Mine To Hold (17 page)

She cleared her throat. “I left the hospital
as soon as I could. Sara knew, she always knew. The doctors had
said that there was some surgery that could be done to increase my
chances of conceiving again, but we didn’t have money for that. We
were barely surviving back then.”

“I can get you any damn doctor you want.” If
there was a way for Claire to have a baby, if she—

“I lost one fallopian tube with that
pregnancy. They said the other…it wasn’t functioning the way it
should. That’s why my pregnancy chances were unlikely. Surgery
might be able to help me, or it might not.” Her fingers tapped
against the window. “Back then, I figured it didn’t matter. I
wasn’t planning to get close enough to another man to have his
child.”

You’re close to me.

Her voice husky, Claire continued, “They told
me the surgery might not work, anyway. That there was only a twenty
percent chance of success.”

But I can get you any doctor. The best in the
world.

“I figured if I ever wanted kids, I could
adopt them. There are plenty of kids out there that need homes. I
could love a child just the same if he came from my body or if he
didn’t. Blood doesn’t make family.”

He’d stopped at a red light. Noah had to look
at her again. His mother had told him something similar to that,
when he’d first learned that he was adopted.

You’re mine, Noah. Blood doesn’t make you
more or less my son.

“Noah?”

His breath rushed out. “Blood doesn’t
matter.”

She looked relieved that he’d agreed with
her.

“Hell, I know that more than anyone else.”
The light changed. He had to glance toward the road once again.

There was silence in the car. Then Claire
asked, “Do you want kids, Noah?”

He’d never thought about them, not until he’d
stood on that balcony this morning. Then he’d imagined a little
girl. He hadn’t seen that little girl clearly in his mind. He’d
just had an image of Claire, smiling that full smile of hers—the
one that flashed her dimples—as she bent to hug the child. “Maybe I
do.”

“Then I hope you have them,” she told him,
and she cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her voice was
stronger as she said, “I hope you get everything that you
want.”

They eased into the valet line in front of
his hotel. As the valet rushed toward them, Noah offered Claire a
smile. “I fully intend to do just that.”

You’re what I want.

***

Someone was pounding at his door.

Sloan Hall groaned as he cracked open one
eye. He’d been at the hospital last night—
damn broken
nose—
then he’d gone out to drink his sorrows away.

Maybe mixing pain pills and booze hadn’t been
his best idea.

But it had sure felt good at the time.

Sunlight poured through the cheap blinds by
his window. The light hurt his eyes and he swore as he headed
toward the pounding.

Someone was being a dick.

He yanked open the door. “What the hell do
you—” Sloan broke off when he got a look at the person on the other
side of the door. “What are you doing here?”

His guest stepped forward.

Sloan hurried back.

And he started wishing that he hadn’t had
quite so many glasses of whiskey.

His guest shut the door. Then the guy’s hand
reached under the long, dark coat that he wore.

Fuck me, a gun!

Sloan tensed. His gaze locked on the weapon
and the silencer attached to the end of it.

“No, man, no!” Sloan’s voice was frantic. His
own weapon was shoved under the sagging mattress a few feet away.
If he moved fast enough, maybe he’d be able to grab it. “I-I was
doing my job!”

“Your services aren’t needed any longer.”

He’s going to kill me.

Sloan spun away, rushing for the bed. He’d go
out fighting or he’d—

The bullet tore into the back of his head. It
felt like someone had just swung a hammer into his head and
then—

Nothing.

Sloan hit the floor.

***

Noah’s phone rang just as he entered the
elevator. He glanced down, but didn’t recognize the number. “York,”
he said. His gaze was on Claire. They needed to talk more. He hated
that he’d brought up the possibility of a pregnancy to her because
now Claire looked shaken.

She’s lost too much.

He wanted to give her everything.

“I know Claire Kramer’s secrets.” The voice
was low, growling.

Noah frowned. “Who the hell is this?”

“We met last night. I had such a nice view of
you and Claire.”

Sloan.
The guy’s voice was so low that
Noah had to strain in order to hear him.

The elevator rose.

