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  Bella cut through the kitchen and raced into the entry hall just as Devon was opening the front door.

  “Out!” she shouted. “Go back out!”

  Devon dived for her.

  They hit the floor.

  Two shots exploded in the entry hall, echoing like thunder.

  Bella’s head was spinning again. The room tilted.

  Another shot fired. This one shattered the glass in the door.

  Devon scrambled to his feet and charged Mariah.

  Bella scrambled onto all fours. She launched herself up and rushed to where Mariah and Devon struggled.

  Mariah still had the weapon. Devon forced her hand and the .32 away from his head. The weapon fired.

  Bella jerked at the sound as the bullet plowed into the plaster wall.

  Traynor and McAllister barged into the room.

  The next pull of the trigger was followed by a hollow sound. Mariah had fired her final round.

  Traynor snatched the weapon from her hand and Devon got to his feet. McAllister subdued her with a pair of nylon cuffs. Despite knowing she’d lost and that her game was over, she ranted and railed about getting Devon one way or the other.

  Bella leaned against the wall. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt so tired.

  “Are you all right?” Devon surveyed her as if terrified that she was gravely injured.

  Bella managed a smile. “I’ll live. She hit me in the head with something and then drugged me with morphine.” She met his gaze. “She’s dying. Lung cancer.”

  Mariah had lapsed into sobs. Sirens were blaring outside.

  Devon demanded, “Let me have a look at you.”

  While the police came in and removed Mariah Sutter, Devon examined the back of Bella’s head and checked her eyes and reflexes.

  “I’m taking you to the Edge,” he said when he’d finished. “I want a full workup. A traumatic brain injury is nothing to scoff at.”

  “I’m fine, really,” she argued. There was no need to make a fuss.

  Devon disregarded everything she said. He answered a few questions for the officer as Mariah was escorted out. He promised that he and Bella would come in tomorrow and make official statements.

  “Go,” Traynor said when Devon looked to him. “McAllister and I will take care of things here.”

  “This really isn’t necessary,” Bella tried again.

  “Listen to the doc,” Traynor ordered.

  McAllister folded his beefy arms over his chest. “Don’t make one of us have to carry you out of here.”

  Bella rolled her eyes and relented. “Fine.” She turned to Devon. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The Edge, 10:00 p.m.

  DR. FRASIER STUDIED the monitor. Devon stared over her shoulder.

  Bella exhaled a big breath, hoping they would hear it and realize she was waiting. When they both continued to stare at the monitor and talk quietly to one another, she said, “Well?”

  “The concussion is mild,” Dr. Frasier said as she turned to Bella. “You’ll need someone seeing after you for a few days. If you have a headache that gets worse or any weakness, numbness or—”

  “I’ll be taking care of her,” Devon interrupted. “I know the warning signs to watch for.” To Bella, he said, “It’s important that you’re not alone. No driving or overexertion for at least forty-eight hours.”

  Bella hugged her arms around herself and the unflattering hospital gown she’d had to change into for the MRI. “Yay me.”

  Dr. Frasier smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. Most of the time, symptoms don’t linger for more than a few days. I’ll write your discharge order.” She left the room.

  “We could take a vacation.”

  Bella looked up at him. “A vacation?” She held her breath. Where was he going with that?

  He leaned against the table next to her, tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear with one long finger. “The business part of our relationship is over now.”

  “I still have to do my final report,” she argued.

  “I’m certain Victoria would understand if your report was delayed.”

  Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding. She needed to think. To reason this all out. “But you have so much to do here. How can they possibly run this place without you?”

  He traced the swell of her cheek. “I have complete confidence in my staff, and the truth is, I’ve recently realized that I need more than work.”

  “What is it you want to do, Dr. Pierce?”

  She didn’t want to read too much into this. Stressful situations—life-and-death ones in particular—often made people reach out to one another. Then, when the stressor had passed, those passions faded. She had no desire to make more of this than it was.

  “I want to be with you,” he said bluntly. “I want to know you—all of you. I want to begin right now. This minute.”

  She smiled as his lips brushed hers. “But we’re in the ER.”

  He straightened, backed away from her. All the way to the door. He locked it.

  Her heart skipped a beat. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to overexert myself or something like that.”

  He walked the few feet back to where she sat on the exam table. Just watching him move made her pulse react. “You don’t have to do anything but enjoy. Besides, I’m a doctor. I can take care of any situation that arises. Trust me.”

  He spread her legs and moved between them. “Aren’t there rules against this behavior with a patient?” she teased.

  He kissed that sensitive skin beneath her ear. “You’re not my patient.”

  She shivered with the feel of his breath against the damp skin.

  “I want to take you away from here.” He left a kiss along her jawline between each word. “Make love to you every day and every night for as long as you’re willing.”

  His lips brushed her collarbone and she shook with pleasure. “As soon as I’m well enough,” she countered.

  He drew back. Studied her flushed face. “Of course.” His hand worked its way beneath her gown and up to her bare breast. He squeezed. “How are you feeling now?”

