Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,81
on him. Sometime during the night, she’d found her courage, and Con had honed his compassion. They’d shared the best parts of themselves with each other tonight. Making them both stronger, both better.
Bailey shook her head. No way would she pass up the opportunity to have Con’s babies. Please, let me have that chance. She planted a kiss on his sensual lips. She hoped their children inherited their daddy’s beautifully shaped mouth. “Nan said she’s already forgotten the pain.”
“And you call me brave?” He frowned. “I don’t know how you women do it.”
“This from a guy who eats bullets for a living?”
“Taking down perps and eating bullets is one thing. I still see every face of every man I’ve killed in the line of duty. I accept it. Live with it.” His expression turned more serious than she’d ever seen. But, when—” He faltered. Swallowed hard. “When I held that tiny infant in my arms and she wouldn’t breathe…”
He was trembling, and she hugged him close. “It’s okay. Constance is okay.”
When he spoke, his low voice was graveled. “If that baby had died in my hands, I would not have been able to live with it.” He sucked in an unsteady breath. “Not for a second.”
“It wouldn’t have been your fault. You are not responsible for everyone’s safety.”
“It sure as hell feels like my responsibility.”
“Which makes you the man you are. The man I love.” She drew away slightly and embraced his anguished gaze with hers. “But not everything is within your control, Con.”
“Don’t I know it. How the hell…” He drew another shaky breath. “How am I gonna keep everyone alive? Including that baby upstairs? How am I gonna get us out of here?”
She’d never seen him unsure. So raw. Exposed and vulnerable. Her chest ached with the need to comfort him. “Everyone is safe for now. Let’s stick with what’s worked so far and handle one crisis at a time, okay?”
His beautiful mouth twisted. “I can barely stand, much less defend you in another crisis. If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Bailey placed gentle fingers against his lips. “You’ve been protecting me all night. Let me protect you for a change. You need rest.”
“I can’t rest with so many lives at stake. Everyone is depending on me.”
“I’ll keep watch. Go to sleep.” She brushed a kiss on his bandaged forehead. “You’ll feel better and stronger when you wake up, and we’ll take it from there.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “I’d never have made it tonight without you.”
“Ditto, Officer Sexy. Now shut those gorgeous brown eyes for a while, and take a load off.”
Bailey didn’t think he would ever give in, but finally, his lashes drifted down, and his breathing slowed. Fierce determination bubbled inside her. He trusted her to take care of him when he wasn’t a hundred percent on top of his game. She lay there, listening to the throbbing darkness that surrounded them. She wouldn’t fail him.
Con settled into deep slumber. The seconds crawled. Cold. Dark. Silent. She tried to track time in her head. How many minutes had dragged past? She needed to check in with Aidan, and she was thirsty. Also, if an hour had gone by, she had to wake Con. She eased out of his arms and off the bed. His exhaustion was so profound, he didn’t even stir.
She was reaching for the water bottle when she heard it. A slight scrape, a rustle that might have been clothing. Carefully, she crept out of hiding and circled to the front of the store. Her heart slammed into her rib cage, and then pounded wildly.
A stocky man with short-cropped dark hair searched the aisles in the gloom near the entrance. Machine gun at the ready, he systematically swept row by row. Before long, he would work his way back to Con.
Every muscle cramped in dread. Her insides turned to jelly. She couldn’t wake Con. In his weakened condition, a fight meant a death sentence. Yes, he had a pistol. But a handgun against a machine gun? A few bullets versus…didn’t machine guns contain endless rounds of bullets? Con was the team’s best shot, but he was groggy, his reflexes slow and muddled, his vision blurred.
She remembered the searing horror, the eviscerating agony that had ripped her apart when she’d thought him dead. If a firefight ensued, instead of choosing the most viable tactical position for himself, Con would do his damnedest to protect her. He’d die trying.
For the first time,