Love at First Sight - By B. J. Daniels Page 0,40

the booth said.

Jack doubted that. But he did think she’d been struck. By the killer?

A moment later Jack heard the sound of an ambulance drawing closer. Karen stirred in his arms. Her eyelids fluttered against her pale skin and he noticed how light her freckles were. She needed some sunshine on her face, he thought, and immediately thought of the ski lodge. He’d take her there. Take care of her.

But even as he thought it, he knew she’d be even more determined to find the person behind this herself. She’d been taken into protective custody, locked up and held by armed guards. Look at the chance she’d taken escaping to get to the carousel for the second meeting.

The fact that the killer had blown up a floor of the hotel and almost killed her in a phone booth wasn’t going to slow her down. Just the opposite. And he knew there was nothing he could say that would dissuade her. Not this woman. Not this time. She wouldn’t believe anyone could protect her now.

Her eyes opened. Aquamarine with flecks of gold.

“Hello,” he said softly, never so glad to see those eyes looking at him. Even if she was frowning.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“My head hurts.” She tried to sit up. The effort made her wince.

“Easy. Stay still. An ambulance is on its way.”

She blinked. “Ambulance? What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked.

“No.” She glanced around in confusion. “I don’t remember….”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything until you’re feeling better. If you’ll let me do that,” he added, bothered by the fact that she was still frowning at him.

“Do I know you?”

“Jack,” he said, studying her intently. “Jack Adams.” The name didn’t seem to ring any bells. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Of course. Friday, March 17.”

Friday. The day before the murder. The day before she ran into Liz on the street and went to the coffee shop for some girl talk. The day before she became the only witness in a murder case.

“Where am I?” She frowned as if she realized she wasn’t in the part of the town she thought she was. He felt her pull away. Friday. They hadn’t met yet. He was a stranger. His heart sank.

She was still in grave danger and yet she didn’t know it. Didn’t remember anything—especially the face of the killer. Nor Jack Adams’s face, he reminded himself. If he thought she wouldn’t let him protect her before, she really wasn’t going to now. Not a complete stranger.

The ambulance pulled in, lights flashing. An EMT ran toward the phone booth. In a few seconds Karen would be gone. Once she got into the ambulance headed for the hospital, Captain Baxter would hear about it. Jack knew he wouldn’t be able to get near her after that. But the killer might. Look how close he’d gotten this time.

“Karen, you have to listen to me—”

She drew back, squinting at him as if trying to put him into focus. “Do I know you?” She didn’t sound as though she’d necessarily mind knowing him.

The notion came out of nowhere. It never even hit idea stage. Certainly couldn’t have been considered a plan because given more time he would have realized just how flawed it was. But he didn’t have time. The words just popped out, almost of their own accord.

“Of course you know me, Karen. I’m your husband.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Husband? She stared at the man. As in married? Surely she would remember getting married, wouldn’t she?

He smiled. Jack Adams did have a nice smile and there was something about him—

“What have we got, Detective Adams?” an emergency medical technician asked from the open phone-booth doorway.

Detective Jack Adams? She’d married a cop? She hated to consider what her mother must think of that.

“She fell and hit her head,” her husband answered.

Is that what had happened? Could explain her headache and the fact that she and her husband were on the cold floor of a phone booth with a crowd outside and an ambulance waiting.

“How long have we been married?” she asked her cop husband quietly.

“Just a few…hours.”

A few hours? He had to be kidding. She glanced down half expecting to find herself still in her wedding gown. “Was it an informal wedding?” she asked, trying to understand what she was doing in jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers.

“We eloped. Got married at city hall.”

“Well, congratulations,” the EMT said as her husband moved out of the way to let the man check her over.

She leaned back against the