  She whimpered. “Good.”

  He moved on to the other breast and massaged her nipple between his fingers. Pleasure shot through her.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Oh yes.”

  His hand slid down her rib cage, fingers reaching between her thighs, finding that damp heat that yearned for his touch. He pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered all the ways he intended to make her come as his fingers worked their magic. His free arm went around her waist, held her steady as he brought her closer and closer to orgasm. Then he gripped her tight and finished sending her over the edge.

  She bit her lips together to prevent crying out with the pleasure that pulsed through her. Blindly, she reached for his fly, but he gently pushed her hands away. “Later,” he murmured. “This was just a taste of all the ways I’m going to make you come apart in my arms.”

  She grinned. “You know what they say about payback.”

  “I look forward to it.” He reached for the bag at the end of the table. “Now let’s get you dressed so I can take you out of here.”

  He helped her dress. They laughed when she swayed and kissed when they couldn’t bear not to. It felt good. It felt right.

  “I’m suddenly starving,” she said as he slipped her shoes on her feet.

  “I know a place not far from here that stays open until midnight. You good with Italian?”

  “I love Italian.”

  When he held her hand as they walked out of the room, Bella’s chest filled to bursting. It wasn’t the let-me-help-you kind of touch. It was the I-want-to-hold-your-hand touch.

  They spoke to the nurses and to Dr. Frasier as they left. It was as if he wanted them all to see that they
were together. She liked that he didn’t try to hide what he was feeling.

  Outside, they walked slowly in the cool night air to his car. He’d had a driver pick up the one he’d borrowed, fill the gas tank and return it to Dr. Frasier. Traynor had told her that even before he and McAllister left the Lake Bluff house someone had been there, making the needed repairs after Mariah’s shooting spree.

  Devon opened her door and helped her into the car. By the time she fastened her seat belt, he was sliding behind the wheel.

  “Where are we going on this vacation?” she asked, though she didn’t really care. She would gladly go anywhere with him.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  She thought about that for a moment, then turned his question on him. “Where would you like to go?”

  He backed out of the slot and paused to look at her. “Anywhere, as long as you’re there.”

  She laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Edge, Sunday, June 10, 2:00 p.m.

  “You have a second-degree burn, Mr. Camp,” Dr. Frasier announced.

  Victoria sent Lucas a pointed look. “Told you so.”

  Lucas sighed, his expression downtrodden. “Yes, you did. What’s the plan, Dr. Frasier?”

  Dr. Frasier smiled. “It’s not that bad, Mr. Camp. I’m sure you know that with a second-degree burn the damage extends a little deeper than the top layer of skin. The area is already red and sensitive but you will most likely see blistering as well. How did you say you burned yourself?”

  “The barbecue grill,” he confessed. “It’s a biweekly ritual during the summer.”

  Victoria squeezed her dear husband’s uninjured hand. “Only this time, someone wasn’t paying attention.”

  As Lucas and Dr. Frasier chatted about the steps that would be taken, which weren’t so bad—cleaning and applying an antibiotic and then bandaging—Victoria thought of how frightened she had been when she’d watched him reach for the veggie basket without the protection of an oven mitt. At their age, it wasn’t unusual on occasion to forget where you left the keys or to forget what you walked into a room to look for, but to forget to protect your hand when you reached for a hot item and then to hang on to it until you moved it to the counter was outside the boundaries of acceptable. She would be watching her dear husband closely going forward.

  Her heart ached at even the mere thought of what this could mean.

  Victoria pushed away the painful idea. “I understand Devon and Bella made it safely to Saint-Tropez.”

  Frasier smiled. “They did.”

  Lucas gave her a wink. “I hear you’re in charge while he’s gone.”

  She laughed. “I am. Dr. Pierce hasn’t designated a deputy administrator, so I’m it for now. Well, with Ms. Ezell’s support, of course. She runs that office anyway.”

  Victoria knew well that there was nothing more valuable than a top-notch secretary or personal assistant. “I’m certain you’ll do fine.”

  “Thank you.” The doctor gave Lucas a pat on the shoulder. “Mr. Camp, I’ll have Nurse Bowman come in and take care of you. Just keep the injured area clean. Apply an antibiotic cream once a day and keep it bandaged for a few days and you’ll be as good as new before you know it.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Frasier.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they were headed home. The white bandage was stark against her husband’s tanned hand.

  “Lucas, I’m worried about you.”

  He turned to her, watched her for a while. Victoria kept her gaze on the street and traffic.

  “In what way, my dear? The burn isn’t so bad.”

  He wasn’t going to like this very much. “You picked up the pan without an oven mitt and you held it for several seconds—long enough to move it—before you let go.”

  “Not such a smart move,” he agreed. “I wasn’t thinking.” He reached over and patted her hand with his good one. “I assure you it was nothing more. Just an absentminded moment that I will regret for at least a week or so.”

