Special Forces Rendezvous

chapter 15



“We’ve got a visual on Apollo. I repeat, visual on Apollo. Appears to be asleep in the back bedroom, west side, clear shot.” The hushed report came from the sniper positioned on the roof of the house bordering the terrorist nest.

“Roger that. Maintain visual.” Foster’s voice, in that same monotone murmur, echoed in Sebastian’s earpiece.

“Visual on two tangos in the back bedroom, east side,” the operative covering the side of the house whispered. “Andromeda One and Two. No movement.”

“Andromeda Three, Four and Five in the kitchen. Visual on back door,” came another whisper. “Awake but no movement.”

From his position in the hedges separating the ULF nest from the neighboring home, Sebastian fixed his gaze on the front of the house. The lights in the living room were on, and a body was sprawled on the couch, a male arm pointing a remote control at a television. The bluish light from the TV screen reflected off the glass of the large front window.

“Tango in the living room. Awake but no movement,” Sebastian murmured. “That makes Andromeda Six.”

Six soldiers and Escobar, who’d been dubbed Apollo, making that a total of seven bodies inside the house. Four awake, three potentially sleeping.

Sebastian looked at the stoic-faced operative next to him. They were both decked out in the same getup—all-black uniform, utility vest, protective helmet, sturdy boots, and their faces were smudged with dark polish for them to blend into the shadows. Protected by a layer of Kevlar and body armor, Sebastian was carrying an MP5 submachine gun and two nine-millimeter sidearms, not to mention strategically placed knives and several grenades clipped to his vest.

“Get in position,” Foster’s voice murmured. “Maintain visual.”

Using standard operation hand signals, Sebastian’s teammate, a man who’d introduced himself only as Boswell, gestured for Sebastian to fall in line. The two soldiers silently crept toward the house, flattening themselves against the exterior wall and inching toward the edge of the bay window. They slid down to the ground and assumed a crawl position, neither one making a sound as they slithered beneath the window toward the paint-chipped front door.

One by one, the other team members checked in with a quick “Ready,” including the two snipers positioned on the roofs of the neighboring houses. Once Sebastian and his partner were in position, they murmured their status, then awaited instructions. The plan called for a simultaneous ambush on every point of entry, but not until they received the go signal from Foster.

Time stood still as Sebastian waited in the darkness. The entire street was quieter than a church, though he did make out the sound of a car engine in the distance. Other than that, there was virtually no residential traffic at four-thirty in the morning, and the unit had been able to infiltrate the area without any trouble.

Foster’s voice hissed over the transmission again. “Remember, lethal force if necessary, but the objective is to apprehend, not eliminate. Priority on Apollo. We move on my count. One.”

Sebastian tightened his grip on his MP5.

“Two.”

He breathed deeply through his nose.

“Three.”

He and Boswell sprang to action, spraying the front door with bullets before kicking it in and bursting into the house. Boswell went straight, Sebastian ducked left into the living room. Noise exploded in his ears, coming from all parts of the house. Deafening gunfire, shattering glass, urgent shouts and brisk commands to lay down weapons.

The ULF soldier in the living room dived off the couch, firing an AK in Sebastian’s direction. Ears ringing, Sebastian rolled behind the arm of the tattered polyester sofa and unloaded a round. Glass exploded. More gunshots continued to rock the house.

The soldier was hunkered down behind a brown armchair with its stuffing coming out. Sebastian’s gaze followed the movement of the man’s arm, which appeared to be trying to reach the splintered wooden table.

“¡Ahora!” The frantic Spanish order broke through the rat-tat-tat of machine gunfire. “¡Ahora!”

Now.

Sebastian glanced at the coffee table and instantly realized what the panicked ULF rebel was attempting to grab. A silver remote the size of a cigarette pack, with a blinking red light and black button.

Son of a bitch. A detonator. Evidently, the responsibility of blowing the house to kingdom come was this little bastard’s job.

Making a move for the detonator meant exposing himself to the barrel of that AK-47, but Sebastian had no other choice. Saying a silent prayer, he left the cover of the sofa and executed a flying leap toward the table. Bullets whizzed by his head. Something hit him in the gut, hard, knocking the wind right out of him. He made a mad grab for the detonator, his fingers colliding with it just as the ULF soldier lunged at him.

