Protecting the Pregnant Princess. Lisa Childs

reminded the guard. “He can’t share what he saw with anyone without risking a lawsuit from Serenity House. Shooting at him was totally unnecessary.”

      “I still need to talk to him.”

      “You will only make the situation worse,” she said. “If he does go to the authorities, I will be informed.”

      So she had a contact within the sheriff’s office.

      “Will you have enough warning for us to get her to a more secure location?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “You were paid handsomely to keep this location secure,” the man said, his already gruff voice low with fury. “And since you have failed, I will handle this, and him, in my own way.”

      The guard wasn’t going away. Instead of punching keys in the computer, Aaron needed to figure a way out of Serenity House—first for him and then for the patient in Room 00.

      Room 00. He typed it in and the screen changed, an hourglass displaying while the computer pulled up records. He was almost in…

      “What the hell are you doing?” the woman demanded to know as she slammed open the office door with such force it bounced off the wall and nearly struck her.

      Aaron hit the exit key as he leaned across the keyboard, reaching for the box of tissues. He pulled one out and pressed it to his head. “I’m bleeding. That crazy son of a bitch was shooting at me.”

      He glanced behind her but the man was gone. Somehow she’d gotten rid of the goon—apparently with just a look as he’d overheard no words of dismissal. Maybe Aaron would have been in less danger if he’d gone with the guard because there was something kind of eerie about this steely-eyed woman.

      “Yes, that was bad judgment on his part,” she said, sounding nearly unconcerned about the shots now. “But maybe it wasn’t uncalled for.”

      “Dr. Platt, I’ve done nothing to warrant an execution.” He edged around her desk, toward the door. She blocked it, but as a trained bodyguard, he could easily overpower her—physically. Mentally, he didn’t trust her—given the doctorate of psychology degree on her wall and her overall soulless demeanor.

      “You entered a room that every employee,” she said, “newly hired and long-term—has been warned is strictly off-limits.”

      He hadn’t actually attended an orientation. But the guard posted at her door had certainly implied Room 00 was off-limits. “I thought I heard a yell for help. I was concerned—”

      “Then you should have summoned the guard or the nurse who are authorized to enter that room. That is protocol,” she stated, her voice cold with an icy anger. “By going inside yourself, you violated protocol.”

      “I wasn’t thinking,” he said. “I just reacted.”

      “You reacted incorrectly,” she said. “And because of that, you can no longer be on staff at Serenity House.” She held out her hand.

      He moved to shake it, but she lifted her hand and ripped the ID badge from the lanyard around his neck. “You’re fired, Mr. Ottenwess,” she said, addressing him by the name on that ID badge.

      “I would appreciate another chance,” he said. “Now that I’m fully aware of the rules, I promise not to violate them again.”

      She shook her head. “That’s a risk I can’t take. And frankly, Mr. Ottenwess, staying here is a risk you can’t take. I talked the private security guard out of interrogating you. But if he sees you again, I’m not sure what he might do to you.”

      Shoot at him again. And maybe the next time he wouldn’t miss. The only thing that had nicked Aaron’s cheek had been a shard of a porcelain vase that the guard had shot instead of him.

      The burly guy had disappeared, but Aaron suspected he hadn’t gone far. How could he get past him again to access Room 00?

      “That’s why I’m having my own guards escort you off the premises.” As silently as she’d dismissed the private guard, she must have summoned her own because two men stood in the doorway.

      “This isn’t necessary,” Aaron said. “I can show myself out.”

      “Actually you can’t,” she reminded him, “without your badge you can’t open any of the facility doors—not to patients’ rooms and not to exits. They will show you out.” She barely lifted an ash-blond brow, but she had the two men rushing forward. Each guy grabbed one of his arms and dragged him from her office.

      Aaron could have fought them off. They weren’t armed. But he didn’t want to beat them. He wanted to outsmart them. Or he had no hope of helping the woman in Room 00.

      JANE HAD JUST resigned herself to the fact that the man, that the voice in the hall had addressed as Timmer, wasn’t coming back…when the lock clicked and the door opened. She fought to keep her eyes closed and her breathing even, feigning sleep as she had when he’d entered the first time. Or at least the first time that she remembered.

      “Is she really out?” the gruff-voiced guard asked someone.

      Soft hands touched her face and gently forced open one of Jane’s eyes. She stared up at the gray-haired nurse who dropped her lid and stepped back before replying, “She’s unconscious.”

      “Did he hurt her?” Mr. Centerenian demanded to know.

      “Who?” the nurse asked, her voice squeaking with anxiety. Over Jane or over lying to the guard?

      “Someone was in her room,” the man explained.

      “He wouldn’t have been able to talk her,” Nurse Sandy easily lied again. She obviously hadn’t been anxious about lying to him. “I gave her a sedative earlier, like you requested. She’s completely out and oblivious to her surroundings.”

      Jane fought to keep her lips from twitching in reaction to the nurse’s blatant lie. Wouldn’t the guard remember that the nurse had given her no medication?

      If only this woman had access to a door-opening name badge, Sandy could prove an even more valuable ally because Jane suspected she would help her escape if she could.

      Of course the other man—Timmer—had promised he would return. Could he? Was he physically able to return?

      “Good,” the guard grunted. “And he won’t get another chance to talk to her.”

      She held in a gasp as fear clutched her heart. Had one of those shots struck the man?

      “Why—why won’t he?” the nurse nervously asked the question burning in Jane’s mind.

      The guard did not answer, just issued another order. “Leave now.”

      “But—but I should stay to monitor her—”

      “Leave now,” Mr. Centerenian repeated.

      The lock clicked again and the door opened with a creak of hinges and rush of cool air from the hall. It closed again, shutting in the stale air that smelled faintly of the cigarette smoke that always clung to the guard.

      Had Mr. Centerenian left with Nurse Sandy? Was Jane alone again?

      She nearly opened her eyes but then the guard spoke again. Since the older woman had left, he wasn’t talking to the nurse.

      Jane peered through a slit in one lid and saw that his cell phone was pressed to his ear. He spoke in a language she couldn’t place but somehow understood. She interpreted his side of the conversation.

      “There is a problem,” he said. “Someone got inside her room tonight. He saw her…”

      Mr. Centerenian grunted in response to whatever the person he called told him and then agreed, “Yes, it is no longer safe to keep her here. I will bring her and your unborn child to the airport tomorrow night to meet your private plane.”

      Who