Page 62 of Healing the Heart

“I know you are. And I wouldn’t want to embarrass you at work, so I’ll watch my pet names for you.” His lips brushed hers gently. “Now let’s get out of here, kitten. I’m starved.”

Chapter 17

You Need a Distraction

GRIFF AND JONAS WENTall in on their investigation of Robert Jordan, putting in insane hours, seven days a week. Since he had some downtime while she worked, they recruited Noah to help research leads. All of them turned out to be dead ends. Their combined efforts yielding nothing, so far. It was as if the man had vanished.

Fiona’s days fell into a pattern, each one blending into the next. Noah would drive her to work then hand her off to one of the Rossi men—either Kai or Tristan, and, once, Samson. She insisted, freaking out a little because she knew it would seem weird to her co-workers and raise a bunch of questions if the foundation president, who only stopped by a few times a year, suddenly started hanging around. Worse, if they noticed him watching her while doing so.

He wasn’t pleased, but she insisted that having the foundation president and the man whose name was on the sign, logo, and every piece of paper in the clinic following her around all day would be a red flag for the staff. Her frantic behavior, which escalated to a full-blown freak-out the night before her return may have played a part in convincing him to give in. His latitude ended there, however. At the end of her workday, he was always waiting to relieve her dayshift guard and take her home.

The other staff noticed the big, muscular hotties who had invaded their space and went wherever she did. How could they not? Especially Samson, who at six and a half feet tall looked more a tree than the lumberjack everyone always compared him to. But she avoided their questions by staying busy and out of the break room as best she could.

Only John knew what happened that night.

“If Rossi is providing personal security, this can’t be good. How much danger are you in, Fi?” he asked one afternoon when they were in the therapists’ office.

“They caught the killer,” she told him, keeping her voice low, even if it was just the two of them. “They’re still looking for who hired him.”

“Someone hired them to vandalize your car?” he asked, disbelief in his tone.

“Yeah, the guy confessed. He claimed they were only supposed to scare me. Mission accomplished,” she added with a dry, humorless chuckle.

“But one of them ended up dead?”

“Yeah,” she murmured with a distinct sense of unease. “Things didn’t go down exactly as planned, evidently.”

“You were the target all along? Holy crap, Fi. Why?”

“No one knows, but I seem to have caught a psychopath’s eye.”

John gripped her hand. “These guys are huge, and Rossi has a badass reputation, but I’m worried about you.”

“Can’t lie, my friend. I’m worried too, but I trust them to keep me safe. Or as safe as possible.”

“You had to add that last part?” he asked, looking a little green.

When one of the therapy assistants walked into the room, the conversation ended. Despite her reassurances to John, shecouldn’t shake the overwhelming fear that Jordan, or one of his hired goons, lurked around the next corner.

The only place she felt completely safe was in Noah’s arms.

HER BARE FEET MADEnot a sound, but he could count every step and turn. Noah closed his medical journal and set it aside, finding it impossible to concentrate on the article about the breakthrough medical device to enhance bone healing.

He leaned back in his chair and watched her pace from one end of the living room to the other. Occasionally, she’d detour to the wall of windows in his breakfast nook and look out. Seconds later, she’d return to her back-and-forth path and resume.

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