Rogue's Passion(13)

(2) Beg. With tears. Lots of them. Even though she was truly freaked out and could probably cry without too much effort, it wasn’t her style. Next.
(3) Run. Grab her things and run like the devil was chasing her. She was an expert at it—she’d been doing it all her life. But she was too exhausted. Just the thought of sprinting out of here made her want to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. Scratch that, too, for now.
(4) Barter. Tell him she’d heal him if he promised not to say anything. But she wasn’t sure she had enough energy left to help him. If she didn’t, she’d have exposed her secret for nothing. He’d be pissed and would go to the authorities. Nope. That wouldn’t work, either.
(5) Lie. BS her way through it.
She settled on number five, the only reasonable choice. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He frowned. A muscle in his jaw flexed. “You expect me to believe that horseshit? She was almost dead until you got to her. Even the aid workers thought so.”
“That’s ridiculous. The EMT came over here and asked for my help. You heard him. You were here.”
“Yeah, probably because he felt bad that he wasn’t going to be able to help that woman. He didn’t want to leave her there to die on that stretcher by herself.”
“You’re wrong. What kind of aid worker would do that?”
“It’s battlefield medicine. In a crisis situation, you have limited resources and sometimes you have to make a choice to help others who have a better chance of surviving. Admit it, Olivia. Her situation was hopeless until you came along.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off. “It’s pointless to argue. I know what I saw.”
Why would the guy know about battlefield medicine? Was he a former soldier? If he was, then he probably still had connections in the army, which meant this was worse than she thought.
The BS route wasn’t going to fly, not in the face of this new revelation. She really did need to get out of here. If a stranger could guess her secret, then others could as well. What an idiot she’d been to expose herself like that. She should’ve been more careful. Who knew how many others had noticed what she’d done?
She decided to change her mind and go with number three, no matter how exhausted and drained she was.
Shrugging out of the fireman’s jacket and tossing it in the direction of what used to be the register counter, she stepped over a few broken bottles and trudged toward the office where she kept her things, exhaustion weighing down each step.
“You’re wrong,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m nothing special. If what you say is true, then why wouldn’t I be out there helping other people? Think about it.” She grabbed her jean jacket and messenger bag from a hook just inside the door and turned to go.
Suddenly, he was there in front of her, all six foot whatever of him, blocking her from going anywhere. Holy crap. If the guy wasn’t a bouncer, he really should think about becoming one. He was supporting most of his weight on one booted foot while holding onto his bad arm. Although he was injured, there was something really strong and commanding about the way he was looking at her.
“I think it’s because you’re hiding your ability.” His pupils were two little pinpricks surrounded by gray. “You don’t want them to know.”
Them? So he wasn’t with the army, but the fact that he knew her secret made him just as dangerous.
She took a step backward, the broken Reidel stemware making a crisp, crunching sound beneath her cowboy boots. He moved with her.
“What do you want from me?” she rasped.
“It’s my turn now,” he said, his voice almost a whisper as he towered over her. “You’re going to heal me.”
All of the oxygen disappeared from her lungs as if she’d been punched. Her ligaments turned to rubber.
He was trying to intimidate her into using her abilities for his gain. Just like David. A slow burn of indignation ignited in her belly. She would not let it happen again. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t act stupid,” he growled. “Like you don’t know what I’m talking about. If you did it for her, you sure as hell are going to do it for me.”
Déjà vu with déjà dick.
How the hell had she found herself in another situation like this? Did she give off a vibe that said, “I have a secret that needs to be exploited?” Was she some kind of jerk magnet? She flexed her hands and wished she had the nerve to punch him right in the face. She’d hit him on the left side of that chiseled jaw and knock him flat on his ass.