It surprised him, but Marc held his arms open until the woman he’d been shocked to see was held against his chest. His hold tightened around her. It was then he saw the teenage boy who’d been standing right behind her. “Simon, are you hurt?”

Simon, who looked so much like Rafe had at the same age, just shook his head. “I was in the back when the driver got shot. Ari made me stay on the floor. She’s the one who got out of the car to help Ashton.”

Marc’s attention shifted to the dark-haired woman in his arms. He hadn’t missed the blood all over her shirt. “Ariella, how badly are you injured? Have they called for an ambulance?”

She pulled in a deep breath and looked up at him. “I’m not hurt. The bullets missed me. It’s Ashton’s blood. He was hit in the neck.”

Marc didn’t want to let go of her, but she seemed to realize what she was doing and pulled away abruptly. The trembling was strong enough to tear her apart, but she kept herself together. Somehow.

The woman was stronger than she realized.

He’d known that the instant he’d met her. She had nearly died because he had trusted the wrong man. Marc would always have that on his conscience. After the man who’d been his lieutenant governor had shot her all those months ago, Marc had made a point of stopping by her hospital room.

She’d been unconscious, with a beautiful blonde had been at her side.

Everything had been connected; this skinny dark-haired beauty was his adoptive brother Rafe’s younger biological sister. And that blonde had ended up marrying his brother Travis.

He hadn’t known who she was to Rafe that first day in the hospital after the lt. governor had almost killed her. If he had...He would probably have been twice as angry.

If he’d known her as well then as he did now, that anger would have tripled. All he’d known was that a man he’d brought into the hotel that night was responsible for her almost dying.

He’d felt protective of her ever sense, though he’d deliberately kept himself at a distance. Mostly. Just so he didn’t overwhelm her so often.

Whenever he did something with his brothers now there was a good chance he’d be paired off with her.

Marc could think of far worse ways to spend his limited free hours.

This sweet, beautiful, shy woman touched something in him that hadn’t been triggered since his wife almost five years ago. Marc was still trying to figure out what to do about her.

She didn’t have a clue what she did to him, either.

Marc ran a hand up her spine lightly. When he got close, sometimes he just had to touch. To feel the softness of her beneath his palm. But this time, he touched only to comfort. “Honey, tell me exactly what happened to you today. We’ll get Elliot out here and he’ll fix it.”

“I have more questions,” a TSP patrolman tried to interrupt. Marc shot him a pointed look. He hadn’t missed the man’s abrasive attitude or the derisive way the man had looked at the Lucas Tech limo. The manufacturing facility Luc was bringing to the Finley Creek-Value area was highly contended at the moment. There had been several incidences of protests and even a direct attack or two toward the man. And his family.

He wouldn’t have the cop being an asshole. Not toward Ariella and her younger brother. Those two had been through enough hell in the last two years. Enough. He shifted closer to her, barely aware he did it until she moved even closer. “They’ll wait until Elliot Marshall gets here.”

Marc glanced at his own bodyguards, who waited on either side of him, guns visible. As a public official he could request a state-sponsored guard detail. But he preferred to have men at his back that he paid for. Much greater chance to ensure loyalty that way. “Get my limo ready. Get it warm, too. She’s shaking and possibly in shock. I’m taking her to Finley Creek General. You. Patrolman Winters, is it? You are to get Chief Elliot Marshall to meet me at FCGH. In fact, I want him waiting when I get there. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Simon, wait by my car. I’ll get your sister taken care of.” First order of business was to get her out of that blood-covered shirt. The woman had seen more blood than she ever should have had to. He looked at his driver. “Keep with Simon. I’m going to get her settled first.”

“Yes, sir.” Rick headed back to the car immediately.