From the Heart

position; he won’t move—at least for a while.”
    “Who?” she demanded. “What are you talking about?”
    He brought his eyes to hers briefly, chilling her with the hard, cold look she’d seen before. “The man who just took a shot at you.”
    She went as still and stiff as a statue. “No one did, I didn’t hear—”
    “He’s got it silenced.” Slade shifted just enough to get a clearer view of the beach steps. “He’s a pro, he’ll wait us out.”
    Jessica remembered the odd sound she’d heard just as Slade had shoved her to the ground. Stone hitting stone. Bullet hitting rock. A wave of dizziness swept over her, clouding her vision until she saw nothing but a gray mist. From a distance she heard Slade’s voice and struggled against the faintness. Heart pounding in her ears, she focused on him again. He was still looking beyond her to the beach steps.
    “ . . . that we know he’s there.”
    “What?”
    Impatiently, Slade looked down at her. There wasn’t a trace of color in her face. Against the pallor, her eyes were dull and unfocused. He couldn’t allow her the luxury of going into shock. “Snap out of it and listen to me,” he said harshly, catching her face in his hand. “Odds are he doesn’t know we’ve made him. He probably thinks we’re back here making love. If my cover was blown, he’d have taken care of me instead of waiting to get a clear shot at you. Now you’ve only got to do one thing, Jess, understand?”
    “One thing,” she repeated with a nod.
    “Stay put.”
    She nearly gave way to a hysterical giggle. “That sounds like a good idea. How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?”
    “You stay until I get back.”
    Her arms came around him quickly and with desperate strength. “You’re not going out there! He’ll kill you.”
    “It’s you he wants,” Slade said flatly as he pried her arms away from his neck. “I want you to do exactly as I say.”
    He wriggled on top of her and managed to shrug out of his jacket, then the shoulder holster. After tugging his shirt out of his jeans, he tucked the gun in the back waistband. “I’m going to stand up, and after a minute I’ll walk over to the steps. He’ll either think you wouldn’t play games or that we’re finished and you’re staying out for a while.”
    She didn’t hold on to him because she knew it was useless. He was going to do it his own way. “What if he shoots you?” she asked dully. “A hell of a bodyguard you’d make dead.”
    “If he’s going to, he’ll do it the minute I stand up,” Slade told her, cupping her face again. “Then you’ll still have the gun, won’t you?” He kissed her, hard and quick, before she could speak. “Stay put, Jess. I’ll be back.”
    He rose nonchalantly, still looking down at her. Jessica counted ten long, silent seconds. Everything in her system seemed to be on slow motion. Her brain, her heart, her lungs. If she breathed at all, she was unaware of it. She lay in a vacuum of fear. Slade grinned at her, a flash of reassurance that didn’t reach his eyes. Numbly she wondered if the smile was for her benefit or for the man in the grove.
    “No matter what, you stay where you are.” With this he turned away from her and strolled easily to the beach steps. He hooked his thumbs lazily in his pockets as if every muscle in his body wasn’t tensed, waiting. A thin stream of sweat rolled down his back.
    A hell of a bodyguard you’d make dead. Jessica’s words played back to him as he forced himself to take the steps slowly. He knew how close that one silent bullet had come. He was taking a chance coming out in the open, not only with himself, but with Jessica.
    Calculated risk, Slade reminded himself. Sometimes you played the odds. He counted the steps off. Five, six, seven . . . . It wasn’t likely the gunman had the rifle trained on him now. He’d be waiting for Jessica to make a move from behind the clump of rocks. Ten, eleven, twelve . . . . Did she listen this time? he thought with a quick flash of panic. Don’t look back. For God’s sake don’t look back. There was only one way left to keep her safe.
    The moment he reached the top, Slade drew out his gun and dashed for the trees.
    The carpet of dried leaves would betray him. Slade counted it a mixed blessing. It would distract the man’s mind from Jessica. He took a zigzagging pattern toward the place where he had spotted the flutter of white. Just as he dashed behind an