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Mine to Hold


Austin whirled toward Noah. He brought his gun up, aiming right at Noah.


“No!” Claire screamed.


Austin’s hand jerked.


Claire fired her weapon even as Austin shot at Noah. Her bullet hit Austin in the shoulder, and he stumbled, falling forward.


Claire raced past him, hurrying toward Noah. He’d fallen too. Please, God, not Noah, not Noah.


Noah’s head lifted. “Fucking asshole!” And he tried to charge at Austin.


Claire threw her arms around Noah. He was alive. He was safe. They were both alive. “I love you.” The words burst from her.


Noah stiffened. His arms tightened around her then, squeezing her so much that he stole her breath.


“No!” Austin’s snarling voice. “You don’t escape, Claire! Not this time!”


She tried to look back, but Noah grabbed Claire and shoved her behind him.


“Neither of you escape,” Austin shouted.


Noah had put his body in front of Claire. He’d yanked the gun from her hand.


Gunshots filled the night.


But…


Austin’s gun had been equipped with a silencer. She shouldn’t have been able to hear so many shots. Claire craned her neck to see around Noah.


“No one shoots my partner.”


She looked to the left. Lane was there, standing on the balcony, his weapon still drawn. Pointed at Austin.


Her gaze flew back to Austin. He was on his feet, but staggering. Under the lights of the balcony, she could see the dark balloon of blood on his chest. From several wounds.


Noah had a gun aimed at Austin, too. Noah and Lane had both shot the guy. That was why she’d heard the sound of so many gunshots.


Austin sank to his knees. “Claire…”


“Go to hell,” she whispered back to him.


And, he did. Austin tumbled back, and the blood pooled beneath him.


***


“You’re going to be okay.”


Claire’s head turned at the husky words. Gwen had just been loaded onto a stretcher, and Lane was right beside her, holding tightly to her hand.


“It’s barely a scratch, love,” Lane told her. “Just another kick-ass battle wound for you to show off to the guys back in D.C.”


Claire stepped toward them. Gwen’s eyes were open. She whispered something to Lane—


“I love you, too,” he told her as he bent to kiss her hand.


Then the EMTs wheeled Gwen out of the suite. Claire watched her go, frozen, heart-sick. Gwen had been hurt because of her. A hotel bellman had been found with a gunshot wound to the head. When Austin had said that he had tied up loose ends, the sonofabitch had meant it.


His body was still out on the balcony. Cops and crime scene techs swarmed around him.


“Are you okay?” At the gruff question, Claire looked up and found Drake standing near the doorway.


She nodded.


“Claire…” He sighed her name. “Stop trying to bullshit me.” Then she found herself being yanked into his arms. “You look like you’re about to shatter.”


She felt that way. “I-I thought Austin wasn’t like them.” Maybe that was what hurt the most.


“Noah wants you out of here.” Easing back, Drake stared down at her. “He has to talk with the cops, but he wanted me to take you downstairs so you’d be safe.”


And all she wanted was…Noah.


She’d told him that she loved him. She hadn’t meant for those words to spill out. In that one instant, she’d just been so afraid and her guard had lowered.


“The cops will want to talk with me, too.” Her gaze darted back to the balcony. Noah was out there with the cops.


“Come with me, Claire. You don’t need to—hell, you don’t need to watch them bring out the body.”


No, she didn’t want to watch that. “Noah killed him.” Her voice was just for his ears. “Didn’t he?”


“He told me they didn’t know yet if Lane’s bullet or his ended the bastard. Either way, I figure it’s good riddance.” He turned, and with a steady hold on her, Drake led her to the door.


She didn’t look back when they slipped out of that suite. The EMTs and Gwen were already gone. Claire glanced down and realized she still had blood on her hands.


A few moments later, the elevator dinged. She and Drake slipped inside when the doors parted. Then, as soon as they were alone and on their way down, Claire confessed, “I didn’t want him to do it.”


Drake lifted a brow.


“I never wanted Noah to kill for me.”


“I know.”


She sucked in a gulp of air. “Why did it have to happen like this?”


With his eyes on her, Drake shook his head. “You’re not responsible, got it? Austin Harrison is to blame. The man was twisted, and he needed to be put down.”


“It’s not that simple.”


“To me, it is. And for Noah, the choice was kill or be killed. He did just what he’d been trained to do.”


I love you.


She stared at her blood-stained hands. “What’s going to happen now?”


“I’d say that’s up to you and Noah.”


Noah hadn’t said much. That was the problem. After Austin had fallen, Noah had pushed her inside the suite as fast as he could. His hands had roamed over her, checking for injuries, and when he’d been satisfied that she was unharmed, he’d let her go.


I love you. “I think I made a mistake.” She straightened her shoulders.


The elevator stopped. The doors opened, and she hurried to exit. But Drake caught her shoulder. “What mistake?”


Swallowing, Claire looked over at him. “I fell for Noah.” He’d gotten right past her guard. “Austin wanted to hurt him. I couldn’t let that happen. I-I was the one to fire the first shot.”


“Because you were saving Noah.”


She had saved him, barely. Austin’s bullet hadn’t hit Noah. She licked her lips. “I shot first because I love Noah.”


And everyone I love gets hurt.


***


“Austin Harrison.” Lane shook his head as he watched the body get bagged and tagged. “Never seen crazy run in a family as much as it did in that one.”

A thick knot of tension curled at the top of Noah’s spine. “He was going to kill Claire.” Every time he thought of just how close he’d come to losing her…I’ll have nightmares forever about that moment.


His hands fisted.


When he’d rushed into the suite, he’d found Gwen on the floor. There’d been so much blood around her, but her eyes had been opening. She’d been whispering for Claire.


Noah had been shouting for her.


