Damn. He hadn’t even felt the knife go in.
“Rafe!” Sara called out, her voice tinged with panic.
“I’m fine,” he lied just as the door to the building burst open and cops with weapons streamed onto the rooftop.
A woman he didn’t recognize but remembered from the guests downstairs knelt down beside him. “Officer Mancuso, I’m Amanda Stevens from the Daily Post. You’re a hero,” she said, sounding way too excited over the prospect.
“Just doing my job,” he muttered.
“I’ve been told you and Sara Rios used to be partners. How does it feel to rescue one of your own?” the persistent woman asked.
Rafe shoved his hand against his chest, the pain more excruciating now. From the corner of his eye, he saw uniformed officers haul the suspect to his feet.
The reporter asked the same question again.
How did it feel to rescue Sara? Easy question. It felt damn good to rescue a gorgeous blonde with curves to die for.
He hoped he hadn’t spoken out loud—his last thought before everything went black.
“IT WAS TOUCH and go for a while, but he’s going to be okay.”
The trauma surgeon’s words echoed in Sara’s head, relief making her dizzy. They’d practically shut down the city to get Rafe to Lenox Hill Hospital.
Sara barely remembered having her leg X-rayed, iced and put into a brace. The pain from wrenching her knee running up the stairs was nothing compared to that of nearly losing Rafe. He’d saved her life at the risk of his own, and she’d never forget it. She hadn’t left the hospital since she’d arrived by ambulance, waiting for news. “Rios!”
Sara turned at the sound of her captain’s voice. Almost the entire precinct had gathered, waiting for news on one of their own.
“Is this what you call lying low?” A large man with a spine of steel, Captain Hodges tended to sound gruff, but Sara knew he had the heart of a teddy bear.
“Sorry, Captain. Who knew an auction would lead to a hostage crisis?”
The man rolled his eyes. “You just like to be where the action is,” he muttered. “The D.A. is going to have my head on a platter for approving this off-duty assignment.”
“Better stay out of her way, then,” Sara joked.
To her relief, the big man smiled in return. “Good news on Mancuso.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How long are you out of commission?” he asked, pointing to the brace on her knee.
She swallowed hard. “I’m not sure. The X-rays were inconclusive.” If she called some evidence of early arthritis and degenerative joint disease inconclusive. “They scheduled an MRI for tomorrow.”
Sara already had torn-meniscus issues from an old high-school gymnastics injury. Periodic pain, clicking and swelling of her knee were a normal part of her life. But now she’d been warned that by reinjuring the joint, she could end up with permanent problems, which would make doing her job impossible. Something she refused to contemplate.
Police work was all she knew. All she’d ever wanted to do. She came from a family of cops. Dysfunctional cops who couldn’t keep their marriages or families together, so being an officer defined them.
It defined her.
“Well, you’re officially on medical leave until you’re cleared to return. Go home and get some rest,” the captain said.
She bit the inside of her cheek, knowing better than to argue. “I will.”
“Good. Take care of yourself.”
She nodded.
“And this time, lie low.”
THE DAILY POST
THE BACHELOR BLOG
Our latest bachelor quit his day job for love. Sam Cooper’s heart is spoken for, ladies. But luckily, there’s a new heroic bachelor in the city. Rafe Mancuso stepped in and saved one of New York City’s finest, getting injured in the process. I can hear you all swooning now.
Amanda Stevens, features editor at the Daily Post, was there live covering the Lancaster auction. She asked the hostage negotiator how it felt to save a damsel in distress. Mr. Mancuso, not realizing he’d been stabbed, answered from the heart—“Just doing my job. With the added perk of rescuing a gorgeous blonde with curves to die for,” before passing out from his injuries.
Could romance be brewing between this hero and the lady he saved? Or is the field clear for the other women of our city? Only time—and the Bachelor Blogger—will tell.
CHAPTER TWO
RAFE WOKE UP IN A sterile-looking hospital room, hooked up to an IV. He immediately became aware of a deep pain in his chest, and memories came flooding back. The auction, the hostage situation, realizing he’d been stabbed and a swarm of uniforms on the roof.
He blinked, but everything was still fuzzy.
The morphine, he thought, recalling that he’d awakened disoriented and in pain a few times before. He wasn’t as out of it now and wondered how much time had passed. “You’re up!”
He turned his head toward the sound of the familiar voice to find Sara sitting in a chair against the wall. She rose and maneuvered herself onto crutches before making her way toward the bed. Her hair hung messily around her shoulders, her face was makeup free and her exhaustion clear. So was the obvious relief in her expression.
Suddenly another memory surfaced. Every time he’d opened his eyes, she’d been there.
“How do you feel?” she asked, her soft gaze never leaving his.
“Like I was stabbed.” He cracked a smile.
She scowled at him. “Not funny. The knife nicked a pulmonary vein. They had to go in and close it up. At least, that’s what the doctor said.”
“Surgery?” he asked.
She nodded, her expression serious. “You needed blood,” she told him.
He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry.
“Here.” She reached over and picked up a cup of ice, spoon-feeding him chips until he’d moistened his mouth.
“I could get used to this kind of treatment.”
“Something tells me women would line up to accommodate you.” Her lips lifted in the first smile she’d given him since he woke up.
She placed the cup back onto the tray.
“But they’d have to fight off your mother, and she’s one protective lady.”
“My mother? She’s here?” he asked, shocked.
Sara nodded. “You know the drill. The captain made sure your folks were notified when things looked serious. They drove down from upstate and are staying in a nearby hotel.”
He closed his eyes and groaned.