Simon Says Die

gurney, while an EMT pressed a white piece of gauze against his chest. The gauze came away bright red, and Madison’s breath caught at the sight. She clutched her hand to her own chest, and swallowed past the tightness in her throat. Thank God the bullet had gone clean through his side without hitting anything vital.
    What was he thinking to risk his life like that— for her? And what was he doing in Georgia in the first place? He should have been safe at home in Jacksonville instead of playing hero.
    Her stomach rebelled when the EMT pressed a fresh piece of gauze against the jagged flesh. She held her hand against her mouth, willing the nausea away. Blood had never bothered her before, but this was Pierce . The thought of him hurt—especially because of her—made her stomach churn.
    Like a horror movie, the shooting played through her mind in slow motion—the deep-throated boom of the gun, the high-pitched whistle of the bullet, the sickening thud as Pierce fell to the ground.
    His brow furrowed. “You okay?”
    â€œHow can you possibly be worried about me? You’re the one who got shot.”
    An amused smile flashed across his face.
    â€œThis isn’t the least bit funny,” Madison said. “Why weren’t you wearing a vest? You’re an FBI agent, for goodness’ sake. You should always wear your vest. You shouldn’t . . . you shouldn’t . . . you just . . .” she sputtered into silence.
    â€œI never thought I’d see you speechless. And I didn’t realize seeing you again would be so dangerous. Next time, I’ll wear body armor.”
    â€œStop treating this like a joke. You could have been killed.”
    His smile faded and he gave her a puzzled look. “I’m okay. Stop beating yourself up.”
    She clenched her hands and looked past him to the red and blue lights flashing on the police cars behind the ambulance. Lieutenant Hamilton stood with three uniformed officers, talking in low tones next to one of the cars. Even though he’d already taken Madison’s statement, the lieutenant’s suspicious gaze never wavered from her as he spoke to his men.
    When she’d answered his questions a few minutes ago, he hadn’t believed her any more than when he’d questioned her earlier in the week. She’d been telling him the truth before.
    But not now.
    He wouldn’t believe her if she told him the truth. She wasn’t sure she believed it herself. The gunman couldn’t be who she thought he was. It wasn’t possible.
    Was it?
    She turned back toward Pierce, just as the EMT pressed a piece of tape over the bandage across his right side. Pierce’s lips whitened.
    â€œThat must really hurt,” Madison said.
    â€œIt’s just a scratch.”
    â€œIt’s a bit worse than that, Special Agent Buchanan.” The EMT helped Pierce into a sitting position then began to bind his chest with white gauze. “You’ve got a couple of busted ribs.”
    Madison’s stomach clenched again. This wouldn’t be the first time Pierce had broken a rib, or even the first time he’d been shot. His body was covered with battle scars from his years in law enforcement tracking down the worst kinds of violent offenders.
    She’d tried to coax him to tell her how he’d gotten all his injuries, however, getting him to talk about himself was about as easy as getting her mother to ignore a sale at Macy’s.
    When her gaze traveled past his short dark hair, her pulse began to race for an entirely new reason. She mentally glided down the path her fingertips had traced so many times—over his hard bare chest, across the ripples of his stomach muscles, to the top of his waistband. Unwelcome heat flashed through her.
    She raised her gaze and saw the same heat reflected back in his whisky-colored eyes. She sucked in a breath and looked away, only then noticing that the EMT had stopped his work and was glancing curiously between them. Madison returned his stare until his neck turned red, his fingers fumbling with the gauze.
    Pierce grinned and shook his head.
    That familiar, sexy smile sent a sharp jolt of longing through Madison. Her belly tightened as a memory teased her senses—that same sexy smile curving his lips as he bent over her in bed, the last time they’d made love.
    â€œAren’t you cold?” Frustration added a sharp edge to her voice. She was