  She hoped that was the case. “You haven’t had any other similar moments that you haven’t told me about, have you?”

  “I certainly have not.”

  Victoria felt some amount of relief at hearing him say so. Still, her heart ached with worry.

  “Do you want the truth?” he asked.

  She glanced at her husband. “I not only want it, I expect it!” What sort of question was that?

  “We have a rather important anniversary coming up.”

  Twenty years. Victoria’s smile was automatic. She and Lucas had been married for almost twenty years.

  “I’ve been planning this very special getaway. I was actually considering Saint-Tropez. I thought I would ask Bella when she returns if it was as wonderful as the rumors suggest. At any rate, I’m found out now.”

  “Lucas, that sounds lovely.” She reached over and placed a hand on his leg. “I’d love to go to Saint-Tropez.”

  “You’re always arranging things for others, Victoria,” he said. “I wanted to do this for you—for us. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  She reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “It’s a lovely surprise. I’m so pleased.”

  “I was only distracted and not paying attention.” He squeezed her fingers. “I will tell you if I ever feel there’s something not quite right about any part of me.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “It is.”

  “Good.” She exhaled a big breath. “I won’t worry anymore, then.”

  This was, of course, not entirely true, but she would try.

  “While you were taking care of the paperwork, Eva Bowman told me a troubling story about Dr. Frasier.”

  Victoria took the next turn. “So you were gossiping with your nurse,” she teased.

  “I certainly was. Eva is worried about Dr. Frasier. Apparently her former husband has given her trouble from time to time. He’s just out of prison after a one-year stretch for felony domestic violence.”

  “Was Dr. Frasier the victim?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Has she seen someone about a restraining order?” Not that a mere restraining order would stop the determined. But it made things simpler when the police were called.

  “She has not. Eva said she’d already urged Dr. Frasier to take that step. She also gave her our number and suggested she consider calling us.”

  “I hope she will.”

  “I think I’ll have Jamie do some research,” Lucas said. “Find out who this guy is and where he is.”

  “Excellent idea. If Dr. Frasier needs us, we’ll be prepared.”

  “Speaking of Jamie,” Lucas said, “did you know she has a new boyfriend?”

  “Did she tell you this?” Victoria sent him a sideways glance. She was utterly envious that he’d heard this news before she had.

  “I saw it on one of her social-media pages.”

  Victoria frowned. “Are you monitoring our granddaughter’s accounts again?”

  “I’m one of her newest friends, Lucky Luke.”

  Victoria laughed. “Lucky Luke?”

  “Why not? I’m the luckiest man alive because you’re my wife.”

  Victoria braked for a light and turned to him. “You are so charming, Lucas. We’re both very lucky.” She grinned. “What does this young man look like?”

  The light changed and she rolled forward with the flow of traffic.

  “Tall and handsome, of course. He’s a senior at the University of Chicago.”

  “Have you looked into him and his family?”

  “The boy’s pedigree is noteworthy. I’m sure you will approve.”

  Victoria sighed. “Time is traveling far too fast, Lucas.”

  “It is.”
He squeezed her hand once more. “We’ve seen and done so much, been through so much. But, good God, what a ride.”

  This was true. Victoria smiled. So very true.

  * * * * *

  Don’t miss the next installment of the

  COLBY AGENCY: SEXI-ER coming next month!

  Look for BODY OF EVIDENCE

  from Debra Webb and Harlequin Intrigue.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from STRANDED WITH THE DETECTIVE by Lena Diaz.

  Stranded with the Detective

  by Lena Diaz

  Chapter One

  Piper leaned around the edge of the tent that enclosed the temporary stables and curled her fingers around her pocketknife. Ahead and to the left, two more enormous tents partially concealed the winter-brown field that formed the fair’s makeshift parking lot. And, of course, the truck and horse trailer that she specifically wanted to see were in the part of the lot that she couldn’t see. Was Palmer still trying to figure out what she’d done to his truck? Or had he fixed it as soon as he’d popped the hood? Maybe she should sneak back to see whether her diversion was working.

  No. Too risky. If he saw her, that would ruin everything. She needed to trust her plan, give it one more minute to make sure he didn’t come right back. Then she could duck inside and take what was rightfully hers.

  The area in front of the stables was mostly empty except for a few stragglers by the food trucks. Most of the people were in the bleachers a hundred yards away, erected for the weeklong event on the outskirts of a little town called Destiny, Tennessee.

  Its entire population could have fitted several times over inside Rolex Stadium at the Kentucky Horse Park back home. Tucked into the foothills of the Smoky Mountains, Destiny was smack-dab in the middle of Blount County. She supposed the central location made it the perfect spot for the fair because it would draw people from all over the state.

  The distant rumble of engines signaled the beginning of the smash-’em-up derby, the main event. The audience was probably freezing as they huddled together, watching fools crunch cars into each other while speeding around a dirt track. Bumper cars for adults. Not Piper’s idea of fun, especially early in the morning, in forty-degree weather.