“Both,” he told her honestly. “Kieran, I am what I am.”
“An agent first and always.”
No, not really, he thought, or I wouldn’t be here.
He pulled her closer, stroking her hair tenderly. He felt her body ease, felt her breathing grow rhythmic as she dozed.
It took him longer to sleep. And when he did, he dreamed that something was whizzing toward him through the air. Something moving faster than sound, faster than the speed of light.
But he was trying to catch it anyway. Catch it before it reached Kieran, who was standing directly in its path.
He realized then that it was a bullet.
And that no matter how fast he ran, he would never be able to stop it.
He woke drenched in sweat, frozen for a moment as he realized that they were both safe in her bed, in her apartment. She was still sleeping soundly in his arms.
And he knew that he had to make sure that bullet was never fired.
*
Kieran was never sure just how Craig always managed to see that things were arranged for her so easily—and apparently via telepathic communication. In this instance, she found Mike Dalton standing at her door just as it was time for her to go to work.
“He may be younger and cuter,” Mike told her, nodding in Craig’s direction, “but I’m your man this morning.”
He wasn’t in his usual suit; he was more casually dressed in jeans, a plaid shirt and a windbreaker.
“My man?” she asked, looking from one man to the other.
“I have to meet with Mayo this morning,” Craig said. “Mike will stay with you this morning, and this afternoon he’ll be spelled by another agent, Marty Salinger.”
“Marty is kind of a pain-in-the-ass kid, but he’s a good agent,” Mike assured her.
“I have twenty-four-hour bodyguards?” she asked.
“Someone did try to kill you—we’re all agreed on that,” Craig said.
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it,” Kieran told them, and smiled in unexpected relief. It was nice to feel protected. “In fact, I like it.”
“Good,” Mike said enthusiastically. “In that case, Miss Finnegan, shall we?”
“I’ll see you tonight,” Craig told her. “And you’ll know it’s me—whether it’s me or not,” he promised.
She didn’t argue with him.
“Could we stop by the hospital to see Bobby?” she asked Mike as they walked down the stairs.
“Your chariot awaits, Miss Finnegan. I’m at your disposal,” he said. “No problem with getting to work late?”
“I helped with a situation yesterday, so I’m sure they’ll comp me the time.”
Once they were in the car, Kieran excused herself to Mike and put a call through to the office to ask Jake to explain to their employers why she was going to be late.
Dr. Miro took the phone from Jake almost immediately. “Kieran? I gather you’ll be in late today.”
“Yes. I hope it’s all right.”
“You take all the time you need. I just heard from Tanya Lee Hampton’s attorney, and Tanya is out on bail, reunited with her children for the time being. You did that, didn’t you? How on earth did you manage it?”
Kieran looked over and saw Mike’s curious eyes on her. Dr. Miro’s voice seemed to be exceptionally loud; he could probably hear her. “I, um, know some good people,” she told Dr. Miro. “Of course, if she doesn’t show for her court date, I’ll be down one friend.”
“She’ll show. I have no doubt of it. I understand you have to redo your report?”
Kieran winced at that. She’d hated lying to Ms. Terry, but she’d had no choice. Now she had to deal with the consequences of that lie.
“I just need to add a few more details,” Kieran murmured.
“Fine. You take all the time you need this morning. If you can give me that finished report by this afternoon, that will be fine,” Dr. Miro said.
“Of course,” Kieran agreed.
Mike was still watching her as she hung up. She glanced over at him. “A client my bosses took on pro bono. Dr. Miro is passionate about helping abused women.”
“So why is she the one in jail?” Mike asked.
“She, um, she cut off her husband’s penis.”
“And she was the abused one?” Mike said, startled.
“No, she was arrested for that. She called 911 right away. Saved his life and his penis.”
“How...nice,” Mike said.
“Believe me, if you knew what he’d done to her, you’d applaud what she did.”
“I don’t know about that, but I’m sure you deal with some pretty awful stuff,” he told her.
“So do you.”
“Yep. But sometimes we get to make it right.” He grinned at her and nodded toward a neon ticker tape on the building they were passing. “‘Any decent person would lend a hand,’” he said.
She groaned. “Why couldn’t I have thought of something else to say?”
“You saved a woman’s life.”
“Only fair, since it turns out I was the intended victim,” she said. “Trust me, I’m no hero. I just reacted without thinking.”
Mike smiled. “Hey, courage is a strange thing. It’s stupidity, not courage, to put yourself in danger without considering the consequences. Courage, as we’ve all heard, is doing the right thing even when we’re afraid.”
She grinned at him.