Page 43 of Serve ’N’ Protect

He did, watching her every move intently, still searching for other injuries that he’d missed. “Did you black out?” If she had, it could mean a concussion, and he’d drive her to the hospital whether she liked it or not.

She thought for a few seconds, then, “No.”

Markus didn’t like the slight hesitation in her response. “No? Or you’re not sure?”

“No, and quit with the interrogation.”

More relief gushed through him at her snarky response. This was more like the Cassidy he’d come to know, a sign that she couldn’t be hurt all that badly.

Only then did he realize her pink top had risen to just beneath her breasts, exposing her flat tummy. He tugged down the top, noting how her body quivered as his fingers contacted her skin. A good kind of quiver or a bad kind, he couldn’t be certain. She leaned against him, and he automatically slipped his arm around her waist, tugging her closer and rubbing her back in what he hoped were soothing circles, the same way he’d done after she’d fallen on the porch steps. Although, this time, he didn’t know which one of them needed more soothing because this whole situation was messing with his head and sending his thoughts in suspicious directions.

Could this burglary have anything to do with him?

Over the last two weeks, he’d spent a fair amount of time in Cassidy’s house, and he couldn’t forget that they’d left the hospital in her car. Was it possible the shooter had seen her license plate and eventually tracked him back here? Based on the shooter’s location and the angle of sight to where she’d picked him up, he didn’t think so. If he was wrong about that, the shooter could have mistakenly thought he was hiding out in Cassidy’s house. If the van was the one from before, had they been casing the place, looking for him?

Too many moving parts, too many missing pieces. No way would he stay here if he’d inadvertently put Cassidy in danger again. Unless he could satisfy himself that this was a straight-up burglary, he’d be outta there.

With his free hand, he tugged the phone from his back pocket, swiping to dial 911. “I want to report a burglary,” he said when the dispatcher answered.

Cassidy jerked her head up. “What are you doing? I thought you didn’t want to call the police.”

“It’s okay,” he said, taking in the concern in her eyes as he gave the dispatcher her address and his name as Alex Adessio. What he’d just set in motion would garner him a major ass-whooping from McMurray, but he didn’t care. Not where Cassidy’s safety was concerned.

He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and cupped her face while he examined the blossoming red stain on her right cheek. The rage in his gut totally overshadowed the throbbing pain he’d inflicted on himself by chasing after that POS.

In the Middle East, marines had been bloodied, maimed, and killed all around him. It wasn’t that it hadn’t affected him—it had. But seeing Cassidy hurt and terrified twisted his insides in violent ways he’d never experienced before, and damn, his hands were shaking. From fear, he realized somewhere in the depths of his sanity. What he really wanted was to punch something, or at least ram his fist through the wall.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” The smooth skin on her forehead furrowed. “It’s not worth exposing yourself.” She sat up straighter, trying to wriggle out from his embrace but he wouldn’t let her. Didn’t want to let her out of his sight. “You and Ghost can still leave before the police get here.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Someday, he would. Just not today. The thought sent an unfamiliar pang to that big floppy thing inside his chest.

“It’s not worth it.” She shook her head. “You should go before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late,” he countered. “After the police take our statements, they’ll send a team out to dust for prints. Then they’ll ask us for fingerprint samples. I told the dispatcher my name was Alex Adessio, but my prints are on file as Markus York.”

“All the more reason for you to leave,” she insisted. “This isn’t worth risking your safety over. I’m nobody.”

He drew back, looking at her as if she’d lost her marbles. “You’re not nobody. You’re—” Unlabeled emotions flared in his head and in his heart, and for the first time in his life, it angered him beyond reason that he couldn’t find the words to describe all that she’d come to mean to him in such a short time. The right words would always elude him, but he was a man of action. There was something he could do.

Markus cupped her face with both hands, gliding his thumbs over her lips before doing something he’d wanted to earlier. He leaned in. And kissed her.

The moment his lips contacted hers, the urgent hunger threatening to punch a hole in his chest was stunning in its intensity. Her lips were as soft as he imagined they would be and when she sighed, parting them so he could delve his tongue inside, her taste was as sweet and pure as honey. One of nature’s miracles. He pulled her closer, until her nipples grazed his chest.

When she slid her arms to his back, digging her fingers into his skin, his heart took up a crazy staccato, pulsing loudly in his ears as one clear thought pinged in his brain.

He wanted her with a fierceness that was totally foreign to him. She might think her scars were ugly, but he didn’t. They were a sign of her courage, her determination, all things he admired.

The urgent hunger he’d been feeling erupted, and Markus angled the kiss, swiping his tongue deeper, wanting to breathe her very essence into his soul.

Ghost gave a gruff snort as the sound of sirens cut through the haze of desire and he pulled away. Cassidy’s head lay against his biceps, and she looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. The tip of her tongue darted over her lower lip, wet from being thoroughly kissed.

“We’re about to have company.” Reluctance warred with relief as he helped her to stand then retrieved her cane from where it sat on the floor a few feet away. Reluctance because he wanted to go on kissing her for the rest of the night. Relief because cop-us interruptus was exactly what he needed.

He liked Cassidy. More than liked her, and if he didn’t throw ice water on whatever was heating up between them, he’d only fuck things up with her, the same way he’d fucked up every other relationship he’d had with a woman.

“I’ll let them in.” He shoved a hand through his hair, trying not to stare at her taut nipples pressing against the next-to-nothing top she wore. “You…might want to put something on over that.”

She glanced down. “Oh!” Around the blossoming bruise, her cheeks pinked and she started up the stairs.