Jennifer Morey - Executive Protection

“Are we clear?” Chief Thomas asked.

“We’re clear.” Clear that Wade Thomas could not find out what he and Darcy did to investigate the shooting.

Wade stared at him for several seconds, not believing. If Thad’s poker face wasn’t working, he couldn’t tell.

“If that’s all, I’d like to go see my mother,” he said to get out of there.

“That’s all for now.”

Thad nodded once and turned, vowing to be extra careful not to clue Wade into anything. He’d fallen short in that duty once. He’d be damned if he’d fall short again.

* * *

Lucy Sinclair looked forward to coming to work every day. She loved being on her feet at Duke University Hospital, helping patients recover from whatever had put them there. Talking to them, getting to know a little about their lives. Except when they died, of course. No nurse she’d ever met enjoyed that part of the job. Today was a good day because nobody was going to die.

Her smartphone vibrated. Stopping on her way to Kate Winston’s room, she removed the phone from her uniform pocket and leaned against the hallway wall to get out of the way of a gurney being rolled toward an operating room. Lifting one white New Balance walking shoe, she propped it up on the wall behind her and navigated to the new message on her phone, smiling when she recognized the name. Cameo Harmon. Or Cam as he called himself, the new man she’d met online who had exciting potential. She’d gone on two dates with him this week. He called and texted her every day. A man who gave a girl that much attention had to be interested. That put him on the top of her list of eligible bachelors.

A sales director for a data management company, her first impression of him was that he was a hard worker with a vibrant personality. She supposed he got that from being a salesman. Her mother had cautioned her about that. She said salesmen couldn’t be trusted because they were like actors. They acted their lives out instead of living in reality. But Cam was nice and successful—and not bad-looking.

How’s my new girl today? his text said.

“It must be good if it puts a smile like that on your face.”

Lucy looked up to see Thad Winston standing before her in the hallway, handsome in dark slacks, black leather shoes and a black leather jacket over a lavender dress shirt. The first thing that struck her was how much better looking he was than Cam. Taller. Four inches taller than her five-nine, to be precise. His hazel eyes had a powerful certainty to them. His light brown hair was stylishly messy. And then she recovered. Why had those thoughts run through her head? Why the comparison to Cam? Especially with Thad. Her first meeting with him had been nearly intolerable. He’d barked orders and snapped at her.

“I’m glad I ran into you today,” Thad said. “About when we met...”

Closing the text, she tucked her phone away and pushed off the wall. “Irritability is a symptom of the snake flu, you know.” She started walking down the hall.

“Snake flu?” He fell into step beside her.

“Swine, bird. Snake. It’s the latest strand. Haven’t you heard? It’s been in the news.”

“No.”

“Aside from irritability, infected victims get a low-grade fever that they don’t always notice, and that develops into a body rash and blisters. Vomiting. Dehydration. And then blood vessels weaken and rupture. Eventually, you bleed internally and die.”

“Sounds pleasant.”

“I treated a patient who had it. The poor man was so sick. Barking orders at everyone the whole time. He was the first fatality in North Carolina.”

“You’re joking.”

She sent him a straight face that flattened his near-grin.

Before he could question her further, they reached his mother’s room. Two Secret Service agents were posted outside the door. Not everyone was the son of a former United States vice president.

The agent closest to them gave them a nod and stepped aside so they could enter.

“I didn’t know it was your father who operated on my mother,” Thad said as they entered the room, the door swinging shut behind them.

Before tending to Kate, Lucy turned to Thad. “You think I’m kidding about the flu?”

“I don’t know what to think about something called snake flu. I’m trying to apologize.”

Seeing his humble face, with smart, sexy eyes looking right at her, a sense of humor lurking somewhere in there, she resisted the softening coming over her. “Why does it matter who my father is? Would knowing that have changed your attitude?”

His gaze traveled down her body and back up, as though he was trying to gauge her attitude. “I was worried about my mother. I’m sorry for the way I behaved.”

She folded her arms, tolerating him and trying hard not to be affected by his handsomeness and the macho part of his ego that he’d tamed in order to apologize.

“I read about him,” he continued. “Your dad. He’s a good doctor. Well respected. No wonder you’re such a good nurse.”

“I’m a good nurse because of who my father is?”

He missed her rising temper. “He must have been a great role model. Is he the reason you’re here?”

She scoffed. “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly. I’m a good nurse because I’m Dr. Sinclair’s daughter. There’s no other reason for it. How would I have gotten this job if it weren’t for my father?”

He eyed her peculiarly. “I’m detecting a note of sarcasm.”

“If you like my dad so much, why don’t you go and tell him yourself?” With that, she turned and saw Kate Winston watching them.

She had been moved from the intensive care unit yesterday and would be held in recovery for a few more days, possibly a week. She was lucky to be recovering from a gunshot wound to her abdomen. She was still weak, but alert and observant. Lucy would rather she didn’t observe her with Thad.

“You aren’t close to your father?” Thad asked.

“I’m very close to my father.” She checked her vitals and IV fluids. The oversized blue hospital gown didn’t suit such a dynamo. She had short brown hair with a hint of graying at the temples, wasn’t tall at five-five and had a petite frame. It was a miracle the bullet hadn’t killed her.

“How are you feeling today, Ms. Winston?” Lucy asked.

Her clever, light sapphire eyes turned from her son, who’d moved to the other side of the bed. “Better than I was the day I was rolled in here. Call me Kate.”

Lucy had to look at Kate again to make sure she’d heard right. The potential presidential candidate was asking her to call her by her first name?

“Lucy is a fine nurse, Thad. That has nothing to do with who her father is, although I believe I do owe him my life.” She struggled to sit up more. Lucy helped her.

“I didn’t mean to imply—” Thad started.

“Do you need anything?” Lucy asked Kate, going to the clipboard on the built-in desk to jot down some notes.

“Yes. I need my son to find a girl like you.”

Lucy turned in her surprise. “You must be feeling better,” she quipped. “I don’t think your son can handle a woman like me.”

Thad’s brow rose as they spoke as though he weren’t there.

“Au contraire, my dear. He needs someone who isn’t afraid to call him to task when he’s being politically incorrect.”

What if she was the one who was incorrect? She glanced at him standing there so comfortable in his skin while enduring what she and his mother were saying.

She did get defensive when people implied that bragging rights belonged to her father when it came to her abilities. It was the only complaint she had about her father—her whole family for that matter.

“Most women are all too eager for a chance to marry Kate Winston’s son. Little do they know he’s altar-shy.”