Page 135 of Deadly Strain

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Paranoid much? No one is going to do anything to me for fear of getting sick.”

“Still waiting.”

“How’s Smoke?”

“He’s good. Sleeping.”

“Let me guess. As soon as Max gets here, you’re going to wake him up while you sleep so I can have a big, scary, silent Special Forces soldier stand guard over me.”

“Yep.”

She sighed. “How is...Colonel Marshall?”

Sharp’s grin drained away. “He didn’t make it. Died a couple of hours ago.”

“Oh.” Sorrow swamped her like a high tide. She hadn’t liked him, but she understood his grief for his son. Understood how it could eat at you and change the way you see the world.

“Stop that,” Sharp ordered.

“Stop what?”

“Beating yourself up over his death.Youdidn’t kill him.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I thought doctors learned to compartmentalize, disengage their emotions so they can treat sick people with objectivity and a clear head?”

“I seem to have lost all my objectivity when I met you.”

“Ah, I’m heartbroken.”

She was too tired to deal with his shit. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Nighty-night, Grace.”

He was smiling again. She could tell from his tone he was damn near gloating.

Asshole. She knew him now. “Just you wait until we play chess. You’re going to lose.”

His voice followed her into sleep. “Sweetheart, if I lose to you, I win.”

***

“Grace.”

She opened her eyes at her name. “Max.” She smiled. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour ago. I had to bribe your watchdog into going to sleep.”

“Smoke?”

“No, the other one, the sniper.” He snorted. “The silent one didn’t require much convincing.”

“I think Sharp was overtired.”

“His alertness was in no way responsible for his overprotective attitude,” Max told her in a tolerant tone. “He follows you around like a puppy.”

“He’snota puppy.”

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