Undercover Protector. Melinda Di Lorenzo

run. Going out that way was the straightest shot to freedom. It meant going past the information and intake desk, but it was still the quickest route out. Would Nadine be most interested in speed, or would she try to do something trickier? If he had to guess, he’d say she was the kind of woman who’d go for clever. Of course, she’d also probably assume that Anderson wouldn’t be far behind. He weighed the options, then eyed the door and made his decision.

      “Lobby it is,” he said, his voice echoing through the stairwell.

      He pushed through and found the wide space almost empty. The only person in sight was a solitary woman sitting behind the desk with her nose buried in a book, and she didn’t even glance up as Anderson walked straight up to her. He fought a need to grit his teeth at the lack of security and told himself that a care facility like this one wasn’t supposed to be under lock and key. It was the reason his own presence was a necessity. Still, he would’ve felt a little better if he thought that Nadine had met with a bit of a challenge.

      He cleared his throat and fixed a polite smile onto his face. “Excuse me?”

      The woman lifted her eyes and aimed a bored stare his way. “Yes?”

      “Sorry for the interruption, but did you happen to see a blonde woman come by in the last minute or two?”

      “People come and go all the time.”

      “This one would’ve been in pajamas.”

      “Pajamas?”

      “With a sheep theme.”

      “Are we talking about a patient?”

      Anderson pressed his lips together for a moment before answering. Sounding the alarm about a patient on the run seemed a bit over the top. He somehow doubted it would help Nadine want him around, too.

      “Just a woman with a strong love of casual wear,” he said.

      “And casual wear is now sheep-themed pajamas?” The woman lifted a dubious eyebrow.

      “Guess it is.”

      “Then, no.”

      “No?”

      “I haven’t seen a blonde woman in casual wear come by in the last one or two minutes.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “Every person who comes in or out has to walk right past me.”

      “True enough. Thanks anyway.”

      Fighting a need to curse, he turned back toward the stairs and stopped. From where he stood, he could hardly see the first set of elevator doors. He was standing up. If he’d been sitting down like the woman behind the desk, he doubted he’d be able to see them at all. It’d be easy enough to exit the elevator and veer to the right instead of the left.

      “What’s at the other end of the hall?” he asked.

      The woman let out a sigh. “What?”

      Anderson pointed. “If I went down there instead of past you.”

      “Staff lounge.”

      “Any way to get out?”

      “Are you sure this isn’t about a patient?”

      “Yes,” he lied.

      She sighed again. “There’s an exit. But in order to get to the exit, you need to get into the staff lounge. And in order to get into the staff lounge, you need a passkey. So unless your friend in the pajamas is a staff member, she couldn’t have gone that way.”

      Anderson forced another smile. “Thanks again.”

      His cop’s gut was rearing its head, telling him that Nadine would’ve found a way. He didn’t waste time questioning his instincts. Moving quickly, he took long, decisive steps across the linoleum. In seconds, he reached a door clearly labeled with a Staff Lounge sign. There he stopped and studied the locking mechanism. It was a simple, magnetic swipe system. With a quick glance around, he yanked his wallet from his pocket and chose a card at random, then jammed it into the slot. The light above the handle flickered but stayed red. He yanked his card free and threw the door a glare.

      “Card get demagnetized?” said a voice from over his shoulder.

      Anderson turned and nodded at the man who’d appeared behind him. “Guess so.”

      The man smiled. “Happens to me about twice a week. Gotta love overpriced technology that only works a quarter of the time. Here, I’ll let you in with mine.”

      “Thanks.”

      A heartbeat later, he was standing inside the supposedly secure staff lounge, his eyes on the glass door at the rear of the room. Through it, he could see just what he needed to.

      Nadine Stuart.

      She was planted on the edge of the sidewalk in the taxi zone, her head down, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Anderson walked toward the door, watching as she hung up, stuck the phone into her bag, then fixed her eyes straight ahead. When she started to cross the narrow strip of pavement in front of her—presumably toward the bench she had in her sights—a navy-colored car on the same side of the road started to move, too. First at a crawl. Then a little faster.

      Worry hit Anderson like a truck.

      He threw himself against the door, slamming it open so hard that he half expected it to shatter or at least crack. He didn’t stop to check if it did. He dived forward. He wrapped his arms around Nadine’s waist. And he pulled her out of sight and out of harm’s way a heartbeat before the navy car screeched through the spot where she’d just been standing.

       Chapter 2

      Nadine’s chest compressed and the air blew out of her lungs as her body flattened between Anderson’s solid form and the concrete pillar behind her. Vaguely she was aware that just ahead on the other side of the bushes where they now stood, a car had first careened to a halt, then peeled out. But, mostly, the man pinning her to the spot took her attention.

      His arms were firm around her waist, his hands warm on her hips. If she’d been able to breathe, she might’ve demanded to know what he thought he was doing. As it was, all she could do was work to draw in a gasp of air as she glared up at him. His ocean-blue eyes stared back, no apology for the intrusion touching them. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed before how intense and stormy his irises were. She felt like she was being sucked in. Drowning. But maybe in a good way. If that was even possible.

      After what felt like a lifetime but what really couldn’t have been more than few seconds, he finally released his hold on her. Physically, anyway. His gaze still held her.

      “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demanded gruffly.

      She sucked in a trickle of oxygen, then managed to exhale a single-word reply. “No.”

      “Could’ve fooled me.”

      She tried again. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Speak.

      “How do you figure?” It was better, if only slightly.

      “You snuck out of the hospital and—”

      “Care center.”

      “What?”

      “It’s technically not a hospital.”

      “So?”

      “So if you’re going to throw around accusations, you should get your facts straight first.”

      “Are you helping me argue?”

      “Someone has to. Clearly.”

      His mouth twitched just a little. “Okay. You snuck out of the care facility and—”

      “Sneaked,” she corrected.

      “Really?”