Page 89 of Armed ’N’ Ready

The question was meant more for herself, but Tess answered just the same. “Because he cares about you. He really cares about you.”

“I-I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Still in a daze, she ended the call and put her phone back in her bag.

Had he done it out of guilt? Or sympathy?

Maybe. In her heart, she dared to hope there was another reason, and at that moment his words yesterday in the woods came back to her. I love you. And the stark pain she’d glimpsed in his eyes. A man like him didn’t throw those three words around lightly.

“Oh no.” She reached out to steady herself, resting her hand on the table. Everything that had passed between them flitted before her eyes.

Nick confronting his awful past to bail her out of a major jam when her musician hadn’t shown.

Nick saving her life, then guarding her with his.

Nick kissing her and making love to her as no man ever had.

Now he’d paid all her debts. That hadn’t been a requirement of his job, or his duty, or something necessary to further his investigation. Not for the first time, he’d done something for her just because he loved her. And I was too blind to see it.

She’d judged him by all her failures with the men in her life. Not that he hadn’t given her a reason to doubt the truth of his words. “I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake.”

“What mistake?” Joe asked.

They turned as the conference room door opened, and she hoped it was Nick.

It wasn’t.

Andi gasped. “Meera.”

“What are you doing here?” Joe shouted.

Without answering, Meera shut the door, locking it behind her.

Andi tensed. Something was very, very wrong.

Nick had assured her that Meera was being guarded by a deputy U.S. marshal, and that Meera’s and Joe’s paths would never cross.

What was she doing there, unguarded?

Meera dug into the purse hanging over her shoulder and pulled out a gun. “I’m here to clean up this mess,” she answered in a thick Scottish brogue.

Andi jerked back, bumping into the window ledge.

“Oh, shit.” Joe moved in front of her, shielding her with his body.

“Where’s the laptop?” Meera glanced at Andi’s small purse, then at the floor on either side of the table. “Where is it?” Her voice was low and controlled, yet there was no mistaking the deadly intent in her eyes.

Andi stared, unable to take her eyes off the barrel of the gun. Odd, but Meera was pointing a gun at them, and all she could think was that the woman really was Scottish.

“Where’s the fucking laptop?” With Meera’s accent, the word “fucking” sounded more like “fooking.” She raised the gun, again pointing it at them.

Andi flinched. Fear shot up her spine, immobilizing her. She glanced at her purse. Her cell phone was in there, but there was no way she could get to it. Or to the second door, the one behind them. They’d never get out without being shot.

“You’re too late.” Joe grabbed the back of a chair. “The state police and the FBI have it, along with all your accounts and every wire transfer I ever made for you.”

Meera sneered.

We’re going to die.

“I’m sorry, Andi.” Meera took a step closer. “I really did like you. And I’ll miss your lovely café.”