A swarm of Secret Service men rushed to shield him. People scrambled off the platform like frightened geese, their arms flapping for balance as they jumped, their faces twisted with fear. The red, white and blue banner attached to the table tore and fluttered to the floor. But no one noticed, they ran right over it.
Desperate, Ryan pushed his way through the crowd surging toward him, determined to find Tess. To save her.
He found her stretched out on her back a few yards away, her arms flung out from her side. The gun lay next to her.
Her hair had spilled from its elegant upsweep and lay fanned across her face, hiding her behind a pale veil. His heart pounding, Ryan knelt beside her and gently brushed the hair out of her eyes. Her eyes were closed, her face turned away.
It was then that he noticed the wet patch darkening the red of her dress, a sinister patch of black spreading along her entire left side. He could barely breathe as reality hit him.
She’d been hit.
As he bent to touch her, someone rounded him from behind, knocking him sideways. He fell to his knees, his palms skidding on the smooth tiles.
“Facedown on the floor,” a voice ordered.
Ryan glanced up. Five or six men in suits and guns drawn surrounded him.
“She’s hurt. Let me help. I’m a doctor-”
From behind, someone jammed a foot into his shoulder and sent Ryan face first onto the floor. His cheek hit hard and for a moment his world tilted crazily.
“You don’t need to do anything, buddy. Just stay down and stay quiet.” The agent’s foot stayed firmly wedged against his shoulder, pressing him to the floor.
Ignoring the command, determined to reach Tess, Ryan snaked a hand across the tiles to her. Nothing anyone said or did would stop him from getting to her. He had to know. He had to see if she was still alive.
He pressed his fingers to the side of her neck. Nothing. He wiggled forward a millimeter more, disregarding the increased pressure of the foot on his back. He moved his fingers along the warm skin of her neck, searching for a sign, any sign of life.
His own pulse pounded in his ears.
But he felt nothing. No flutter. No movement.
The man standing over him ground his foot into his back, emphasizing that he meant for him to stop moving. But Ryan crawled another fraction of an inch forward, trying one final time.
He needed to believe that he wasn’t too late. That she hadn’t already slipped away from him before he could reach her. Before he could tell her that she had beaten Flynn. Before he could tell her he loved her.
And then, beneath the tips of his fingers, he felt a faint fluttering beat. A relief so sharp and so painful Ryan thought he might die from the ecstasy of it rushed through him.
She was alive.
Her eyes opened, and he stared into the familiar green of her gaze. She smiled, a slight, one-sided lift of her mouth. “I didn’t think you’d get here in time,” she whispered, her voice raspy, barely above a whisper. “I kept thinking, what will I do without Ryan around to rescue me?”
He slid his hand up the side of her neck to gently stroke the soft paleness of her cheek. “You’ll never know because I plan on being here for a long time to come.”
He lifted his head toward the group standing around them. “Get an ambulance,” he shouted. “She needs medical attention now!”
No one moved, their eyes as hot and dangerous as molten steel just poured from the mold.
“Then let me help her. I’m a doctor.” No movement. Another foot had joined the first to keep him pinned to the floor. “At least let me stop the bleeding.”
His answer came when someone pulled his arms behind his back and a pair of handcuffs were snapped onto his wrists. Ryan bucked, trying to pull away, but they yanked him away from Tess and stood him on his feet.
“You won’t be helping her or anyone else,” one of the agents said. “If I was you, I’d be more concerned about my own hide.”
Ryan twisted his body and tried shoulder-butting one of the men, but they immediately converged on him, subduing him.
“Don’t fight them, Ryan,” Tess said. “Just do as they say.” Her voice had slipped a few notches as her strength seemed to seep away with each word spoken.
As he watched helplessly, her eyes closed and she drifted off. “Let me help her,” he begged, no longer fighting. “She’ll bleed out.”
One of the men bent down and pressed a tablecloth from a nearby table against her side in a futile effort to stop the bleeding.
“Get out of my way,” someone ordered from across the terrace.
Ryan looked up to see another man break through the crowd and stride toward them. He was about fifty-seven or fifty-eight, and upon reaching them, he immediately crouched down next to Tess, his big shoulders hunching a bit as he leaned forward to tenderly brush her hair back. His fingers trailed across her forehead in a touch very similar to a caress.
“Paramedics are on their way up, sir,” the agent, who was applying pressure to the wound, said anxiously.
The older man nodded, never lifting his head.
His face, a map etched deep with the lessons of life, softened as he whipped off his jacket and gently lifted Tess’s head to tuck it under. The revolver clipped to a holster nestled in the small of his back told Ryan he was an agent. The way the other agents deferred to him told him the man was probably in charge.
Across the terrace, the crowd parted like obedient lemmings and two paramedics burst through. Their heavy packs bobbed against their hips as they ran up.
The older man stood up, seeming to sense that he was only in the way. One of the paramedics took over from the younger agent, who was applying pressure.
His attention turned to the men holding Ryan. “Get him over to the hospital. I’m going in the ambulance. I’ll question him there.”
“Forget it. I’m going in the ambulance, too.” Ryan tried to shake off the two men holding him.
The older agent’s gaze, grave and infinitely weary, ticked over to meet Ryan’s. Unlike a moment ago when he’d paused to stroke Tess’s face and his sadness seemed overwhelming, nothing in his face revealed what he was thinking. “You’ll go where I say you go, Donovan. I don’t have time for you right now. Tess is my main concern.”
He turned away.
Ryan didn’t care how the man knew his name, but the fact that he seemed concerned about Tess calmed him some. He strained to see past the senior agent and over the heads of the two paramedics. One was hooking her up to a heart monitor and the other one was starting an IV. They’d already slapped on a pressure bandage. The reassuring beat of her heart playing out across the monitor’s screen helped Ryan believe that she’d make it to the hospital.
“At least let me go with her to the hospital to make sure she’s okay. Then I’ll answer any questions you have.”
For a moment he thought he saw a flicker of compassion in the old guy’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as it registered. He turned away, pointedly ignoring him and blocking his view of Tess.
“Get him out of here,” he ordered.
The two agents guarding him stepped up and pulled him after them. No amount of protesting had any effect. Ryan was forced off the terrace, forced to leave Tess’s side.
Chapter Sixteen
“Tess. Wake up, Tess.”
Tess pulled herself up out of the wet, clinging darkness and stretched to reach the voice calling to her.