The remote slipped out of his hand and clattered to the weathered hardwood floor. Both men went after it, Sebastian dropping his MP5 in the process. Christ, he wasn’t going to reach it first. Fear and adrenaline seized his blood. He fumbled for the Glock at his hip.

With a wild cry one might hear from an injured animal, the terrorist flung out his arm, his fingers inches from the detonator.

Sebastian pulled the trigger and put four bullets in the back of the man’s head.

Thump.

The terrorist’s arm dropped to the hardwood. His body went motionless.

Breathing hard, Sebastian climbed over the dead man, ignoring the puddle of blood forming around the man’s head.

He grabbed the detonator, then shuddered out a sigh of relief as he touched his earpiece and said, “Andromeda Six KIA. Detonator confiscated. South quadrant clear.”

He tipped his head up to examine the ceiling for any signs of wiring, but whatever explosives this house had been rigged with, they weren’t visible to the naked eye. He expected they’d find a mountain of C4 in the basement, maybe even concealed in the walls.

“Andromeda One and Two apprehended. West quadrant clear,” a brisk voice reported.

“Andromeda Three, Four and Five KIA. North quadrant clear,” another voice barked.

“Apollo apprehended,” a triumphant voice announced. “East quadrant clear.”

Pocketing the detonator, Sebastian picked up his fallen MP5 and stepped into the hallway, where he found Boswell. It was hard to make out the man’s expression beneath all that black face paint, but it was easy to discern the glint of victory in the soldier’s eyes.

They headed for the back of the house toward the bedroom where Escobar had been holed up. There, they found two Delta operatives looming over Raoul Escobar, guns trained on his forehead. The ULF leader wore an expression of pure defeat, looking so upset that Sebastian had to swallow a laugh.

Your dastardly plan didn’t work out the way you wanted, huh?

“Any sign of Meridian?” Foster’s voice barked in everyone’s ears.

“Doing a sweep of the premises,” one operative barked, and he was echoed by three similar responses.

Sebastian removed the detonator from his vest pocket and held it up. “House is rigged,” he said, clicking on his earpiece. “Get a bomb squad here. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“Meridian virus secure.”

Silence rippled through the feed.

“Say that again?” Foster ordered.

“Meridian virus is secure.”

Sebastian glanced at Escobar, whose dark eyes had taken on a hard, resigned light. He was beaten, and he knew it.

“I repeat, the Meridian virus is secure.”

* * *

An hour later, Sebastian was still riding the adrenaline high of a successful op as he hopped out of the chopper with the rest of the team. A ground unit was bringing Escobar and the two surviving ULF soldiers in for interrogation, while the deadly vials discovered in the basement of the nest were being airlifted to the CDC. A search of the house hadn’t turned up any more vials, and according to one of Escobar’s men, who was singing like a canary, all the vials in the group’s possession had been in the house.

That only spoke to the disorganized and highly unprofessional tactics of the ULF splinter sect. Escobar’s planning had been shoddy, his security weak, his goals unrealistic.

“Very nice work,” Brent Davidson boomed as he greeted him at the helipad.

He slapped Sebastian’s back, and the two men headed for the door leading into the building. The rest of the team stalked past them, Foster barking orders at his men as he wiped the black polish off his face with a cotton rag.

Sebastian did the same, running a cloth over his skin as he fell into step with Brent, who was still spitting out details.

“A joint task force is being organized in San Marquez. Every known ULF hideout will be raided. We can’t take the chance that Escobar has another vial of the virus stashed somewhere in that country.”

“Honestly? I don’t think he does,” Sebastian answered. “Escobar didn’t strike me as the brightest bulb in the bunch. I think he was tired of Luego not producing any results, convinced a handful of idiots to join his cooler and more extreme ULF sect, and half-assed a scheme that unfortunately got those people in Dixie killed. He was successful on a small scale, but I doubt he would’ve been able to pull off an attack on a major city, and I doubt he’d risk letting that virus out of his sight, not if there’s a chance of it being released in his own country.”

“Valid points,” Brent agreed. “We’ll see what the searches turn up.”

They strode down a fluorescent-lit corridor, and Sebastian unsnapped his helmet and tucked it under his arm. “I want to see Dr. Davenport. Where is she?”

“She’s in my office. The couch in there is comfortable as hell, but I suspect she didn’t listen to my suggestion that she get some sleep. She was wearing a hole in the carpet the last time I checked on her.”

