Scott gathered himself. Pain coursed through his ribs, and his lungs still refused to grab and hold a full breath, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t let Tyler hurt Rachel.
Stealth was impossible. At any moment Tyler would get her in the jeep and carry her out of range. Then anything could happen, and he might never see Rachel again. A wave of anger surged through him. He couldn’t let that happen. He would fight for her, and he would win. The alternative . . . wasn’t an option.
When he got outside, he saw Rachel twisting and screaming. She couldn’t fight harder if she tried. She placed a solid elbow into his side, but Tyler twisted her arm ferociously.
Scott clenched his fist and picked up speed. There weren’t many places to hide. So he’d replace stealth with speed. God, I need an idea. Tyler had a gun and he didn’t.
He worked his way until he was about ten feet behind them.
Tyler spun around, hand clamped around Rachel’s arm. “You’re as stealthy as a herd of buffalo.”
“You can’t take her.” Scott wished he had his pistol. Even that would help even the fight.
“I have the gun. Since you don’t have your pistol out, I assume you forgot yours. The one with the gun wins.” The gun wavered, Tyler taking turns pointing at each of them. “So move back.”
Scott took a shuffle step back.
“Not far enough.” When Scott took another step, Tyler nodded. “Keep going that direction. If you follow, I will kill her.” The hard look in the man’s eyes convinced Scott he was serious.
Where was the soldier he’d sent for help? Why hadn’t he returned? He must have expected Tyler to remain unconscious. Instead Tyler would get away, taking Rachel with him.
Scott eased back another step, then watched as Tyler edged Rachel to the jeep. Her eyes pleaded with him to do something.
His mind raced, trying to concoct a plan.
The problem was, his brain refused to work. He wasn’t a real soldier. He was here to work with art, not subdue the enemy. This time the enemy wore his country’s uniform, and he felt inept.
Rachel’s life depended on him doing something heroic.
If things continued on this course, he’d fail.
He had to think. Tyler pushed Rachel into the jeep, then forced her to slide across. In that moment his attention was on her instead of Scott. This might be his only chance.
Scott launched at the vehicle, putting every ounce of effort into driving his legs as hard as he could. His feet pounded, and he covered the distance before Tyler turned around.
One more step.
Then he jumped on top of the man who’d turned toward him. In that moment he pinned Tyler’s gun arm. “Run, Rachel! Get away from here.”
She stared at him a moment, then scrambled out the other side of the jeep and ran screaming for help. Maybe one of the remaining light infantry men would finally come.
Tyler threw an elbow at him.
Not again.
Scott didn’t want to repeat the well-house fight.
He pressed all his weight onto Tyler and pulled back his right arm for a punch.
He put all he had into it and it smashed Tyler’s cheek. The man grunted but acted like it hadn’t hurt more than a bee sting.
Tyler kicked, throwing Scott off balance.
His hold on Tyler’s gun arm wavered.
Scott gritted his teeth and reached inside for the force to push back. “You can’t have her.”
“Then neither can you.” Tyler jerked his head forward, catching Scott in the nose. A flood of warmth flowed down his face.
Scott slammed Tyler away through a haze of pain that made his eyes water. He rolled to the side with all his weight, pulling Tyler out of the jeep.
They crashed to the ground, Scott rolling until Tyler was under him again.
Tyler gasped but pulled nothing in, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“What’s going on?” The accent had never sounded better, but Scott didn’t tear his gaze from Tyler to see who went with the Indian tone.
“This man has stolen art from the Italians, abducted a captain in the American army, and attacked an officer.” Scott grunted as Tyler shifted sharply. Then he stilled as the barrel of a rifle came alongside his face.
“Then it seems you should give your gun to me.” The rifle shifted closer to Tyler. “Now.”
Tyler’s features tightened into a mask of anger. The gun dropped from his fingers. Scott knocked it to the side, then shifted away.
“We’ll take it from here, sir.”
“Thank you.”
The soldier prodded Tyler to his feet.
“I’ll take the keys to the jeep.” Scott waited for Tyler to do something, but the man remained rigid. “May I?” After a moment the Indian nodded. “Thank you.” Scott patted down Tyler’s pockets until he retrieved the keys. “I’ll come find you in a few minutes to give you my statement.” First, he had to find Rachel and see for himself that she was okay.
He wanted to hold her and say aloud the words he was no longer afraid to say. Only then would he secure the paintings from the well house.
Rachel paced back and forth in the courtyard, trying to stay out of sight, but her stomach tightened in knots as she prayed Scott would be okay. Tyler had transformed into someone she barely recognized. The anger and bitterness seemed deep set, and he had scared her as he shoved her toward the jeep. She hadn’t known what he would do. And no one came to her aid. No one except Scott.
Then Scott had told her to run.
She should have stayed and helped. Instead she’d abandoned him. She braced to hear a gunshot at any moment but prayed it never happened.
She couldn’t wait like a schoolgirl who was afraid of her own shadow. She could do something even if it was throwing more rocks.
Rachel looked around the courtyard for something she could use. An old rake leaned against the wall. That would do. She grabbed it and started back toward the jeep, keeping to the shadows as she moved.
A man came toward her. He staggered a bit and wore a uniform. Blood leaked from his nose, down his chin, onto his shirt. Could it be Tyler coming after her? She stepped deeper into the shadows, then braced the rake to bring it down on the man’s head.
“Rachel?”
The word had to be the sweetest she’d ever heard.
“Scott?” She dropped the rake, and it clattered against the ground and his foot.
“Ouch.” He jumped back, then held his arms open. “You’re okay?”
She raced into his embrace, feeling sheltered and protected as he wrapped her in a hug. She nestled into his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat slow. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He stroked her hair in a soothing motion.
“For coming for me.”
“There was no way I’d let him drive away with you.” Scott sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of protecting you.”
She pulled back enough to see his eyes in the faint light coming from the kitchen windows. “Shhh. You’re my hero. Without you I don’t know what back road Tyler would have me on or where I’d end up. Thank you.”
His gaze skimmed her face like a feathery touch that sent shivers down her spine. Her breath caught with anticipation. The moment stretched as if he couldn’t decide whether to lean down. She lifted onto her toes, bringing her face closer to his. His breath brushed her cheek, and she ached to know the feel of his lips on hers.
“I don’t want to react to the moment.” His words breathed against her nose.
She tipped his chin, brushed a dribble of blood away. Then she cupped his cheeks. “I do.”
He leaned closer, and the moment their lips touched, she felt the sensation of coming home. This was where she was supposed to be. Lost in his embrace, sheltered by this man.
The moment the kiss ended, Scott placed his forehead against hers. “I love you, Rachel Justice.”
She reached toward him, and he sealed his declaration with another kiss.