Match Play (7 page)

“You could have been there,” she heard herself say.

“I know.”

“You were the one who decided we should cool it. Not me.”

“I know.”

Maybe it was the champagne. Or the itchy awareness of his chest only inches from her back. Or the slow, kneading rhythm when he resumed the massage.

Or all of the above, Dayna thought on another wave of resentment. This one was so swift and strong it almost made her feel woozy.

“Why
weren't
you there, Harper?” Riding the wave, she twisted around to face him. “Why didn't you think we were worth fighting for?”

He didn't dodge the question or the raw emotions it evoked. “I knew what the Olympics meant to you. Hell, the last weekend we spent together your palms were so blistered from paddling you had to slather on antiseptic ointment and wear cotton gloves the whole time. You think I wanted to get in the way of that kind of drive, that kind of dedication?”

Dayna's lip curled. Every moment of their last weekend was so vivid in her mind she might have been back at Columbus Air Force Base instead of in this cozy suite filled with chintz-covered furniture and dark oak trim. Her heart racing, she debunked his quiet explanation.

“Don't give me that noble sacrifice crap. You explained everything in precise detail. You'd just entered the most intensive phase of pilot training. You were in class or flying all day, studying every night. You didn't have the time or the inclination for a long-distance love affair. Not that there was much love involved in our affair,” she added. “Lust, maybe, but not love.”

“Lust, definitely.” Stung but obviously trying to hang on to his temper, he grinned. “That hasn't changed, has it? Or did I misread the signals when we locked lips a while ago?”

Dayna shoved off the sofa, so incensed by the grin that her heart pounded like a jackhammer and black spots danced in front of her eyes.

“Damn straight you misread the signals! Do you think I enjoy performing with you in front of the cameras like a trained seal?”

“Matter of fact, I do.” Jaw locked, he rose, as well. “You didn't exactly push me away this afternoon, Pud.”

“Do…not…call…me…that!”

Anger held her in such a tight vise she couldn't seem to breathe. This was insane! Where had all this roiling emotion come from? She'd put Luke Harper out of her life years ago. Out of her head. This crazy situation had thrown them together again, sure, but…but…

But what?

She fisted a hand, shoved it against her breastbone. Why couldn't she think? Why couldn't she breathe?

“Dayna?”

She staggered toward him. One step. That's all she took, all she could manage. Luke leaped forward and caught her as she started to crumple.

“Dayna, what's wrong!”

She sagged against him, unable to speak, unable to breathe. Her heart felt as though it was about to explode. Panting, she fought for air.

“I…I…”

She clutched her chest, felt the room spin. Her vision blurred, darkening around the edges, until all she could see was Luke's face.

“Hang on, sweetheart. Hang on.” Mouth tight, eyes grim, he eased her to the carpeted floor. “I'm calling a doctor.”

She dug her nails into his forearms.

“And…Hawk.”

W
ith Dayna curled in a tight fetal position on the floor, Luke lunged across the room. He snatched up the phone and stabbed 0 for the hotel operator. In the two-second lifetime it took for the operator to come on, he ransacked his memory bank for the emergency medical procedures drilled into him during his USAF Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape training.

SERE had focused on basic, rough-and-ready medicine to treat injuries suffered by downed aircrews after bailing out or crashing behind enemy lines. Luke had learned to counter shock, improvise splints and shoot lifesaving medications directly into veins and arteries.

He'd also learned to recognize the signs of apparent heart attack. His own chest cramping at the sight of Dayna's white, pasty face contorted in pain, Luke dragged the phone across the room with him.

“We need an ambulance!” he bit out when the operator came on. “Room 224.”

He was on his knees, rolling Dayna onto her back, before the startled operator stammered a response.

“Yes, s-sir! Room 224.”

“Send up an AED if there's one in the hotel.”

“Send what?”

What did the friggin' initials stand for? Luke had no clue.

“One of those portable defibrillators.”

“Yes, sir. Please, stay on the line while I…”

The receiver hit the floor. He'd keep the line open, but he knew every second counted. He had to assess Dayna's condition and
fast.

She was conscious, thank God! And breathing, but every erratic rise and fall of her chest brought a grunt of pain.

Clamping an iron lid over the fear that ripped through him at those agonized breaths, Luke pressed two fingers to the side of her neck. Her pulse beat against his hand with the ferocity of a jungle drum. At least she hadn't gone into cardiac arrest. Not yet, anyway.

“Dayna. Sweetheart. An ambulance is on the way. Has this happened before? Are you taking medication for a heart condition?”