He suppressed a grin. Yep, no surprise there. No way would Julia do anything other than pace—she’d been too damn worried when they’d parted ways on the helipad.

“You want something to drink?” Brent asked as they entered the elevator.

“Some water would be great. Feels like my mouth is filled with sawdust.”

Brent grinned, reaching out to punch two different level buttons. “I could use a cup of coffee myself. I’ll grab you a bottle of water and meet you and the doc in my office for debriefing.”

“Sounds good.”

The elevator doors dinged. Sebastian stepped into the hall and made his way toward Davidson’s office. His pulse sped up the closer he got, and he suddenly realized just how eager he was to see Julia. The last time he’d felt this excited to see a woman had been...nine years ago.

When he’d been falling in love with Lynn.

He came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the corridor. Before he could stop it, the image of Lynn’s big blue eyes and silky blond hair floated into his head, and his heart clenched in response. Christ, she’d been so delicate. Barely over five feet, with soft ethereal features and the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

Lynn’s face quickly transformed into Julia’s—those stubborn hazel eyes and angular jaw and sassy mouth. There was nothing delicate about Julia. She possessed an unyielding amount of strength. She was hotter than molten lava. Smarter than he’d ever be.

And he loved her.

He freaking loved her.

Rather than the icy rush of fear he expected, pure liberation soared inside him like a bird taking flight. He set off again, his strides long and determined.

He marched into Brent’s office without knocking and found Julia on the couch, absently flipping through a copy of the day’s newspaper.

She shot to her feet when he walked in, blurted out “Thank God!” and threw herself into his arms.

He wrapped his arms around her slender body and held her, breathing in her familiar scent of soap and orange blossoms. Christ, he could get high off that sweet feminine fragrance, and he held her even tighter, never wanting to let go.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she murmured, gazing up at him with those big doe eyes that suddenly seemed so unsuited to a woman who had nerves of steel.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he replied huskily.

Ignoring the surprised look on her face, he swiftly bent his head and kissed her, all the pent-up tension of this unbelievably tense day pouring out and transforming what was supposed to be a gentle kiss into a passionate domination that had Julia moaning against his lips. He nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment, then pulled back with a grimace. His mouth was now officially devoid of any moisture, parched to a whole new level.

“I’m so damn thirsty,” he said with a sigh.

Laughing, Julia grabbed a bottle of water from the desk. “Here, drink,” she ordered. “We can’t have you getting dehydrated.”

“Yes, Doctor.” He untwisted the cap and chugged the entire bottle in one long gulp, eliciting another laugh from Dr. Davenport.

The cold liquid hit the spot and eased the dryness of his mouth, but when he tossed the empty bottle in the wastebasket by the door, he saw Julia eyeing him with disapproval.

“What?” he said sheepishly.

“You really couldn’t save a teeny little drop for me?” She rolled her eyes. “Because now I’m thirsty.”

“Er, I’m sorry, Doc. Let me make it up to you.” With a wicked grin, he advanced on her, intending on resuming that hot makeout session, but Brent foiled that plan by striding into the office.

Holding a foam cup of coffee in one hand, the black-haired man tossed an Evian bottle in Sebastian’s direction before rounding the desk and sitting on the commanding leather chair.

“Here,” Sebastian said, handing the water to Julia. “This one can be all yours.”

Smiling, she uncapped the bottle and took a long sip. “Thanks.”

“Have a seat, guys,” Brent said, gesturing to the two plush chairs in front of the mahogany desk. “We’ve got a few matters to discuss, and some statements for you to sign.”

They spent the next twenty minutes being debriefed and discussing their options. With a frustrated sigh, Brent leaned back in his chair and said, “I recommend you remain stateside. I can offer both of you round-the-clock protection and—”

“Not gonna happen,” Sebastian cut in. “I need to rejoin my men as soon as possible. I’ll discuss it with them, but I suspect they’ll want to avoid the States until we know for sure who murdered the rest of our unit.”

“I promise I will do everything in my power to figure that out,” Brent answered. “I’m certain that once we discover who authorized the creation of the Meridian virus in the first place, we’ll find that the same person was the one responsible for the deaths of your men. A task force is already being assembled, and an internal investigation of every government agency and every government worker, as high up as the White House, will be conducted. Finding the person responsible for Meridian is now a matter of national security.”

