Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard 14)

He made it sound like she’d committed a grave sin. “Yes.”

“You’re damned lucky.”

“Yes, I am.”

A minute passed in silence, and then he said, “And you saved a man’s life.”

“Maybe I did. He’s critical.”

“How do you know that?”

“Detective Samuel. He arranged for me to be put on the list so nurses in ICU can talk to me and give me updates.”

“How many times have you called to check on his progress?”

“Just three times.”

Before he could tell her she was a neurotic mess, Isabel quickly moved to another topic. “What’s our strategy going to be with the detective?”

“Strategy?” he said, trying to hide his smile. She sounded so earnest. “Samuel will ask questions and you’ll answer them.”

“What if he wants me to come in so he can arrest me?”

“On what charge?”

“Murder.”

Glancing over at her and seeing the genuine worry on her face, he softened his tone. “Are you seriously thinking you could be charged with murder?”

“I killed a man,” she reminded.

“The man was trying to kill you and the man you were trying to help.”

“Yes, that’s right. Be sure to mention that if Detective Samuel brings out the handcuffs.” The mere possibility gave Isabel the shivers.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Michael assured her, but he could tell she didn’t believe him.

Isabel wanted to be calm and in control when she sat down with Samuel. She wasn’t sure how she was going to accomplish that goal, though. Right now her mind was a riot of emotions and crazy thoughts, all because of Michael. She had enough to think about. She didn’t need to have Michael on her mind, too.

He was simply doing a favor for his brother. Otherwise he wouldn’t give her the time of day. As impossible as it seemed, she had to stop fantasizing about what it would be like to be with him. He was, as the saying goes, way out of her league. Michael was so much more sophisticated, far more worldly. The women he liked were probably worldly, too, and didn’t have any expectations of a future with him, wanting pleasure for one night or maybe a week and then moving on without any deep emotional connection.

Isabel knew she couldn’t handle a relationship like that. She needed the emotional commitment.

Did it make her a fool that she wanted to be in love with a man before she slept with him? In this day and age, it probably did, but she didn’t care. Her dear friend Lexi felt the same way. They’d talked about it at length one night and decided they were dinosaurs.

God help the woman who would want to marry Michael and settle down. She would have an uphill climb for sure.

Now that she had sorted it all out and had come to the conclusion that for self-preservation she should get as far away from Michael as possible, she could move on to more important matters.

Then she turned to take a long look at him. He was driving, so he wouldn’t notice she was staring. What was so great about him anyway? Sure, he was tall and very fit. And, no question, he was handsome... in a rugged sort of way. He obviously was very intelligent and had done some heroic things in serving his country. And even though her original opinion of him had not been favorable, she had to acknowledge he could be thoughtful at times. He didn’t have to stay with her or help her through this disaster, but he hadn’t hesitated.

Okay, so what? Lots of men were handsome and smart and thoughtful. That didn’t mean she would want to have sex with any of them. Michael got roped into this situation, she reminded herself. He wasn’t anything special. He had plenty of flaws. She had seen them firsthand. She was simply getting carried away by their circumstances. And once she parted ways with him, she would be rational again.

Her sigh at finally figuring all of this out must have been audible because Michael turned. His eyes sought hers and his mouth curled into a smile. Her heart began to race.

Oh yes, she definitely needed to get away from him. When she was around him she couldn’t think straight. She had important decisions to make, and she couldn’t afford to have anything... or anyone... interfere.

“I’m going to Scotland,” she blurted. She couldn’t get much farther away than that, now, could she?