Page 52 of A Rogue Cowboy's Kiss

Fear began to rise in her. She’d lost before. She couldn’t lose again.She couldn’t.

She eased around the corner of the house toward the beach, then immediately ducked back into the shadows. Two dark shapes were stretched out on the beach, not moving. Men? Falcon?

Oh, God.

She paused to scan the beach, looking for any signs of anyone else, but she sensed nothing. No one.

She was an idiot to do this. She knew she was. Except Falcon was hers, and she never left anyone behind. None of the Harts did.

Gun ready, she took a breath, and then burst out of the shadows and sprinted across the sand.

Two men were face down in the sand.

One was a man she didn’t know, all in black. His face was battered—from Falcon’s fists? He was utterly motionless. Dead? She had a bad feeling.

The other was Falcon. His eyes were closed, his face was also battered, and he had blood spreading on his T-shirt on his left side.

Oh,God.She crouched beside him, scanning the beach. “Falcon,” she whispered. “Wake up.”

He didn’t move.

She put her hand in front of his mouth, and felt the movement of his breath.

Alive.

She needed to get them out of there. Men like the one Falcon had fought with rarely worked alone. And someone would at least know he was there. “Falcon!” She shoved his shoulder, and he groaned.

Yes.“Get up,” she whispered. “We’re in danger. Get up.”

His eyes snapped open, and he lunged to his feet, then stumbled and almost fell. “They found us. We gotta go.”

“I know.” She threw his arm over her shoulder so she could support him, but he didn’t lean on her. He shoved her to his left side so his gun hand was free, still in protector mode.

Both of them with their guns ready, they made it across the sand as fast as his compromised body would allow, continuously scanning the beach.

“My car. I’ll drive,” she said.

“Mine. It’s got supplies.”

Of course it had supplies. The man had lived on the run for twenty years, and she’d gotten soft. “Okay. I’m driving.”

He didn’t argue with that one, and he almost fell into the passenger seat when she got him in it. She helped him belt in, then ran around to the driver’s side, jumped in, and started the truck.

She hit the gas, peeling out as she whipped the truck around, over the lawn, and raced out onto the main road. Falcon gripped the door to keep from sliding, continuously looking out the back window while she drove.

After about ten minutes of tense silence, he turned forward again. “Only one guy today.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No. I don’t think so. Maybe.” He closed his eyes. “The fucker stabbed me. I heard him working on the front door and when I went to get him, he stabbed me.”

“Did you stab him back?”

“Didn’t have a knife. But I can kill a man with my pinkie, so it was fine.” He closed his eyes. “You good?”

“Fantastic.” How had she not heard that fight? How had she slept through it? Years of sleeping on the ranch had made her too relaxed, apparently. This was why she wanted to be off the ranch? So she could have someone try to stab her?

Oh, wait, they’d broken into the ranch first. So, safety outside. No, they’d found her here, too. So, safety nowhere. “Do you need a doctor?”

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