Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,22

was in pain, his head must be throbbing. Because every now and then he winced.

“You have a concussion. You can’t leave. You should be lying in bed, being monitored by a doctor. And I’m sure you need some pain medication.”

He tilted her chin up. “I can handle a little headache. What I can’t handle is you getting hurt. You’re far too intelligent not to realize it makes sense to get out of here. Now.”

Intelligent or not, all the arguments in her head fled the moment his warm hand touched her. “All right, give me a few minutes.”

He nodded and headed out the door.

Determined not to dwell on why Rafe Morgan, of all people, could send shivers of delight shooting through her just by touching her chin, she grabbed the grocery bag and went into the bathroom. After taking care of her needs and using the toiletries Mindy had—bless her heart—included in the bag, she hurriedly changed out of the hospital gown into the slacks and shirt. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, slipping on her shoes when Rafe came back into the room.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed her suitcase and her hand and towed her toward the door.

That inexplicable tingle of pleasure shot through Darby again. Irritated both with herself for reacting to his touch, and with him for constantly trying to haul her around everywhere, she tugged her hand out of his grasp.

He stopped and looked at her in question.

“I’ll walk beside you, or in front of you, but I refuse to be pulled behind you like a toy on a string.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t try to take her hand again. He opened the door, spoke to the officer visible through the glass wall and motioned for her to join him.

They hurried down the long hallway toward the brightly lit entrance. He stopped beside one of the two police officers standing near the double sliding glass doors. They spoke in low tones, before Rafe put his hand on the small of Darby’s back, guiding her through the doors out to the parking lot. She could feel the tension radiating off him. He continually glanced around. The policemen stood at the doors, watching them, but Darby still felt uneasy.

When they reached the driver’s side of a black, four-wheel drive pickup, Rafe tossed her suitcase in the back and pulled a set of keys out of his jeans pocket. He used the clicker to unlock his door and yanked it open.

Darby wasn’t sure how she was going to climb into the massive truck. There was no way her short legs could reach that high. Rafe must have realized the same thing, because he suddenly put his hands around her waist. She let out a surprised squeal when he lifted her up into the driver’s seat. It was a bench seat, and she had to quickly scoot over to avoid him sitting on her lap when he climbed inside.

“Seat belt,” he ordered, clicking his into place and starting the engine.

Darby shot him an irritated glance because of his latest order, but her efforts were wasted because he didn’t bother to look at her. Instead, he kept looking in his mirrors, and studying every car in the parking lot. As soon as her seat belt was on, he pulled out of the parking space.

He started forward, just as a man stepped out from beside another car and stood in the lane about fifty feet ahead of them. He motioned for them to stop. But instead of slowing, Rafe hit the accelerator, making the truck leap forward. The man had to jump out of the way to avoid being run down.

Darby gasped in shock and turned in her seat to look behind them. The man was standing in the middle of the lane again, his hands fisted beside him. Even in the dim parking lot lights, Darby could see the mask of fury on his face.

“Who was that?”

Rafe glanced in his rearview mirror before answering. “That was Jake.” He didn’t pause at the stop sign onto the main road. The truck’s tires squealed as he turned south.

“Who’s Jake?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Jake Young is a detective, and a bomb tech. He’s the man with the gun we were hiding from at the hospital. You probably don’t remember seeing him in the stairwell since you were basically catatonic at the time.”

She rolled her eyes at his “catatonic” comment. “The one who was trying to help us, right? He