“Look, dumbass,” Noah snarled. “I thought I
made myself clear when we—”

“Claire killed the senator, and I have proof.
I was watching her. Always watching. Come to meet me, or I’ll go to
the cops.” Laughter. Rough. Taunting. “I’ll go to that pretty D.C.
cop. She already thinks that Claire is guilty. It’ll be so easy,
and Claire will finally get just what she deserves.”

Claire’s eyes had flared with alarm. “Noah?
Noah, what’s happening?”

Noah shook his head. “Where. When.”

“You’ve just bought a new building here in
town, right? The old Claymire Hotel.”

The building was completely empty right then.
His crews would begin renovation work the next week.

“Meet me there at three, or, by four, I’ll be
on my way to D.C.”

The caller hung up.

The elevator’s doors slid open.

Claire touched his arm. “Noah, what’s
happening?”

He didn’t speak, not there. He caught her
hand and led her to his suite. When they were alone, when he was
sure that no one could overhear, Noah said, “I have to know the
truth.”

“What truth?” Claire shook her head as
confusion flashed across her face. “I’ve always told you the
truth—”

“Did you kill the senator?”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

He didn’t have a lot of time.
Protect
her.
He pulled her closer. “Did you?”

“No!”

“Then why did that jerk PI just tell me that
you did? He says that he has proof, Claire. Proof that can lock you
up.”

“I-I was at the senator’s hotel, but I didn’t
go in. I didn’t see him.” Her voice shook. “I told you this
already. You believe me, don’t you?”

“I have to know the truth.” His eyes never
left hers. “If I don’t know what I’m facing, I can’t cover our
tracks well enough.”

Her breath caught. Understanding filled her
eyes. “Oh, my God.” She yanked away from him. “All this time…have
you actually thought I killed him?”

Noah didn’t speak.

“He was
shot
in the head! Just like my
parents.” She covered her mouth with her hand. Her gaze was stunned
as it held his.

“He made your life hell. You wanting some
revenge only seems natural.”

Her hand fell away from her mouth. “Killing
isn’t natural for me. My parents were murdered. My sister was
murdered. Violence has taken everyone from me.” She gave a hard,
negative shake of her head. “Trust me. Believe in me. I didn’t do
this.”

Then what the hell kind of game was Sloan
trying to play? “I want you to stay here. Don’t leave the hotel
until I get back.” He turned for the door.

But Claire grabbed his arm. “Where are you
going?”

“The PI wants to meet me. Says if I don’t
come, he’ll turn over the proof of your guilt to that D.C. cop,
Gwen Lazlo.”

“There is no proof,” she whispered as her
fingers tightened around him. “He’s lying to you.”

“He’s about to realize I’m not the kind of
man you can jerk around.”
Bad mistake, Sloan.
He tried to
brush by her.

Claire didn’t ease her hold. “If you’re
going, then so am I.”

“No.” He was definite. “You’re not.”

“This is my life we’re talking about here!
He’s saying I’m a killer.
I
get to face the guy!” Her breath
heaved out. Red stained her cheeks. “You aren’t leaving me behind
for this.”

That was exactly what he planned to do.

“The last time you saw Sloan, you attacked
the guy,” Claire reminded him. Not that Noah needed the reminder.
“Maybe this is some kind of payback plan he has. Get you alone, and
then attack.”

Bring it, asshole.

Claire’s stubborn chin notched up. “I won’t
let you be hurt because you’re trying to protect me.”

Wait—
what?

“That won’t happen.” Claire straightened her
shoulders. “So either we both go, or you’re going to have to tie me
to a chair…because I will follow you.”

This was the woman Drake had compared to a
broken bird? Hell,
no.
There was so much more to Claire than
just what met the eye.

“My life,” Claire said again. “Don’t shut me
out. Noah, pl—”

He kissed her. Deep and hard.
I told her
not to ever beg me.

His tongue thrust into her mouth. He tasted
her. He took.

Claire’s fierce response stunned him. Her
tongue met his. Her kiss was as frantic and feverish as his
own.

A perfect match.

Noah lifted his head. Their breath panted
out.

“Take me with you,” Claire whispered.

