Midnight Rescue: A Killer Instincts Novel by Elle Kennedy Page A

closing in around her.
    It hurt. Everything hurt—
    Then it didn’t.
    He was off her. Where had he gone?
    She suddenly saw the shadow at the foot of the bed. The gleaming silver chain around a thick, corded neck.
    “No,” she murmured, spitting blood from her mouth. “No, please…”
    The shadow cast over her, bending down, reaching for her.
    She slapped away the hands. “Please… don’t… no… no!” She clawed at him, spat at him, ripped that chain off his neck. She clasped the tiny medal attached to the chain, trying to jam it into the shadow’s eyes. His hands gripped her waist. He was carrying her away.
    “Abby.”
    “Ted, no! Please don’t—”
    A sharp sting in her cheek. “For Christ’s sake, Abby, wake the fuck up.”
    Her eyelids flew open, but the nightmare followed her into consciousness. A shadow over her bed. She instinctively released a right hook.
    Kane easily deflected the blow.
    “Don’t make me slap you again,” he said roughly.
    She struggled for breath.
Inhale. Exhale. Breathe, Abby.
    “Kane?” she finally whispered.
    “At your service.” He sank down at the edge of the bed. “That must have been some nightmare. I heard you screaming all the way from my bedroom.”
    It took a few more seconds to orient herself. She was in one of the guest bedrooms in Morgan’s compound. She’d come up here after Noelle left, to lie down for a bit. She remembered Lloyd bringing her some soup, which she’d dutifully eaten since she needed to regain her strength. And then she must have passed out, seeing as how the red numerals on the bedside alarm clock told her it was past midnight.
    “I…” She sucked in another lungful of oxygen. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
    “I’m not the one who’s disturbed here.” He paused. “You called out the name Ted.”
    “I did?” Damn it. She hadn’t said Ted’s name out loud in years.
    “Was he one of your foster fathers?”
    “How… how did you know that?”
    “Morgan mentioned you were in foster care before you were adopted.”
    “Oh.” She swallowed, desperate to bring some moisture back to her throat. God, that dream had come out of left field. She never dreamed about Ted anymore.
    Not since Jeremy had killed the son of a bitch.
    “Come on, let’s go downstairs and get you something to drink.” He reached for the sheet covering her body, then cursed under his breath. “Shit. You must have torn a stitch with all that flailing around.”
    She glanced down and saw the dark stain on the front of her T-shirt. The coppery odor stung her nostrils, butwhen she took a deep breath, she noticed another scent. A masculine one. Spicy, bold, and erotic. Kane.
    The heat returned to her body. Damn it. She wanted that warm flicker of desire to go away already.
    Kane’s hands were suddenly on her stomach, lifting the shirt up to her breasts. She held her breath as his fingers trailed over her exposed skin. “You’re in luck. It wasn’t the stitches. One of the scabs ripped open a little. I’ll get a first-aid kit and we’ll clean it right up—” His words halted when he felt her stiffen. “For God’s sake, I’m not going to have my way with you.”
    She met his gaze. “No?”
    “No.” He looked ready to say something more, but then cursed again and stood up. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
    She took another deep breath, this time to calm the strange rush swelling inside her. By the time he returned with a small first-aid kit in his hands, she’d managed to get her hormones under control. This time when he touched her, she remained calm.
    “The doctor in Bogotá gave us some ointment for you,” Kane said gruffly, cleaning the cut on her stomach with rubbing alcohol and gauze. “It’s for the welts. He said they might get itchy once they scab over. I’ll bring you the ointment in the morning.”
    “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    He finished tending to the welt in silence, dressing it with a thin piece of gauze and taping