Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

prevented that rat from laying a single finger on her. Anything to have her be her usual high-energy self. This shell of the woman he knew as strong and invincible frightened him.

She’s safe. Focus on keeping her that way.

“Perhaps your work is none of your father’s concern, and that’s an argument you can take up with him, but you can’t tell me you’re not grateful that I showed up when I did.” Maybe verbal sparring would bring her back from the scare.

She remained silent and he inwardly cursed. Dominique had survived a brutal attack only minutes before, and while he’d argue with her later about his “right” to protect her, he definitely had no business goading her while she was in such a vulnerable state.

Problem was, Dominique didn’t do “vulnerable.” She was as far from that as any woman he’d ever met, including trained agents.

“You taught me well.” Her admission startled him.

“What’s that?”

“When you insisted I learn hand-to-hand techniques and defensive maneuvers. All the stuff you taught me? They paid off.” He saw her reach for her throat, rub it, in his peripheral vision. “It’s true, what you said over and over again. I’d automatically do what I had to, if the time ever came, and it did. I was almost free of him but he was awfully big. I couldn’t get his arms to budge once he had a grip.”

“I’m glad to hear the training helped. You handled yourself incredibly well, Dominique.” His heart had constricted, then pumped with fear, rage and purpose when he saw the thug grab her. He’d been so afraid he wouldn’t reach her in time... “Did you hear me shout?”

“I did, but I didn’t know it was you. Not at first.” Or had she, but she just didn’t want to tell him?

“It wouldn’t have mattered, as by the time I saw him it was already too late. He came out of nowhere.” Stanton hated that he hadn’t seen him sooner.

“I feel stupid that I didn’t hear or notice him in that alley. I was paying attention to the street.”

“I’m sure you were. Don’t beat yourself up over this.” His choice of words hit him and he grimaced. “I mean—”

“It’s okay.” She let out a hollow laugh. “I understand what you’re saying. I think it’ll take me some time to process, is all.”

He nodded. “It always does.” He turned off the main drag onto a wide boulevard.

“You sure would know. You’ve been beat up enough times.” Dominique’s voice held memories that he’d fought so hard to keep behind the mental wall that he never broached. Where their time as a couple resided. How she’d nursed him after an overzealous fan had tried to grab his client, or the time she’d made love to him after work when he thought the agency was taking an economic hit. He needed to stop reviewing the many times they’d made love, but it was difficult to keep the memories at bay when she was right next to him.

“Where are we going? I’m not going to the hospital, Stanton.” She looked out the windshield, consternation on her face. He silently thanked heaven that she hadn’t noticed their destination until now.

“You’re getting checked over.” He pulled up to the emergency room entrance of the main city hospital.

“I don’t need the ER. I’m fine, really. I didn’t lose consciousness, and I can walk. If I’m hurting tomorrow, I’ll call my doctor.”

“Save it. A thug with hands bigger than my head just tried to squeeze the life out of you. And there’s already bruising on your neck.” He swallowed. That jerk had come too close to doing permanent, life-taking damage.

She slumped against the seat. “Fine. But you’re getting me an oat milk latte after this.”

The reminder of her favorite comfort drink should have put his defenses up, reminded him to stay emotionally detached as he protected her. Instead, a tiny sphere of warmth lit, deep inside.

Too close to his heart.

* * *

“Here you go.” Stanton set the covered paper cup in front of her and she immediately wrapped her hands around it, craving the warmth. After a relatively quick ER visit, he’d made good on her demand and they’d slipped into her favorite café. It was pretty hopping for a midweek morning. She’d noticed a man at the counter, who’d looked at her with unguarded interest when they’d entered, and her first reaction had been to turn and run until she realized why he was staring. She knew she was a sight, had seen her ghastly reflection in the hospital restroom. But she’d settled for simply splashing water on her face and running a hand through her long hair. It required too much effort to fully put herself back together. Thankfully none of the other customers paid her a second glance.

“Thanks for this.” She kept her gaze downcast, giving herself imaginary space between her defenses and Stanton’s overwhelming presence. It hadn’t changed, two years later. At least, not for her. The constant sexual tension still arced between them as if she’d never walked away from him.

“I learned long ago to take your threats seriously. Heaven forbid you don’t get a latte when you want it.” He took a sip of his green tea, which appeared to be scalding hot as steam rose from the open cup. She knew he preferred to sip his beverages without the plastic cover. Funny, the things she remembered.

“Are you satisfied with what the doctor said?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” The trauma surgeon had been called in to look at her throat X-rays and do a physical exam. She’d told Dominique that she’d heal in time and there was no lasting damage. “The ER doc seemed to know her stuff.”

“Some bruises don’t show up on X-rays. They can take days, weeks to surface.” His mouth was a grim line that underscored his concern.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about something other than today’s injuries?” She glared at him, or rather, tried to muster the energy to give him