hauled her to him, arms banding her back. "I thought he got you," he whispered for her ears only. "I thought he got you."
She closed her eyes to the desperate tone in his voice and hugged him back, still reeling from the events. Breathing in his cinnamon scent, she tried to uncoil the muscles straining her neck and shoulders. Noah had her in his strong arms. She was okay. He was okay.
"I'm fine, Noah."
"You guys sure know how to throw a party." A man strode over to them, stepping around glass shards. His gait was lithe, like that of a martial arts practitioner. Tan suit wrinkled, tie askew, he shook his head. His dark blond hair was graying at the temples and his mouth had fine wrinkles at the corners. Dark brown eyes surveyed the room and fell back on them. "Everyone all right?"
Noah tensed and turned. "What the fuck, McCannon? I thought you had men outside? How did he get a shot?"
McCannon put an unlit cigarette between his lips and left it there as he spoke. "We did, and your men were out there, too. He was tucked into a back alley."
Raven regarded the man Noah referenced as his FBI contact. He was in his mid-forties and, though he had a screw-all demeanor, his eyes said he carried a piece of every case with him.
Two paramedics brought in a stretcher and got to work helping Max. Tears threatened again. He'd put himself between her and a bullet. The realization of "his job," as he'd put it, slammed into her. Max could've died. Protecting her. She pressed a palm to her forehead.
Noah slid his arm around her waist and looked down at her.
McCannon pulled out his phone, swiped the screen, and turned it toward her, holding it out. "Have you seen this guy hanging around?"
The wanna-be artist who gave her the creeps.
She nodded. "He's been in here a few times. He??anted a showing." She looked between the two men. "He said his name was Vincent Soreno. Who is he?"
"Vincent Soreno is right. We're pretty confident he's the hired assassin." McCannon sighed. "Dumb shit didn't even bother to change his name."
Noah tensed. "That dumb shit just shot through a window with five bodyguards inside and three FBI agents outside. He nearly put holes in her. And me. He did shoot one of my men."
McCannon pocketed his phone. "We'll get him. He got away by the skin of his teeth."
"Pardon me if I don't hold my breath." Noah pulled them out of the way when the paramedics brought Max by on a stretcher. He set his hand on Max's shoulder and squeezed, quiet appreciation in his eyes.
Raven eased out from under Noah's arm and leaned over the stretcher. Having no idea what to say to Max, she smiled. He was pale, but didn't appear to be in much pain. "Thank you. I'm sorry I called you an idiot. You scared me."
He waved her comment aside. "See you tomorrow, Miss Crowne."
"You will not."
He smiled and winced. "Day after, then."
She stood and watched them wheel her bodyguard away, everything so surreal. Red and blue lights. Glass everywhere. Blood on the floor. On her hands.
"Come on, baby. Let's get you home."
***
Noah sat on the bed and stripped off his tie. After the shooting, he couldn't stomach the thought of staying in Anchorage, so he had their driver take them right to the airport and, by helicopter, they flew to Aubrey's Castle. Thankfully, his niece slept through the noise and allowed him and Raven to enter the third floor suite without interruption. He was hoping he'd be in a better frame of mind in the morning.
Listening to the water from Raven's shower, he stripped out of his clothes and tried to block the images from earlier from his mind. But they kept coming. Raven with a scope target on her chest. Her underneath Max on the floor. Noah being too far away for too long, wondering if she'd been hurt. Agonizingly long moments where he hadn't known if she was alive or dead.
Running his hands through his hair, he flopped onto his back. If Max hadn't been so close to her, it could've been her that had been shot, with a much more fatal wound. He pressed his palms to his eyes, remembering the heart-stopping moment he thought she'd been hit. He hadn't drawn breath since. Was still suffocating.
He should've never touched her. Never brought her into this mess. He'd been selfish and, because of him,