Caped and Dangerous - Isabel Jordan Page 0,22

in twenty-years (her mother, he presumed) particularly caught his attention. He pulled it off its shelf and held it up. “When was this one taken?”

Greer smiled as she leaned her head back against the couch cushion and tucked her feet up underneath her. “Two years ago. Right before her diagnosis. We went to Florida to visit her sister, my aunt, Sheila.”

In the photo, Greer and her mother were cheek-to-cheek, making silly duck faces at whoever was taking the photo. The light in Greer’s eyes was damn near blinding. Was this the last time she’d been truly happy?

“Your mum is gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” she said after a big, jaw-cracking yawn.

Killian replaced the photo and moved to sit next to her on the couch. “You’re allowed to sleep. Just remember that I’ll have to wake you up every few hours.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. They weren’t serious about that, were they?”

“They were very serious, I’m afraid.”

“You weren’t serious about staying all night, were you?”

He gave her a stern look. “I’ve never been more serious. You can throw me out, but I’ll just sit outside your door and bang on it incessantly when it’s time to wake you up. I doubt your neighbors will be too happy about it, but I’ll do it—”

Greer groaned. “Fine, fine. I get it. You’re staying. But don’t you need sleep? Don’t you have a bazillion-dollar company to run tomorrow?”

“It’s more like a gazillion-dollar company, but I’m the boss. I hired the best people in the world. Everything can run without me for a while.”

She blinked slowly, and Killian knew she was very quickly losing the battle with fatigue. “You know what, Killian Morgan?” she asked, her words slurring just a bit as her eyes drifted shut and stayed that way.

His name on her lips did insane things to his heart rate. “What’s that, love?”

“I don’t think you’re a villain at all. I think you’re one of the good guys.”

Killian waited until he was sure she was asleep (her little snuffling snore was adorable—like a congested kitten), then he stood up, careful not to jostle her, and went into the bathroom to call Tony.

As usual, his head of security picked up on the first ring.

“Was he one of ours?” Killian asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Damn it! He’d been afraid of that. Killian pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a pained sigh. “Which lab did he come from?”

Tony paused, which was very unsettling. Tony wasn’t usually one to mince words or overthink anything. Honest and straightforward to a fault. That was Tony. So, if Tony was carefully considering his words, well, shit was about to hit the fan.

“Ours, sir,” Tony finally said. “And he didn’t leave on his own. He had outside help. They somehow overrode all security protocols, disabled the night guard and their military guard, then walked right out the front door. No one even knew what happened until the second shift crew arrived.”

Which meant that what happened to Greer tonight, what happened to that policeman who was thrown out a window, was Killian’s fault.

So much for Greer thinking he was one of the good guys.

Tonight?

He was definitely the villain.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

GREER WOKE up feeling like she’d been chewed up and spit out by…something. Her brain obviously wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders, either.

Her jaw ached like a bitch, her cheekbone felt like it’d been split in two, she was dizzy as fuck, and her mouth tasted like she’d been chewing on a sewer rat.

Good times.

And she had no memory of getting up off her couch, so she imagined Killian had carried her to bed at some point. Which would explain why her T-shirt smelled like him.

Her skin tingled as she remembered him leaning over her in her hospital bed, brow furrowed, looking all kinds of hot and concerned for her safety, insisting on watching over her all night.

And he’d done it, too. Every hour, like clockwork, he was there, gently rousing her from sleep with a kiss on her forehead and softly spoken words in that sexy brogue. She had a vague memory of telling him to fuck off that last time, and his answering laugh was hot enough to make her blush like a damn school girl.

She still couldn’t believe Killian Morgan had been here, all night, and she’d been asleep. What a waste of a hot man. Greer couldn’t even remember the last man-made orgasm she’d had. And a guy who could probably give her dozens of them like it was his damn job had been there,