“Good,” Sebastian said. “But until you find that person, I can’t stick around.”

“Me neither,” Julia spoke up.

He glanced over in surprise. They hadn’t discussed what her plans were, but he was happy to hear she wasn’t foolishly insisting on returning to Boston or sticking around in D.C. He knew exactly where he wanted her to go, but that required the long, mushy discussion he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

“For now, Julia stays with me,” he said, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his bounds.

But she didn’t seem at all bothered by the declaration. “If I decide to accept your protection, I’ll let you know,” she told Brent.

The older man sighed. “Well, short of placing you in protective custody against your will, I can’t force either of you to stay. But you will need to come back at some point if your testimony is ever required.”

“We’ll see,” Sebastian said, his tone intentionally vague.

Brent chuckled. “Uh-huh. I know what that means.” He rose from the desk and stuck out his hand. “It was good to see you, Stone. Do me a favor and leave me a number where I can contact you?”

He offered a gracious nod. “That I can do.”

The two men shook hands, and then Brent gave Julia’s arm a gentle squeeze before walking them both out. “The country owes a great debt to you both,” Brent said seriously. “The CDC is already working on developing an antidote based on the sample and notes you gave us, and Escobar won’t be releasing a damn thing into any water supply thanks to you, Sebastian.”

When they stepped into the hall, they bumped into Brent’s aide, Paul, who gestured to Sebastian’s combat uniform. “You’ll need to stop at the equipment locker before you leave the premises, Sergeant. I can take you there.”

“Thanks, Paul.”

He took Julia’s hand, and the two of them followed the blond man down the corridor. As they waited for the elevator, Julia dropped her water bottle in a nearby trash can before walking back and bringing her lips close to Sebastian’s ear. “Thanks for not getting blown up, Seb.”

A smile tickled his lips. “You’re very welcome, Doc.”

* * *

Rather than return to their motel room, Sebastian and Julia checked in to a hotel on the other side of the city using Sebastian’s false identity. The only available room ended up being a suite with a huge Jacuzzi tub that brought a delighted grin to Julia’s face.

Sebastian loved seeing her so happy. She’d had a spring to her step ever since they’d left the Pentagon, and she was much cuddlier than usual. Linking arms when they walked, snuggling close during the car ride, planting a spontaneous and unbelievably passionate kiss on his lips in the hotel elevator. That kiss had succeeded in getting him harder than concrete, but neither of them had been in the mood for sex as they got settled in the suite.

They hadn’t slept for twenty-four hours, which was probably why they collapsed on the huge bed the moment they got to the hotel.

When Sebastian’s eyes opened hours later to find that it was pitch-black beyond the floor-to-ceiling window, he groaned with unhappiness.

Julia stirred beside him, her warm ass wiggling into his groin. “What’s wrong?” she asked sleepily.

“We’ve been sleeping for sixteen hours.”

“You’re lying.” She gave a loud yawn. “What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“That’s not too bad. We checked in only at six.”

“Eleven at night, Doc.”

That got her attention. Propping herself up on one elbow, she twisted around and stared at him in horror. “We wasted the entire day and night?”

“I wouldn’t call it a waste,” he pointed out. “We did need the rest.”

“Yeah, but...”

He cocked a brow. “But what?”

Julia’s cheeks went pink. “I was looking forward to spending all those hours in bed with you.”

“Technically, we were in bed.”

“You know what I mean.”

Before she could blink, he flipped her onto her back and slipped his hand underneath her T-shirt and inside her bra. When he found her nipple poking straight up, he groaned in approval. “I know exactly what you mean, baby.”

She let out a little laugh before squirming and shifting out from under him. “Well, now you can wait a bit longer. I’m hungry. Let’s order some room service. Oh, and I feel super-grimy and I kind of want to try out that Jacuzzi.”

He injected a seductive note into his voice. “How about we try out that Jacuzzi together, and we’ll peruse the room service menu while we do it?”

“Oooh, sounds like a plan.”

Five minutes later, they were doing precisely that. The tub was big enough for them to stretch out at opposite ends, but now Sebastian was the one feeling cuddly. Leaning against the porcelain tub, he opened his legs and pulled Julia into the cradle of his thighs, so that her back rested against his chest, her round bottom pressed into his groin and her legs tangled with his.

