Now he had to find her again and get past all her police friends—he could only imagine the lies she’d told them—so that he could kill her. That meant living, enduring this pain longer. How the fuck could he dothat?
Maybe he should kill himself and forget about MiaStarr.
He thought about that for a moment, imagined how sweet oblivion would be. But then Mia would get away with all of it. She would get away with betraying them. He couldn’t let thathappen.
Mia Starr had todie.
14
Mia’s first thought when she awoke was that she was terribly late for work. Then she opened her eyes to find herself staring at a cathedral ceiling of polished wooden planks with support beams ofpine.
Thecabin.
Kevin had given her a paid leave of absence—up to eight weeks—and Julian and Marc had brought her and Joaquin here last night. She’d met Jack, the former Army Ranger who owned this place and was letting them stay here. Afterthat…
That Vicodin had kicked herbutt.
She sat up, breath hissing between her teeth. It wasn’t just the graze near her hip that hurt, but her entire body. She felt sore, like she’d worked out too hard—the after-effects of a major adrenaline surge, shesupposed.
She glanced around, saw that she’d been sleeping in a massive king-sized bed with a rustic wooden headboard. A small electric clock on the nightstand told her it was seven-thirty. She took in the oriental carpets, the gleaming wooden floors, the closed blinds with sunlight streaking through. Her duffel bag sat next to a small desk, and there were photographs of horses on thewalls.
Hadn’t she heard that Jack West and his son bredhorses?
She got to her feet only to realize she was still wearing the scrubs the nurse had given her. She wanted a shower, but that couldn’t happen—not yet. She wasn’t supposed to get her wounds wet for twenty-four hours. Still, she could wash most of herself. She’d gotten good at taking a bath out of her canteen in Iraq. She could managethis.
She lifted her duffel bag onto the bed, took out the plastic tote that held her toiletries, walked into the en-suite bathroom—and stared. The floors were stone tile. The shower was separate from the tub and enclosed by glass walls. The jetted bathtub was big enough for two. There were two sinks with rustic brass faucets, the cupboards beneath made of wood that matched the walls, ceiling, andfloors.
A cabin with electricity, central heating, and a five-piece luxurybathroom.
When she’d heard “cabin,” she’d been expecting a dark, chilly space with an outhouse, hunting trophies, and a smoky fireplace. But, hey, she wasn’tcomplaining.
She found towels and washcloths hanging on a heated towel rack, filled the sink with hot water and undressed. She dipped a washcloth in the water—then caught sight of her reflection and stared. A dark bruise had spread beneath the bandage on her ribcage, and her hip was bruised, too. She looked down the front of her body, saw another bruise on her thigh—where had that come from?—and another on hershin.
She had never looked this beat-up inIraq.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, dark thoughts stirred. A man had tried to kill her yesterday, and he’d come close to succeeding. She shut those thoughts down. She’d fired back, and he’d run. She wasfine.
She washed her face and body, careful to keep her bandages dry. Then she rubbed moisturizer into her skin, put on deodorant, and walked back to the bed to dress. Certain she wouldn’t be able to handle jeans yet, she pulled out a pair of navy blue yoga pants and a purple fleece-lined pullover, her mind turning to that most important ofthings.
Coffee.
She opened the bedroom door—and found Joaquin still asleep on the sofa. She tiptoed over and stood there watching him, long lashes dark against his cheeks, bare shoulders peeking out from beneath the blanket. He’d slept here, giving her the bed, even though the sofa couldn’t have been comfortable for a six-foot-tallman.
As if he felt her watching him, his eyesopened.
“Mia.” He sat up, the blanket falling away to reveal his bare chest in all its heart-stopping glory. “How do youfeel?”
“Better.Sore.”
“I bet.” He stretched, the sight almost more than Mia couldtake.
She cleared her throat. “Did you sleepwell?”
“Yeah—once I was finally able to fallasleep.”
“This is a nice place.” She looked around, saw the woodstove, the blinds that covered a sliding glass door, the flat screen TV, the dining room, the kitchen with its stainless-steel appliances and walk-in pantry. “I can’t believe they’re just letting us stay here. If we’re staying in their cabin, where arethey?”
“This place?” Joaquin got to his feet, a big grin on his face, his body so close that she could feel his warmth. “It’snothing.”