'Brett?' Dina dropped her open arms. 'You didn't kill your father. He—he—Ashley had a heart attack.'
'There are ways to fake a heart attack,' Brett said.
Nick knew he had a slight chance of catching Windsor off guard as long as Dina kept talking to him. He had to risk it. Now!
Nick jumped Brett. The 10 mm. flew out of Brett's hand and slid across the floor. The two men locked in a struggle of brute strength, fists pounding, knuckles crunching. Brett Windsor was no match for his bigger, stronger opponent. Nick landed one final blow, knocking Brett to the floor.
'Nick, the gun!' Dina yelled.
Then Addy screamed when she saw Brett's bloody hand reach out and grab the 10 mm. from where it had landed on the parlor floor. As if in slow motion, the scene reeled off in front of Addy. Still lying on the floor, Brett turned over, aimed the gun and fired at Nick. Dina ran across the room, her voluptuous body separating the two men. The bullet entered her neck. She fell forward, face down on the floor.
Another gunshot sounded. Ned Johnson stood in the doorway, his automatic in his hand. Brett Windsor lay lifeless, his blank stare facing the ceiling.
Rusty McConnell rushed over, cradling Dina in his arms. Blood gushed from her wound. Nick took a moment to check her condition. Brett's bullet had hit an artery.
'Johnson, get over here quick,' Nick said, then rushed to Addy.
While he busied himself cutting through the canvas belt, Nick heard Dina's dying words. 'Oh, Rusty, darling, forgive me. I—I never meant for—'
'Nick, are you all right?' Tears streamed down Addy's flushed cheeks.
'I'm fine, Red.' He kept sawing away at the belt. 'Johnson, you'd better get Rusty and Dina out of here. Fast.'
'We don't have much time, do we?' Addy asked.
'Enough,' Nick lied. Two minutes and counting down. The red numerals flashed a warning signal. Sweat coated the palms of Nick's hands.
Ned Johnson picked up Dina's lifeless body. 'Come on, Mr. McConnell. Let's get Dina outside and let Nick take care of things in here.'
'But Addy—' Rusty said.
'Nick's got everything under control,' Johnson assured D.B. McConnell.
'I can't leave Addy.' Rusty refused to budge.
Ned carried Dina's body outside, returning momentarily with two young agents who forcefully dragged an enraged D.B. McConnell out of the house.
Only another inch to cut through. Sweat poured off Nick's face. One minute. Fifty-nine seconds. Fifty- eight.
Addy knew time was running out. She said a silent prayer. God wouldn't let them die. Not now when they'd just found each other. 'Nick, I love you.'
Forty-six seconds. Cut. Forty-five. Cut. Forty-four. Cut. 'I love you, too, Red. I love you so damned much.' Forty seconds. Cut. Thirty-nine. Cut.
The last thread broke. The belt fell free. Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Grabbing the deadly canvas strap, Nick ran as fast as his bad leg would permit, praying with each faulty step that he'd make it outside in time. If Addy hadn't been hog-tied, he would have left the belt in the house and told her to run. Ten. Nine. Eight.
Reaching the veranda, he raised the belt high in the sky. Five. Four. With all the strength in his arm, he flung the bomb out into the wooded area, away from the house and away from the parked cars. He made it into the foyer when the explosion rocked the house, shattering several windowpanes.
'Nick! Nick!' Addy screamed his name over and over again.
Picking himself up off the floor, Nick hurried into the parlor, rushing to Addy's side. He bent down, cutting through the nylon cord that bound her. Pulling loose from the severed rope, Addy fell into Nick's open arms. She cried tears of happiness while Nick covered her face with frantic kisses.
'If anything had happened to you … if I'd lost you.' Nick's voice quivered with the strength of his feelings.
Addy reached out, covering his cheek with her hand. She felt the damp stickiness of his sweat, and then she felt something else. Running her fingers upward, she looked at Nick. Tears filled his eyes.
'I'm all right. You saved me.' She kissed him and hugged him and kept right on crying.
He held her in his arms, refusing to release her, even when Ned Johnson and Rusty McConnell came into the parlor. He wouldn't even let Rusty touch Addy. He couldn't bear the thought of letting her go. He'd never known what it was like to value someone else's life more than his own, to know that if she died, he didn't want to live, either. Addy McConnell was his whole world, and he was never going to let her out of his sight again. Not for the rest of their lives.
« ^
Addy had not left her father's side since the night Dina Lunden died, and Nick had kept watch over them both. Absorbing everything that had happened and coping with the aftereffects was something the three of them were going through together. Nick hadn't felt such a strong sense of family since he and Miguel were boys. The McConnells had taken him into their lives and into their hearts, and it was just where he wanted to be. But in the aftermath of the horror they'd endured, Nick began having doubts about the future.
He had finally admitted to himself and to Addy that he loved her. And he did. He loved her so much it hurt, but was he good enough for her? Was he worthy of her love and trust? He was a hard-living, cynical, self-centered SOB. She was a gentle, caring, giving woman. And she was a wealthy woman, heir to a multimillion-dollar empire. He had about a hundred thousand stashed away for a rainy day, but he could hardly offer Addy the lifestyle to which she was accustomed.
Guilt riddled his insides like a spray of buckshot. He blamed himself for the nightmare Addy had endured at Brett Windsor's hands. He had suspected the guy was capable of doing practically anything for money, but he'd allowed his past relationship with Dina to blind him to the possibility that she was an accomplice. Damn, he felt like a fool and could only imagine how Rusty McConnell felt. Addy's father had fallen in love with Dina and brought her into their lives. He had to feel guilty as hell.
Nick kept reliving the evening at the hospital when he'd left Addy in Alan Sturges's care. He'd had no idea he was risking Addy's life by trusting someone else to keep her safe. As long as he lived, he would hear Elizabeth Mallory's warning just before he and Addy had left Sequana Falls.
When Addy had needed him most, he had let her down. It was his fault that she'd almost died—that she'd come so close to being blown into a zillion pieces. Just the thought of it gave him cold sweats. He should have realized the NASP contract was nothing more than a red herring, which would have ruled out Gerald Carlton. And he should have realized sooner that Ron Glover might be devious enough to plot Addy's kidnapping, but he wasn't smart enough to plan it. If he'd known Janice Dixon better, he would have known she loved her cousin and uncle far too much to have done anything to harm them.
Dina. Damn the woman! And bless her, too. He had to give her credit. When it came right down to it, she hadn't been able to turn a blind eye and let Brett kill Addy. If Dina hadn't finally admitted the truth to Rusty, then Nick had no idea what would have happened. Rusty and Dina's arrival at Elm Hill, along with Ned Johnson and his FBI agents, had put an end to Brett's evil plans.
And there was one thing Nick knew for sure—he owed his life to Dina. She'd taken the bullet that had been meant for him. Maybe it had been her way of trying to make amends, her final chance for forgiveness. It seemed wrong, somehow, that a woman as vibrantly alive as Dina should have died so tragically. But if she had lived, what would the future have held for her? Prison? After all, she'd been an accomplice to two kidnappings and two murders.
'Almost everybody's gone.' Addy stood in the doorway of her father's den. 'Janice and Ron are still here, and as usual he's moody and surly.'
'How's Rusty? He seemed to hold up all right during the funeral.'