After they studied the menu, Sebastian set the plastic sheet on the edge of the sink and began running his hands over Julia’s slippery body. The jet directly behind him placed steady pulsing pressure against his back muscles. A naughty idea involving positioning one of those jets between Julia’s legs sent all the blood in his body down to his groin, a transformation that didn’t escape the woman in his lap.

Rubbing her butt on his growing erection, she let out a throaty laugh that echoed in the bathroom. “Food first,” she chided.

“Fine. Then at least let me get out so I can place our order.”

Her hands latched onto his thighs before he could move. “No way. I’m nice and comfy. We’ll order when we get out.”

She let her head fall back against his chest and sighed with pure and utter contentment. Sebastian rested his hands on her flat belly and let out a sigh of his own. The hot water felt incredible as it lapped over their naked bodies, and Julia’s loose hair floated around like strands of silk, tickling his shoulders and collarbone.

“I could stay like this forever,” she said happily.

His throat tightened. “Me, too.”

Christ. He really could stay with this woman forever. And maybe, just maybe, that was actually possible.

All the thoughts he’d put out of his mind before the takedown now came rushing back.

You’re the reason I’m alive.

It was true, wasn’t it? He’d been protecting Julia from the moment he’d heard the general say her name in Esperanza. Every dangerous situation they’d encountered, she’d come out of alive. And here she was, still safe. The woman he loved was safe in his arms, and for the first time in his life, he truly believed it could stay that way.

“Will you come back to Ecuador with me?” His gruff voice hung in the hot, moist air rising from the Jacuzzi.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. That one syllable left her mouth swiftly and without an ounce of uncertainty.

Sebastian had to smile. “You will?”

“Of course I will.” A note of sarcasm crept in. “Where else would I go?”

That gave him pause. “Wait—are you coming with me because you think you have nowhere else to go?”

“No, I’m coming with you because I can’t bear the thought of being away from you, dummy.”

A laugh popped out of his mouth. “You’re really mean sometimes, you know that?”

“I am not. I’m just honest.” She changed positions, turning around to straddle his lap, while those hazel eyes bore into his face, unwavering. “And because I’m being honest, I might as well tell you that this is about more than just sex for me. It stopped being about that a long time ago.”

The joy that streaked through his chest caught him by surprise, but once it registered, he realized he couldn’t deny it. Julia’s declaration made him happy.

Because he felt the same damn way.

“I understand why you’re scared of commitment,” she went on, her voice gentle, “but you need to know that you’re not cursed. You’re not the only one who’s lost people, Sebastian. I lost the two people I loved most in the world, and I’m sure if I try hard enough, I could link their deaths to something I’d said or done. Like Mia went to South Africa because of that one time I had PMS and told her she’d never cut it as a travel writer—” her expression grew pained “—which I totally regret saying, by the way, because she was an amazing writer. And I could easily say I’m to blame for my dad’s death because the night before his heart attack, we were at a restaurant for dinner and I talked him into ordering a sixteen-ounce steak, even though he was on a strict no-red-meat diet.”

Sebastian exhaled in a weary rush. Christ. It did sound ridiculous when she put it that way. And yet...yet he wasn’t ready to let go of that guilt. Wasn’t ready to admit that the burden of responsibility might fall elsewhere—or nowhere.

“We can take it slow,” she said, her hazel eyes shining with what he could only describe as faith. Faith in him. Faith in them. “No promises, no weddings. We’ll just see what happens. How does that sound?”

It was damn difficult speaking through the monstrous lump in his throat. “It sounds perfect.”

With a smile, Julia leaned in and brushed a fleeting kiss on his mouth. “Good. Now let’s get out of this tub and order some food. I’m ready to pass out if I don’t put something in my stomach.”

They stepped out of the Jacuzzi and dried off, slipping into a pair of complimentary terry cloth robes rather than getting dressed. Sebastian was all over the robe situation—he didn’t plan on letting Julia wear a stitch of clothing for the rest of the night. Or maybe ever again.

They both ended up ordering cheeseburgers and fries, along with a plate of onion rings to share. Probably wasn’t smart to eat such a heavy meal at midnight, but they were both starving, and Sebastian was just happy to see Julia eating. She’d filled out since he’d met her, which was ironic considering they’d been doing nothing but traveling and hiding out in motel rooms. Still, no matter where they’d been, he’d encouraged her to stuff her face, and his efforts showed in the rounding of her cheeks and the fact that he was no longer able to count each of her ribs.

