Out of Time Read online

  There was something in his voice that made her think he wasn’t talking about his defensive—or offensive, in his case—skills, but she pretended not to hear it. Her eyes raked over him. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’ll terrify her.”

  “Not up for negotiation, sweetheart.”

  She bristled at the endearment, but she wasn’t going to let him get under her skin. That was exactly what he was trying to do. “Fine. But stand to the side and let me do the talking.” She looked him up and down. “And try to smile or something. Don’t be so threatening.”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “You don’t need to do anything. Just standing there you look dangerous. It’s your superpower.”

  He smiled, which made her immediately regret asking for him to do so. Colt’s smiles were so rare they always made her heart do silly things.

  The smile came with a knowing look. “That isn’t my superpower.”

  She was about to ask what was and snapped her mouth shut. If the way that look was making her body heat was any indication, she didn’t want to know.

  She did know.

  Damn him! She turned and started—stomped—up the path. The address belonged to an apartment building in what might be nicely called a “transitional” neighborhood. Joelle was in number twelve, which was on the second floor.

  Kate knocked, but no one answered. As it was almost nine o’clock, she had hoped to find her home. That was why she’d traveled tonight rather than waiting until morning.

  “What now?” Colt said. “You want to wait her out?”

  Kate didn’t get a chance to reply. A door opened next door and a head popped out. It belonged to a heavyset woman in her early to mid-forties with pale, freckled skin and dyed red hair who looked as if she’d just woken up. “What’s all this racket out here?”

  “We’re sorry to disturb you,” Kate said, coming around to stand in front of Colt. Although from the way the woman was eyeing him appreciatively, she probably hadn’t needed to worry. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one in the place with a looks-like-a-gunslinger attraction problem. “We’re looking for Joelle.”

  “She ain’t here.”

  Kate tried to hide her disappointment. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  The woman hesitated.

  “It’s important,” Colt said. “We’d really appreciate it.”

  It wasn’t flirtatious . . . exactly. But it didn’t need to be. Kate had been on the receiving end of enough of those dark, penetrating stares to know the raw, masculine magnetism that went along with them.

  The woman looked at Colt and her gaze went back to Kate, taking in the heels, silk blouse, skirt, and pearls. Kate didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. They didn’t go together. They never had. If only she’d accepted it sooner.

  “She’s at the hospital,” the woman finally said. “The ambulance took her away earlier.”

  Colt swore. “What happened?”

  The woman shrugged. “Dunno. I was trying to sleep. I work nights.”

  Kate and Colt looked at each other, obviously both fearing the same thing. Had the men who’d killed Travis gotten to her, too?

  * * *

  • • •

  Kate’s fear turned out to be unwarranted. It wasn’t the guys who’d killed Travis who were responsible for putting Joelle in the hospital; it was her pregnancy.

  They’d arrived at the hospital after visiting hours, but Kate’s CIA badge got them the access they needed. As this wasn’t exactly a sanctioned operation, using her credentials was a risk, but the woman barely glanced at it before waving them toward Joelle’s room. A glance at Joelle’s chart showed that she’d been admitted for early contractions. The doctors had given her terbutaline and the contractions appeared to be under control. Joelle was scheduled to be discharged tomorrow.

  She was sleeping when they came in. There was another bed, but Colt looked around the curtain to check and shook his head. No one was there.

  Kate’s first impressions were that Joelle looked young and vulnerable. Except for the big bulge of her stomach there wasn’t much to her. She was slight of figure and of features, with wispy, dirty blond hair, pale skin, and a small turned-up nose. She couldn’t be more than an inch or two above five feet.

  Her eyes when she opened them were green and definitely her best feature. They were striking.

  Fortunately Colt was out of eyesight when Joelle woke—she was startled enough by Kate. But she took in her businesslike appearance and relaxed. Until she saw Colt.

  She tensed, her knuckles white as she gripped the sheets. Her eyes widened with fear. “Who are you? What are you doing in my room?”

  Kate moved to calm her down, putting a gentle hand on the foot of her bed. “I’m Kate. This is my . . . uh . . .” She settled on what she thought would relax the other woman. “Husband, Colt.”

  Joelle couldn’t hide her surprise. “You two are married?” She looked back and forth between them. “For real?”

  It wasn’t the first time their being married had provoked that reaction.

  Colt appeared to be taking Kate’s “try not to be threatening” advice because he sat down in a chair. “Believe me. I don’t know what she ever saw in me, either.”

  He said it with a wry smile that was directed at Joelle, but his eyes were all for Kate.

  She felt a fresh stab in her chest and pushed it away. Damn him. She wasn’t going to let him do this to her.

  But he always did this to her.

  Turning back to Joelle, Kate could see from the conspiratorial lift of her brows that she knew exactly what Kate had seen in him. Even looking like hell, Colt was hot. Bad boy, “I’m going to break your heart” hot, but undeniably hot. Six foot four, two-twenty—95 percent of that heavily stacked muscle—dark hair, green eyes, with a face that belonged on a movie screen, there wasn’t a lot not to like.

  Except the attitude. Remember the attitude.

  “Whaddaya two want then?” Joelle asked with a Mississippi accent that was every bit as heavy as Travis’s had been.

  Kate had met the young SEAL only a few times, but he’d been a good kid with simple but strong values: God, country, family. In that order.

  She inched a little closer to Joelle and rested her hand on the bed rail. “We wanted to talk to you about Travis Hart.”

  Any friendliness in Joelle’s expression was immediately replaced by wariness and defensiveness. “It was you! You’re the one who called me!” Tears filled her pretty eyes. “You’re going to tell me he’s dead, aren’t you? That’s why you’re here?”

  The girl—for Kate was guessing she couldn’t be much older than twenty—was instantly distressed. Kate tried to calm her, glancing anxiously at the monitors. She wasn’t sure how to read them, but she knew the jump in activity and beeping couldn’t be good. “Relax,” Kate said. “Breathe deeply. We aren’t here to upset you—or your baby.”

  Was that what had landed her in here in the first place? Kate hoped it hadn’t been her phone call, but she suspected it was.

  She felt a twist of guilt and was relieved when the sounds and activity on the monitors started to abate.

  Joelle was crying and gripping Kate’s hand something fierce, but the deep, even breaths were helping.

  “He’s really dead, isn’t he?” She was watching Kate when her gaze flicked to Colt. “I heard about the training accident, but it sounded like some kind of government cover-up so I was hoping that . . .” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “But I knew. He would have called me back if he was alive. He swore he’d take care of me if I went through with it.”

  Colt gave Kate a nod, but she would have told Joelle anyway. This girl and her baby deserved an answer, and she wasn’t going to lie to her and give her false hope. Kate nodded. “I’m sorry.”

&nbs