“N-no.”

“How about aspirin? Do you have any in the bathroom?”

“No.”

“Okay, just lie still. I'm going to elevate your feet.”

She gripped his arm before he could drag the cushions from the sofa. “Call…Hawk.”

Hell, he'd forgotten about Callahan! The man was Dayna's partner. Maybe she had a medical condition he knew how to treat. Yanking his cell phone from his shirt pocket, Luke flipped up the lid.

“We need to keep the hotel line open. I'll have to dial the hotel to get…”

“Use…my watch.”

Panting, she lifted her wrist. Her shaking fingers fumbled over the face of an expensive-looking chronometer, but a sudden spasm had her clawing at her chest again.

His heart in his throat, Luke grasped her wrist. “How do I do this?”

“Push…top left…knob.” Sweat beaded on her forehead. “Three…times.”

He jabbed his thumb over the knob and once again reached for the cushions. Mere seconds later Callahan's terse reply cut through Dayna's rasping breaths.

“Acknowledging emergency signal. Advise of situation.”

A distant corner of Luke's mind noted the incredible clarity of the transmission. Whatever was packed into that thin watch beat even the B-2's ultra-sophisticated Milstar communications system.

“Do I have to push another knob to respond? Pud! How do I respond?”

“I hear you, Harper,” Callahan shot back. “What's happening?”

“Dayna's in severe distress, pulse elevated and highly erratic, breathing labored. I've called for an ambulance. Does she have a medical condition the EMTs need to know about?”

“Negative. Where are you?”

“Her hotel room.”

“I'm on my way. ETA ten to twelve minutes.”

After that there was nothing to do but try to keep her comfortable. Settling onto the floor beside her, Luke pillowed her head in his lap. His tone remained calm, his hand steady as he brushed her hair back from her sweat-streaked forehead, but his insides twisted with every gasp.

“Lie still, Puddles. I'm right here with you. Just lie still.

He wasn't sure when she started to breathe easier. Some moments after the hotel operator's tremulous voice came through the receiver, advising that the ambulance should arrive within minutes.

“I've notified Mr. Woodhouse, our director of security,” the operator added. “He's on his way up.”

“Thanks.”

Was Dayna's color coming back? Afraid he was seeing what he wanted to see, Luke brushed a knuckle over her cheek.

“Did you hear that? The cavalry's on the way.”

“I…heard.”

The awful rasping gave way to slower, less agonized breaths. Luke curved his hand over her throat to check her pulse. It was still dancing to a jungle beat but not as wildly as before.

“Your pulse is slowing, Pud.”

Her lids lifted. Through the screen of her lashes, she telegraphed a reluctant surrender. “Can't seem…to break you of…that.”

“What?” With his fear for her overriding everything else, he hadn't realized he'd let the hated nickname slip out. “Oh, you mean, Puddles?”

“Guess I'll have to…get used to it.”

Luke managed to keep from shouting his relief. She was most definitely doing better. Grinning, he stroked her cheek again.

“Guess so.”

She dragged in another breath. Deeper. Steadier.

He did the same, pulling in the first full measure of air since Dayna had clutched her chest.

“I think I can sit up now,” she said, her breathing almost back to normal.

“No need to push it.”

“I'm okay now, Luke. Really.” She put a hand to her sternum and knuckled the valley between her breasts. “The pain is gone.”

“That doesn't mean you're okay.”

They both jumped when the door rattled under a fierce pounding.

“Ms. Duncan! This is hotel security.”

“She's here,” Luke shouted. “Come in.”

Using his master key card, the hotel's director of security rushed into the suite. Squat, broad-shouldered and bull-necked, he brought two minions in with him. One carried a portable defibrillator in a white plastic case with a red heart on the cover. All three looked relieved when they found Dayna sitting up instead of stretched out on the floor.

“Is your chest hurting, Ms. Duncan?”

“Not as much as it was.”

“Rest easy, then. A National Health Service Ambulance is on the way.”

Too shaken by those terrifying moments when her heart had almost galloped out of her chest to argue, Dayna slumped against Luke's solid bulk. His arms came around her, as warm and comforting as his voice had been mere minutes ago.

She was still in their protective circle when the thud of footsteps announced the arrival of the EMT squad. Wheeling in a stretcher, they snapped on plastic gloves and crouched beside Dayna.

“Are you feeling pain, Ms. Duncan?”

“Not now.”

“When you did, how would you describe it?”

“Like my heart was in the lead at Ascot.”

