Liz Johnson - Navy Seal Security

He winked again, that saucy grin falling back into place. “Whatever you say.”

Her stomach swooped and tightened, and she leaned toward him, needing him to understand, to agree. “That’s a nonnegotiable. I don’t date patients. Period.”

Both of his eyebrows went up this time. “So, I’m a patient now?”

She was as surprised as he looked. When had she decided to take on his case? She hadn’t. Not consciously anyway. But...

“I suppose so. I spend most of my time at the office, and if you’re going to be around, you might as well be getting your feet back under you.”

His smile turned from playful to appreciative. “I won’t let you down.”

She wasn’t going to overanalyze whether he was referring to her situation or his healing. Either way she was stuck with him now. At least it would be on her terms. “All right. But no dates.” His Cheshire grin never wavered, and she had a sinking feeling that his flirting was going to play a prominent role in their relationship.

It was worth it.

Because maybe, just maybe, he could help her stay safe long enough to figure out who was trying to kill her.

THREE

Mandy spent the entire night before Luke’s first appointment calling herself every name in the book. She was a special kind of crazy to take him on. If she had half a brain, she would have found a way to put as much distance between them as she could.

Except she hadn’t had a choice.

And his eyes had spoken volumes across the table two nights before. He could help her. And as much as she didn’t want to need him, she did. The exact kind of professional help he could offer.

But the more she thought about having Luke around, the more she recalled the other man in her life. The one who had wormed his way into her personal life and into her home. Who had made her miserable.

Chills raced down her arms, and she hugged her knees into her chest, pushing away all thoughts of someone else being in her house.

Suddenly being alone was too much, and she threw back the covers on her bed and ran for the bathroom. Slamming and locking the door behind her, she got ready in record time. Her hair was still damp as she raced down the road to her office.

She skidded into her regular parking spot on the side of her building and ran through the nearly empty lot, past the scene of the would-have-been hit-and-run.

When she reached the glass double doors, they were already unlocked. She hesitantly ducked her head inside until Tara waved at her from behind the desk. “Morning, boss.”

“Hi, Tara.” Mandy slipped the rest of the way in, wrestling her overstuffed tote bag through behind her.

“You’re in early today.” Tara’s grin sparkled as though she knew a big secret.

Mandy covered a yawn with the back of her hand. “I didn’t get my paperwork done last night.” There. That was a very valid excuse for running away from her own home.

“Su-ure.” Tara singsonged the word as if she knew more than Mandy gave her credit for.

“And I need you to pull out an inactive file. I took on a new client.”

Tara’s eyebrows rose, her forehead wrinkling as she steepled her fingers beneath her chin. “Oh.” Again, that knowing tone. “Do tell.”

“Dunham. Luke Dunham.”

With a low cackle, Tara pulled his file from a stack on the side of her desk. “I had a feeling we hadn’t seen the last of him.”

“It wasn’t... I... Things changed.”

“Uh-huh.” Tara tapped the point of a pen against her tongue before scribbling a note on the chart. “First appointment?”

Mandy hated the guilt that tumbled within her. She still owned this practice. She was still in charge. So why hadn’t she told Tara about Luke’s appointment until today?

There wasn’t time to dig into her real reasons for it, and if she let the conversation go any further, she’d have to explain to Tara about nearly being hit by a car and someone breaking into her home. Better to keep this conversation short. “Four o’clock. Today. I’ll be in my office until my first appointment arrives.”

The rubber soles of her shoes squeaked against the laminate flooring as she kept her stride even and unhurried. She had no reason to run. At least not from Tara.

The day passed like a minute, each patient taking all of her focus, deserving all of her energy. It was after three when she finally looked up and realized she hadn’t eaten anything since the banana she’d snatched on the way out the door that morning. Her stomach growled loudly as she marked another patient’s progress in his chart.

With a quick sweep of the exercise room, she confirmed that the only other occupants, a teenage girl working on a balance ball with one of Mandy’s physical therapy assistants, hadn’t heard her body’s retaliation for not feeding it. Stretching her back and shoulders as she stood, she headed for the front office to see if there were any leftovers to be had.

“Haven’t seen you all day.” Tara didn’t even look up from the computer where she navigated complex medical-charting screens that fed to area hospitals. “I thought you were avoiding me, boss.”

“I was.” Mandy laid the sarcasm on thick, and Tara glanced up just long enough to offer a smile.

“Hungry?”

“So much. Anything good back there?” Mandy peeked down the hall toward the office kitchen. It was a tiny room with a round table big enough for only two chairs. The counters boasted only a coffeemaker, sink and a toaster oven. Even the fridge looked as if it belonged in a dorm room rather than in an office.

As Mandy slipped toward the break room, Tara scrambled out from behind her desk, the wheels on her chair clacking against the tiled floor as she ran to catch Mandy. “So are you going to tell me what happened with the SEAL?”

Mandy frowned as she eyed a half-eaten salad and a tray of veggies left on the counter. A wilted piece of roast beef squished between two slices of bread sat beside the tray, the last in what had been a plate of sandwiches. The soggy bread and warm meat looked as appetizing as congealed gravy. Someone had ordered in, and she’d missed the invitation.

Rats. Now she was going to have to face the SEAL in question on an empty stomach.

“He has a name, you know.” Mandy plopped several pieces of limp lettuce onto a plate before digging her fork into it.

Tara nodded. “I do. But if the rest of his team had any intelligence, they would have nicknamed him Adorable.”

Mandy snorted so hard, she nearly choked on her bite. Quickly swallowing the offending mouthful, she was about to respond when the bell on the front door rang, and Tara dashed to man her post.

She’d just taken another bite when Tara called down the hallway, “Mandy? You have a visitor.” Her words were stilted, hesitant, as though she didn’t really want to say them. And they turned leaves of lettuce into gravel as Mandy swallowed.

Setting the plate on the table, she tiptoed down the hallway, poking her head around the corner just as the bell above the front door jingled again.

Luke appeared at the entrance. The setting sun behind him left him in shadow, but she could still feel the weight of his gaze as he maneuvered his new crutches through the door.

“Luke.” Her voice went higher than she’d expected, and she quickly cleared her throat. “You’re early.”

“Thought I’d bring back the chair you let me borrow.”

“Thanks.”

Suddenly someone else cleared his throat. It was low and tinged with mild annoyance, as if he’d been put out by her short exchange with Luke. Mandy didn’t really need to look at him to identify the visitor Tara had announced.

He was tall and broad, his dark hair still falling over his forehead, no matter how many times he pushed it out of the way. His smile still ticked up to one side, but where it had once been charming, now it was smarmy, turning her skin to gooseflesh at first glance. His eyes were deep brown, but they lacked any compassion or understanding of the part he’d played in her greatest regret. And now they shot from Mandy to Luke and back, filled with questions.