He’d burst onto that balcony. Seen Austin with his gun—


Then Claire fired. Her bullet had found its mark, and Austin’s shot had gone wild.


She’d fired and then run right into Noah’s arms.


“I think Claire is finally going to be free,” Lane said, his eyes still on the black body bag. “There aren’t any Harrisons left to try and wreck her life anymore.”


So it would seem.


“The New York detectives are going to be taking over.” Lane finally pulled his gaze off the body bag and inclined his head toward the two suits in the corner. “The press will go wild, but I figure a guy like you is used to handling the press.”


“I am, but Claire isn’t.” His eyes locked on the New York detectives. “After we answer their questions, I’m going to take Claire away from the city. I don’t want her steps dogged by every reporter within a fifty mile radius.”


“I’d do the same damn thing in your position.” Lane offered his hand. “I know we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, York.”


“You mean because you thought I was a killer?” Noah took his hand. Shook it once.


“Hell, I know you’re a killer. I’ve got friends at the Pentagon, so I got my hands on your military records.” Lane gave him a hard grin. “I mean because I thought you were a pompous rich jerk who was playing games in my city.”


Noah smiled. “I like you, Detective.”


“No, but you respect me, and that’s just as good.” Lane hesitated. “I really hope my bullet was the one that ended that bastard’s life.” His jaw hardened. “No one hurts my Gwen.”


And no one hurts Claire.


Noah realized that he and the detective had quite a few things in common.


When the detective walked away, Noah glanced around the suite. He’d seen Drake leading Claire away minutes before, and he was glad that she had escaped from the death that clung to that place. Claire had seen enough death.


It was time for her to live.


I love you.


Those words had been so soft that Noah hadn’t been sure he’d heard them, not at first. Then he’d looked into Claire’s eyes and seen her love.


“Mr. York?”


He glanced to the right. One of the New York detectives was coming toward him. More questions. He and Claire would both have their turn being grilled. But as soon as they got the all-clear…


I’ll get you out of here, Claire. They’d go back to the Hamptons. They’d walk on the beach. Fuck on the balcony.


Live.


And there wouldn’t be any more fear for Claire. Because Noah wasn’t going to let her out of his sight anytime soon.


Seeing her on that balcony had scared a good fifteen—twenty?—years of his life away. In that one instant, when Austin had swung with his gun up, Noah had realized one very, very important fact.


I can’t live without Claire.


Love or obsession? Claire had asked the question once. She’d wondered if there was a difference between the two things.


For a while now, Noah had thought that he would kill for her.


Yet in that one, desperate moment, he’d been ready to die for her.


Love, Claire. It’s love, not just obsession.


Chapter Fourteen


The last twenty-four hours had been hell. Claire climbed the steps to Noah’s beach house, feeling exhaustion pressing over every inch of her body.


There had been questions. Then more questions. Detectives who grilled her. Detectives who seemed to comfort her.


There had been reporters. Dozens of them. Camped out around the hotel. Waiting outside of the police station.


They’d shouted at her. Snapped images.


She’d already seen a few newspaper headlines. Another Harrison Driven to Kill?


She hadn’t driven Austin to do anything.


But the press loved a story about sex and murder. Claire knew she’d be in the headlines for a long time to come.


“Claire?” Noah’s fingers brushed over her arm. She realized that she’d just stopped in front of the door. “Baby, what is it?” He turned her in his arms so that she stared up at him.


Night had fallen again, but the house was lit. Gleaming from within. Noah had called his caretaker earlier and told him to prepare the house.


She knew he’d wanted her to have a place to hide. Escape. “I’m sorry that my nightmare spilled over onto you. Sometimes, I know you have to wish that I’d never walked into your hotel.”


He shook his head. “I never wish that. The day you walked into my hotel was one of the best days of my life.”


What?


His head lowered toward her, and Noah’s lips took hers. The kiss was long, slow, and so thorough. So…Noah.


When he ended the kiss, he stared down at her with eyes that seemed to blaze with emotion. The problem was that Claire couldn’t read that emotion. Need? Lust? Or something more?


She wanted it be to something more so badly.


“Let’s go inside, or I’ll take you right here.”


Her own eyes widened at that, and Claire hurried to get inside the beach house. Noah locked the door behind her, and she stopped by the couch, wondering—


“You scared me.”


He’d said the words like an accusation. Claire turned and blinked at him. “I, um, didn’t mean to.” She’d been trying to save him.


“You shot Austin. A damn ballsy move, but then you ran toward me.” His eyes glinted. “The guy still had his weapon. I could see him trying to get it up and aimed, and you were between him and me. He could’ve shot you.”


“That wasn’t his plan.” Noah hadn’t been there when the cops questioned her so he didn’t realize… “He wanted me to jump from the balcony. A bullet to my head wouldn’t have worked with the suicide story he was trying to create.”


“Suicide?”


“I broke once, so he thought everyone would easily buy the story that I broke again.”


Only about five feet separated her and Noah. He started walking toward her, stalking forward, and he eliminated that space quickly. His fingers closed around her shoulders. “I never would’ve bought that story.”


Still trying to understand the emotion in his eyes, Claire searched his gaze.


“I haven’t been afraid for a long time. Not in the military. Not during my…extra stints with Trace and Drake. Hell, not since that boat sank and my world changed. I was afraid then. Fucking terrified, and there was nothing I could do to save the people I loved most.”


Her heart ached for him.


“I’d planned to kill the man who was after you.” He said this bluntly, easily, as if death didn’t matter to him. “It was an easy choice. Someone was hurting you. I had to stop him. So I used the engagement, thinking that it would draw him out.”


“It did.”


“It drew him to come after you, not me.” His hold on her tightened. “That was never what I intended. I never wanted you to be hurt or to be afraid or—”

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