On a good day, she was a six out of ten. Romeo? He was a straight-up twelve.
In fact, when he first came into the emergency room, there’d been a lady in a wide-brim panama hat walking out. One look at Romeo and she’d turned to whisper to her friend, “Ooh-la-la. Nowthattall drink of water wasn’t made in Key West.”
“Glad we’re at the hospital,” had been the friend’s reply. “Because he’s stealing my breath away. I might need CPR.”
Romeo had been oblivious to the exchange. Or maybe he was so used to that type of attention, their conversation hadn’t registered. But Mia had heard. And she’d agreed with every word.
Romeo was a bona fide lady-killer, with deep dimples, a loose-hipped swagger, and a face so perfectly symmetrical it belonged on the silver screen.
“I was wondering how you can sit so still for so long,” she told him since she couldn’t very well admit what she’d been thinking about was what it would feel like to have his wide, firm lips pressed tight against her own. “We’ve been here almost two hours and I don’t think I’ve seen you move except when you got up to go get a coffee.”
He’d offered to grab her a cup, but she’d waved him off, not wanting to add caffeine to her already jittery nervous system.
“You learn patience as a Navy SEAL.” His tone was calm, casual. It was a minor balm to her nerves. “Contrary to what people are led to believe, spec ops involves a whole lot of sitting around waiting for stuff to happen. Being part of the Teams is like hanging out at the DMV twenty-four hours a day, seven days week. Except occasionally you get to blow shit up or someone tries to kill you.”
She glanced at the far wall where Wolf was doing his level best to carve a rut into the tile floor with his pacing. “Apparently that lesson didn’t sink in for him.” She hitched her chin toward Wolf.
Romeo tracked his friend’s path from one end of the room to the other. “I think pretty much every life lesson you learn gets thrown out the window when the woman you…” He hesitated and finally finished with, “care about gets shot.”
Mia thought about the times she’d caught Chrissy gazing longingly at Wolf, and the times she’d seen Wolf watching Chrissy with a hot, hungry look in his eyes.
“No one knows what happened between them?” She squeezed her knee in an effort to stop its agitation.
Romeo shook his head. “As myabuelaused to say, ‘stubborn as stone.’ The both of them.”
Talk of grandmothers made Mia think of her own. Her hand automatically lifted to fiddle with the diamond stud in her ear.
The move drew Romeo’s eyes to the glint of the hard gem. He gently pinched her earlobe to get a better look, and a soft whistle sounded through his teeth. “These would get you snatched off the streets in East L.A.”
Other than an introductory handshake, and the times they’d inadvertently brushed by each other in the beach house, they’d never actuallytouched.
Mia supposed now she should be grateful for that. Because the moment his callused fingertips kissed her bare skin, a jolt of awareness shot through her system. In its wake, an eruption of goose bumps that covered her entire body.
She wasn’t aware her jaw had unhinged until Romeo said in a deep, dark voice, “Careful. You’ll get flies in there.” He hooked a finger under her chin to close her mouth. There was a knowing look in his eye.
Well, ofcoursethere was. Could shebeany more obvious?
Jeez, Mia. Get a grip.
Firming her shoulders, she managed to stutter, “Th-the earrings were a g-gift from my grandmother.”
His grin revealed a set of straight, white teeth that contrasted starkly with the black hair of his goatee. “And here I thought grandmothers only gave gifts ofchile rellenosandtres leches.” He pronounced the dishes with a Spanish accent and the sounds swirled inside her ears like a tongue.
She heaved a sigh of relief when his attention was snagged by a guy wearing jeans and a sport coat who walked into the waiting room. Upon closer inspection, she saw what’d caught Romeo’s eye. It was the police badge clipped to the newcomer’s belt.
Before she had time to speculate about the officer’s arrival, the doctor who’d initially come out to tell them Chrissy would need to be put under general anesthesia to flush out the wound and clean it properly pushed through a set of swinging doors. Dressed in scrubs, and with the quick, hurried movement everyone in her field adopted, the doctor ripped off her surgical mask as she glanced around the room.
Mia and Romeo jumped from their seats at the same time Wolf spotted the woman and raced over to her.
“Chrissy?” There was so much anguish in Wolf’s voice, Mia felt it in her own heart.
“The bullet missed Miss Szarek’s collarbone and most of the muscle,” the doctor said. Her intelligent eyes matched the blue of her scrubs. “Which is good. Soft tissue damage is easier to fix than a shattered bone. In fact, when it comes to a GSW, she’s incredibly lucky. We probably could’ve stitched her up using a local. But I wanted to make sure none of her shirt got stuck inside the trauma site since that can lead to infection. Anyway, once we put her under, we were able to get everything cleaned up. And I’m a perfectionist, so that’s what took so long back there.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the bowels of the hospital. “She’s coming around from the sedation now, and I’d say—”
“Does that mean she’s ready to answer some questions?” The police officer had joined the group.
“And you are?” the doctor asked with an arch look.
“Bill Dixon.” The man shot out a wide-palmed hand. “DetectiveDixon.”