Hawk pounded into the room at that moment. His glance cut instantly to Dayna.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

Luke pushed to his feet. “I'll fill you in while the EMTs do their work. Let's get out of their way.”

Feeling disconcertingly bereft without his comforting warmth, Dayna shoved up her sleeve and held out her arm. One EMT tech attached a blood pressure cuff. The other threaded out the leads for a portable EKG machine.

When she was hooked to the monitor, the tech transmitted the results by cell phone to the E.R. At the same time he examined the narrow strip spewing out of the machine. After studying the steady pattern, he consulted with his partner before pronouncing Dayna alive and still kicking.

“Your vitals and EKG appear to be normal, Ms. Duncan, but we need to transport you to hospital for more tests.”

She could envision the media frenzy that would erupt if they wheeled her through the hotel lobby on a stretcher.

“We don't need to tie up an ambulance. I'll drive to the hospital.”

“The hell you will!”

“No way!”

The simultaneous protests burst from Luke and Hawk. Dayna corrected herself with a grimace.

“One of these gentlemen will drive me.”

The EMT techs looked doubtful.

“I'm fine now,” she insisted. “Really.”

She underscored the point by folding her legs under her and gliding to her feet before any of the men present could reach out to help her. When the EMTs packed up their gear, she supplied the necessary information for insurance purposes.

“Thank you so much for your quick response.” Her grateful smile included the hotel's security director and his minions. “Can I show my appreciation by arranging VIP passes for you to the tournament?”

“You're not thinking of finishing the tournament?” the hotel's security director asked with a frown.

“Depends on what the docs at the hospital say.”

Hawk and Luke weren't as easy to palm off. When the others had departed, Dayna confronted two males wearing almost identical scowls.

“Forget the tournament,” Luke ordered. His hand wrapped around her upper arm. “You're going to the hospital.”

“Yes, I am, but…”

“No buts,” Hawk said flatly. Scooping up her fanny pack, he took her other arm. “Let's go.”

Feeling like a prisoner shackled between two burly guards, Dayna was marched toward the door. Halfway there, she dug in her heels.

“Wait!”

Her gaze locked on the champagne bottle tipped at an angle in the silver bucket. Something tugged at the edge of her mind. Something about the bottle, or the cork, or…

A sudden image razored into her head. Like a digital movie played on a high-definition screen, she saw Luke removing the elaborate silver stopper and pouring a pale gold stream into a crystal flute.

One
crystal flute.

An ugly suspicion formed, and was instantly swept away. He'd offered to get another glass from the bathroom and would have joined her in a drink. Yet Dayna couldn't shake the nagging sense that she was missing something.

“Didn't you say room service delivered that?”

“What?”

“The champagne.” Pulling free of her shackles, she turned to face him. “Room service delivered it?”

“They did.”

“Did you pop the cork?”

“No.” He paused, and a grim understanding dawned in his eyes. “The bottle was wearing that thistle stopper when the waiter carried in the bucket and tray.”

She was probably way out in left field. She had absolutely no reason to suspect someone had tampered with the champagne—aside from the fact that she knew she was in top physical condition and had never experienced any heart problems before.

Going on pure instinct, she turned to Hawk. He'd remained silent during the exchange, but his tight expression told her he hadn't missed its significance.

“I think Luke better drive me to the hospital while you contact our friends in British Intelligence. Tell them we need a lab analysis ASAP.”

“Roger that. I'll also brief Lightning. Call me from the hospital when you know something.”

 

Dayna's energy and strength had returned full force by the time she finished the battery of tests ordered by the E.R. doc. Luke stepped outside the exam room for some of the more intimate tests, but muscled his way back in to hear the results.

“Everything appears normal,” the Pakistani-born E.R. doc confirmed. “Despite the lack of indicators, however, we can't rule out possible heart problems.”

Her dark eyes reflected utter seriousness as she regarded the patient perched on the edge of the exam table.

“Something caused your bout of severe arrhythmia, Ms. Duncan. Stress, the physical demands of your job, your exertion on the links this afternoon—all these factors added together would put tremendous strain on anyone.”

Not to mention the small matter of whisking a nuclear scientist and his daughter away from their watchdogs.

“I've also seen reports on the telly of your reunion with Captain Harper,” the doc continued. Her serious mien gave way to a smile that included Luke. “It's so very romantic, the two of you finding each other again. I was quite swept away by it all. I can see how you would be, as well.”

Dayna swallowed a groan and ignored the wicked glint that sprang into Luke's eyes.