If I have to hurt the guy, I didn’t want you
seeing that. I don’t want you seeing…me.

But maybe it was time that he stopped hiding
the man that he really was from Claire. Maybe it was time for her
to see him for what he truly was.

Would she run then?

Or would Claire prove to be stronger than the
others?

***

Noah stared up at the old hotel. The building
was boarded up, and his crew had put a large, chain-link fence
around the property’s perimeter.

He didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean
Sloan Hall wasn’t already inside, waiting for him.

Claire’s shoulder brushed against his. “So
what’s the plan here?”

He’d thought about getting back-up for the
trip, but until he found out exactly what Sloan had to say, Noah
hadn’t wanted to involve anyone else.

Claire didn’t kill the senator.

He believed that, but he also knew just how
easy it was to frame someone for a crime. He wouldn’t let Claire be
pulled into a legal nightmare.

“The plan is that I go in—”

“
We,
” Claire corrected crisply.

Right. “We go in,” he allowed, “and we find
out what game this jerk is playing.”

Cautiously, they approached the building. He
saw that the wood near the entrance had been pried open.
Are you
inside, Sloan?

He climbed up the steps. Claire hurried with
him.

Then his phone rang.

Noah hesitated.
Sloan?

He yanked out the phone, but this time, he
recognized the number of the screen. It was Trace Weston’s personal
line. “Not a good time,” he growled to his friend when he answered
the call.

“I’m staring at a dead body,” Trace told him.
“I just thought you might want to know about that.”

“
What?
”

Claire was trying to peer into the darkness
of the hotel.

“I made it to New York about three hours
ago.” Trace’s voice held a hard edge. “My agents and I came out to
have a little talk with Sloan Hall.”

“I’m about to have my own talk with him,”
Noah snapped.
Dead body?
What the hell?

“That’ll be hard,” Trace murmured. “Seeing as
how the guy is missing half his head.”

All of the distant noise seemed to quiet
right then. The car horns muted. The rush of traffic eased. Noah
focused completely on Trace’s voice. “The dead body? It’s
Sloan?”

“He’s in some flea-hole of a hotel. My agents
tracked him. Seems the guy had to visit the hospital last night for
a broken nose.”

“
How long has he been dead?”

“Judging by the smell, at least a few damn
hours.”

Noah hadn’t heard Sloan’s voice clearly on
the phone. The guy had been whispering. Trying to disguise his
identity?

Claire was about to slip inside the small
opening near the old door. “No!” He grabbed for her arm.

“Uh, what?” Trace asked. “What are you
yelling about?”

Noah didn’t answer him. Every instinct he had
was screaming at him.

This meeting wasn’t about blackmail. It
wasn’t about Claire’s innocence or guilt.

It was about them being lured to this hotel.
To this empty, abandoned spot.

“Claire, come on!” But he didn’t wait for her
to come. Noah wrapped his arm around her stomach, and he lifted her
up against him. He ran, nearly falling down those stairs.

Get away. Get away. Get—

The explosion sent chunks of the old building
spiraling into the air. The boards covering the windows shot out.
Shards of glass rained down on Noah, and he tried to hunch his body
over Claire’s. But the blast had him flying through the air, too,
and all he could do was hold her, as tightly as he could.

They hit the ground. Hard enough to rattle
his bones. He felt blood sliding down his right arm, and a board
slammed into his back.

Claire was beneath him. The flames from the
explosion scorched his skin as he tried to keep covering her.

One explosion so far, but there could be
more.

I have to get her out of here.

“Come on, Claire,” Noah whispered. “We have
to make a run for it.”

Claire didn’t respond. When he lifted her up,
her head sagged back weakly. “Claire?”

Her eyes were closed. Blood trickled down the
side of her head.

No!

He lifted her up and ran then, as fast as he
could toward the fence that circled the property. Another explosion
had the ground trembling beneath his feet, but Noah didn’t stop. He
kept going. Kept holding her as tightly as he could.

Then he was free as he slid through the
opening in the chain-link fence. He rushed across the street.
Traffic had stopped. People were screaming, running, but he barely
saw any of them. They were just smoke covered blurs to him.