Read Online Safe Harbor by Marie Ferrarella - Free Book Online Page B

negative attitude. The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question was still ahead. “Who shot you?”
    He raised his green eyes warily to her face.
    “I’m not sure.”
    Granted there had been a lot going on at the time, but he was fairly sure that he did know who had pulled the trigger. And that it was on the orders of Larry Crenshaw. But for now, he decided to keep that to himself because he still wasn’t sure just where he was or who this woman was—who she worked for. And until he was sure, he needed to play it very close to the vest.
    “Okay,” Stevi said gamely. “Do you know why you were shot?”
    Was she really just some beautiful Good Samaritan or was she pumping him to find out how much he remembered about the incident?
    His memory of the incident that had almost been his undoing was crystal clear, but if he claimed ignorance, it might buy him a little time.
    He went that route. “I don’t remember.”
    She just looked at him.
    After a beat, she said, “Yesterday, when I asked, you said the less I knew, the better. And now you’re telling me you don’t remember.” She pinned him with a look. “So which is it?”
    To be honest, he didn’t remember saying that, but he took her word for it.
    After thinking for a couple of moments, he said, “I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t remember. I thought it made me look stupid.”
    She supposed that could be plausible. And then again... “And you don’t care if you look stupid today?” she challenged.
    He shrugged his right shoulder. The other one appeared to want to mimic the movement, but pain prevented this...Mike...from moving it.
    “I thought I owed you the truth, since you’ve put yourself out so much for me. I guess that trumps looking stupid.”
    Stevi smiled. Finally, she was getting somewhere. Not a very productive somewhere, granted, but at least she was further along than she’d been yesterday. Baby steps, she told herself.
    “Thank you.”
    Uncomfortably, he waved away her thanks. “Who else knows I’m here?”
    “I was delaying the press release until this afternoon.” When she saw the startled expression on his face, she felt guilty. “That was a joke,” she said quickly. His expression returned to normal. She’d already labeled it “stoically good-looking.” “Sorry, no jokes until you’re stronger. Are you hungry? Do you want to clean up in the bathroom?”
    As if in direct response to her question, Mike’s stomach growled, reminding him that it had been close to two days since he’d eaten.
    “Sorry about that,” he mumbled.
    “I’ll take that as a yes to food,” she said. “I’ll get you some breakfast. Anything in particular you’d like to eat?”
    Food was food. He thought of it as fuel. “Whatever you bring back will be fine.”
    Stevi pushed aside the comforters on the floor for the time. She hesitated. “Promise you won’t go anywhere until I get back?”
    Mike answered her question with a question of his own. A rhetorical one. “You’re bringing back breakfast, right?”
    She flashed him a grin. “All right, then I’ll be as quick as I can.”
    Stevi left, closing the door behind her.
    Mike gave it to the count of ten. The door remained closed. Sitting up, he swung his legs out from beneath the covers. He was somewhat surprised, not to mention relieved, that he was still wearing his pants. That was one less thing he had to do, one less article of clothing he had to find.
    Where was his shirt?
    Scanning the room, he found it in a crumpled, bloody heap near the window, discarded by whoever had bandaged the wound in his chest.
    Had that been her? Stevi?
    Or the gardener she’d mentioned?
    He liked the idea of her being the one who had seen to his wound far more than someone who spent the day with his hands in fertilized dirt.
    “Probably owe my life to you, Stevi. Sorry I can’t stick around to thank you properly, but having me around probably isn’t safe for either of us,” he murmured.
    Standing up,