Page 20 of Serve ’N’ Protect

For someone with such a prestigious job, he was sure downplaying its importance. “You must know the President, right? Is he a nice guy?” Before looking at the bandage beneath the gauze on his abdomen, she ran her fingers over and across his back to verify he was indeed dry. Catching a chill wouldn’t help him heal any.

“No idea. I’ve only met him in passing.”

O-kay. “You’ve never talked to him?” As her fingers grazed his back, his skin puckered with goose bumps.

“I protect the President. It’s not my job to make friends with the guy.” He twisted his neck to look over his shoulder at her. “How’s it looking back there, doc?”

Alrighty then. He wasn’t about to give up any presidential gossip, and she respected him for that. “There’s no blood, so that’s good, and your stitches are still intact.” As close as they were, his warm breath blew across the top of her head. “You were just sweating. Can you lie down so I can check the wound on your abdomen?”

She stood so he could stretch out, hooking her cane on the side table so she could help him swing his long legs onto the mattress. Grimacing, he eased back and lay down with his head on the pillow.

Cassidy made quick work of examining the bandage. “Looks good here, too. Do you want me to get you your jammies?”

“I sleep in the nude.”

Cassidy opened her mouth to say something, but the only thing that came out was a choked gurgle. “In that case, I should be going.” A naked Markus York was not something she needed to see. She stood to leave. “Like I said, I know the alarm code and still have the spare key, so I’ll—”

His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell evenly. He was fast asleep. Cassidy reached for the blanket and draped it over him. He didn’t budge.

“Take care of him, Ghost.” She leaned down to pet the dog on his head just as he curled up and lay down on the rug. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Ghost gave her hand a quick lick.

On the way out, she turned off the lights then headed downstairs. Before leaving, she finished cleaning up the kitchen and turned off most of the other lights. The day certainly hadn’t turned out as she’d planned. Now, in addition to her accounting work, she had a patient of sorts to care for.

Moving as quietly as possible, she went to the hallway and put on her jacket. After setting the alarm, she locked the door behind her, waiting outside on the porch until the system stopped beeping. The cool night air felt good on her face, and she inhaled a deep breath, unable to stop thinking about the man asleep upstairs.

Most people couldn’t imagine being in the kind of pain Markus must have endured, but she could. When she’d blurted out that her leg had nearly been severed during the accident, she hadn’t been kidding. At least she no longer had nightmares about it.

As she made her way slowly across the grass, she couldn’t keep from wondering if Markus really slept in the nude or whether he’d just said that to gauge her reaction.

As it always did, the wood railing on her porch steps jiggled as she leaned on it. Like so many other things on her house, that needed repair, too. Headlights lit the road as a car came around the bend. Normally, when they hit the straightaway in front of her house, cars sped up. This one didn’t and actually slowed as it drove past. Odd.

Or was it?

Traffic was sparse in her neighborhood to begin with, let alone this late at night, one of many reasons why she’d bought her bungalow in the first place. Peace and relative quiet. Given what had happened to Markus and the fact that someone tried to murder him again today, maybe she was seeing things that weren’t there.

She watched the car closely, waiting until it continued past and she could no longer see its red taillights. Before today, it never would have occurred to her that someone driving by could be a cold-blooded killer.

Now, it did, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just put herself at risk, too.

Chapter Eight

Sunlight poured through the open blinds, telling Markus he’d slept through the night and today was already tomorrow. Sunday.

For a moment, he couldn’t recall how he’d gotten into bed last night.

Cassidy.

His lips twitched. The pretty blonde who smelled so good. She had helped him upstairs then examined his sutures. That was the last coherent thing he remembered. Except for how her gentle fingers had tickled his skin as she’d patted his back dry with a towel.

Ghost rested his snout on the bed, huffing warm breath against the side of Markus’s face. Probably what woke him in the first place. His dog was hungry and needed to go out. “Hey, Ghost.” Markus scratched his dog’s ears and was rewarded with a few licks to his chin. “All right, all right. I’m getting up.”

Inch by painful inch, he pushed to his elbows, the wounds on his back and abdomen screaming in protest. Finally, he made it upright. Men of action didn’t sit on their asses, but his body told him he’d have to take it easy for a while or risk another trip to the ER.

“Give me a few minutes to wash up,” he said to Ghost as he slowly swung his legs off the mattress. The blanket slipped to the floor. He couldn’t even remember putting the blanket over himself. “Blanket.” He pointed and Ghost grabbed it in his mouth, handing it up to Markus so he didn’t have to lean over. “Thanks, buddy.”

Using the bedside table for support, he stood, then waited to see if the room would spin. It did, but not at forty-five rpms as it had yesterday when he’d been on that stepladder. He waited until the vertigo-like feeling passed. On instinct, he grabbed his Glock. With someone trying to kill him, he couldn’t be too careful. He went into the bathroom, set the gun on the vanity, then closed the door. Grunting, he reached for a thick terry cloth towel on the top shelf of the closet. His arm bumped against a jug of laundry detergent, which fell off the shelf, nearly hitting him in the head. The heavy plastic container hit the tile with a thunk.