“When you get a new assignment with the foundation, you’re not allowed to overwork yourself anymore,” he announced as he watched her munch on a French fry.

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, really? Who’s gonna stop me?”

“I will.” He shot her a mocking look. “I won’t be in hiding forever. Sooner or later, me and Tate and Nick will figure out who killed our unit and attempted to kill us, and once we find those bastards, I’ll be free to travel the world with you, Doc.”

The moment he said it, he realized just how much he wanted to do that.

Julia looked as surprised as he felt. “You really want to follow me all over the globe while I work for Doctors International?”

“Why not?” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never wanted a boring old nine-to-five job. My only ambition was to join the military, but I’m a tad soured by the United States Armed Forces at the moment. My military career is over, which means I’m free to do whatever the hell I want. And I told you, I’ve got a case of wanderlust.”

She tilted her head, intrigued. “But what would you do when I’m at the clinic?”

“Anything. Everything. Take pictures. Explore. Pick up odd jobs here and there if we run out of money.”

After a beat of silence, Julia’s beautiful face broke out in a smile. “I kind of like the sound of that.”

So did he. In fact, he couldn’t wait to start a life with this woman. Julia Davenport was the smartest, sexiest, kindest, sassiest woman he’d ever known. She’d fascinated him from the second he’d met her in Valero, and during their time together, she’d managed to breach his defenses. Make him yearn for something he hadn’t yearned for in years. Companionship. Laughter. Love.

As a wave of emotion swelled in his gut, he helped Julia gather up their empty plates, then dropped them on the room service cart and rolled it out to the hall.

He returned to the suite to find Julia lying in the center of the bed—and she wasn’t wearing her robe.

This time, as he made love to her, he didn’t hold back or fight those intense emotions. He opened his heart and welcomed all those feelings in. He thrust into Julia’s tight heat with long, languid strokes, gripping her upper thigh to prop her knee up so he could drive deeper. She moaned, and the glazed look in her eyes told him she was close.

Capturing her mouth, he gave her a long, reckless, tongue-tangling kiss that made her gasp, then quickened his pace and sent her flying over the edge. As she came apart beneath him, he threw himself over that same cliff, pleasure seizing his lower body before shooting out in all directions, until he was gasping, too.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms. Sebastian didn’t remember falling asleep, but when his eyes blinked open, it was suddenly morning again. Sunlight streamed into the room, blinding him, bringing a sharp ache to his head.

With a groan, he rubbed his temples, hoping the massage would soothe his headache.

“You’re like a furnace,” Julia mumbled.

Yeah, he did feel hot. And slightly lethargic, too, as he climbed out of bed so he wouldn’t disturb Julia. The clock on the night table read 7:39 a.m. Last time he remembered checking the clock it had been 3:00 a.m., which was probably why he was so exhausted. Sixteen hours of sleep the night before, then four and a half hours the next night. Clearly his REM cycle was all screwed up.

Sebastian left the bedroom and wandered to the other room of their suite, which featured a kitchenette, a living area and a dining table. Fortunately, the kitchen had a coffee maker, and a few minutes later, he was happily sipping on a cup of coffee, almost instantly feeling more alert.

Drifting toward the bedroom, he stood in the doorway and watched as Julia tried to find a comfortable position. One slender leg was poking out from the covers, and she was hugging a pillow as she rolled around on the white sheets, making soft little noises that brought a smile to his lips.

But the smile faded when a flash of red caught his eye.

“Julia,” he blurted out.

She stirred but didn’t open her eyes.

“Julia.” He spoke louder this time—it was the only way he could hear himself over the deafening pounding of his heart.

Those hazel eyes focused on him, sleepy and annoyed. “What?” she mumbled.

“You’re bleeding.”

Her ability to snap into a state of alertness was as honed as his. She sat up like she’d just been shot out of a cannon, fixed her gaze on the crimson stain marring the stark white pillow, and then her hands flew to her face. She touched her nostrils, her eyes widening, her lips parting in shock.

As icy-cold fear paralyzed every muscle in his body, Sebastian stood frozen in the doorway, seeing nothing but the two trails of blood pouring out of Julia’s nose.