firm hold on her as she swayed for a second. “You need to be checked out, ma’am.” There was a concerned look on his face. “You’re going to be bruised. Some of that glass got you.”

She shook her head again. “Contact Director Zachary Jennings, FBI, immediately. He’s my godfather.”

The officer snapped into place as Marty gave him her godfather’s name. Instant results produced instant action.

Within twenty minutes there were two detectives on the scene as well as a crime scene van and the personnel required to collect what little evidence could be gathered from the scene.

Pictures of the skid marks, witness statements, the bullets that had ripped into her leather seats.

It also didn’t take long for her godfather to call her father. Within thirty minutes of the detectives’ arrival Marty turned at the sound of screaming tires and watched her father’s Porsche come to a shuddering stop.

Just what she needed, Senator Mathews going ballistic. His temper didn’t explode often, but she had no doubt in her mind that it would be used today.

She wished she had allowed herself to pass out.

“Senator Mathews.” The detectives were quick, she had to give them credit for that as they chose their unwilling spokesperson. “Your daughter’s fine. She’s refused an ambulance, but allowed EMTs to check her out.”

“Get the hell out of my way.” Her father pushed past the frazzled detective, and a second later she found herself enclosed in her father’s embrace as he began trying to lead her back to the car.

That was her dad. He was already trying to rush her back into that parent/child world where he could coddle her and comfort himself.

“Whoa. Whoa.” Pulling herself back wasn’t easy. “Doesn’t work this way.”

He was icily furious. Marty pulled back enough to see the cold, precise rage burning in his gaze now. He had no idea what had happened and, for the moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting her somewhere safe.

“Don’t tell me what works,” her father growled. “I’m getting you the hell out of here,” he told her. “Where’s Khalid and Shayne? Damn those two to hell.”

“Doesn’t matter where they are,” she told him firmly. She had to struggle to assert the independence he was suddenly trying to strip from her. What happened to her supportive father? “I have a job to do.”

She hated it. It was breaking her heart not to stand there and comfort her father, to assure him that she was fine. To be a daughter. But to be a daughter right now would mean letting go of the independence she treasured. He was her father, and she understood his need to protect her. But right now, she didn’t need his protection. She needed to do her job.

Her stride was hesitant, aching, as she moved away from him, only to come to a stop once again as she all but plowed into Khalid’s chest.

She couldn’t fight him. Staring into his intense black eyes, his savagely hewn features, she knew she couldn’t fight him. She stared up at him instead, realizing he must have broken several speed limits to have gotten there so quickly.

As the warmth of him surrounded her, she suddenly had to do what she hadn’t had to with her father. She had to force herself to be strong rather than leaning into his strength, and it was all she could do not to sink into his arms. He had a determination to protect her. Fighting against that would be much harder with Khalid for some reason.

Instead, she stood still as he pulled a handkerchief from inside his pocket and gently dabbed at the cuts on her face.

Staring into his eyes, she felt more connected to him now than she had in his bed last night when she had lost her virginity in his arms.

“You’re bleeding, precious,” he stated calmly, though his black eyes were filled with fury and concern. Concern for her.

“Not badly,” she assured him.

He nodded before glancing at Shayne, who had just jumped from his car and was now headed toward them. “Do as you must. I’ll distract your fathers and give you a chance to do your job. I’ll have my personal physician ready when you’re finished, and then we’ll talk. Agreed?”

She swallowed. “Agreed.”

She was caught. There was no getting out of it, and the sense of relief she felt was almost as frightening as the knowledge that she truly didn’t want to run from him any longer.

“Talking won’t be easy,” she said softly.

“Most things that are worth fighting for are rarely easy, love,” he told her, before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “But we’ll muddle through, I’m certain.”

The calm, easy demeanor was at direct odds with the flames of rage burning in his eyes.

“Go.” He released her slowly. “Our time will come soon.”

Hell. She was definitely in trouble now.

Letting her go was perhaps the hardest thing Khalid had ever done in his life. He pocketed the white silk handkerchief that was now stained with her blood and watched with hooded eyes as she and Shayne moved off.

“Bad idea,” Joe snapped behind him. “She’s hurt.”

Khalid turned to him slowly.

“She would know if she was hurt badly,” he told the other man, and prayed he was right. “She is on her feet and making logical decisions. As long as she is doing this, we have no right to interfere.”

There was a long silence behind him then. He could feel the fury pouring off the other man as they watched Marty and Shayne move into the fray of witnesses and police officers that had gathered. Shayne was going to have a hell of a time dealing with Jennings once he arrived as well. Zach Jennings might make use of Shayne when he needed to, but on home turf, where his daughter was concerned, it would be a different story. The CIA wasn’t exactly bosom buddies of Zach’s. He was simply fonder of Shayne than he was of other agencies from that particular branch of covert operations.

“What the hell happened? I thought she left with you last night? Didn’t you stay with her?”