Under the Tycoon's Protection by Anna DePalo Page A

though he’d make sure that the police and his own people nevertheless looked into it.
    And that was the other thing: the profile of Allison’s unknown harasser that he and Allison had constructed could be thrown out the window.
    The assailant had now done more than merely threaten and vandalize property. He’d shown he was desperate enough to try a direct attack on Allison. Not only that, but, chillingly, he’d apparently slashed Allison’s tire before the shooting in order to make it hard for her to flee by car.
    Still, Connor wasn’t convinced that the signs pointed to a member of Taylor’s gang rather than a white-collar criminal such as Kendall. Allison’s assailant had proved—fortunately—not to have very good aim. While it was possible that the incident in the parking lot had been intended as a gang-inspired drive-by shooting, the fact that the job had been so botched raised questions in Connor’s mind.
    The minute he’d gotten back to the townhouse and found the note Allison had left behind, he’d taken off after her, trying to reach her on her cell phone andnot succeeding. When he’d gotten to the parking lot, he’d pulled up right at the curb in front of the supermarket. He’d been getting out of his car when he’d heard the first shot ring out. Icy fear had wrapped itself around his heart as he’d reached for his own gun.
    He gave a quick glance at Allison sitting in the passenger seat next to him. She sat looking straight ahead, still appearing shaken by what had transpired in the last couple of hours.
    Silence reigned between them until they got into the townhouse. At which point, Connor decided it was time to get some answers. “I have a distinct memory of telling you to stay put,” he said tightly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but running out to the supermarket does not count as staying put.”
    â€œYou were delayed,” she responded, irritation lacing her voice. “And, anyway, I refuse to be a prisoner in my own home.”
    â€œRight,” he said harshly as he followed her into the living room. “It appears you’d rather be dead.”
    She stopped and whirled back to face him, temper flaring in her eyes. “That’s blunt,” she fired back. “Anyway, even if you’d been with me, I might still have gotten shot at.”
    â€œTrue, but it’s all about the odds, princess, and it would have been less likely,” he snarled back. “He, or whoever it was who took a shot at you, wouldhave thought twice about it if you looked as if you had security.”
    â€œSince when do you carry a gun?” she demanded abruptly.
    â€œWhat do you think being in the security business means, petunia?” he said, his tone scornful. “Of course I’ve got a gun.”
    He didn’t add that he was considered an excellent shot, keeping his skills honed at a shooting range. His clients expected him to provide top-notch security and that included using a gun if necessary. Fortunately, it had never been necessary—until today—because he was adept at using other means to get results.
    â€œAnd I can’t believe you chased that nut,” she continued. “You could have been killed!”
    Worried about him, was she? Under different circumstances, he’d have been pleased, but right now he was still furious about the way she’d completely disregarded his instructions. “So why did you run out?” he asked. “What was so important you couldn’t wait for me to get back? Or give me a call on my cell, for God’s sake?”
    She went still, looking away, then glancing back.
    She appeared embarrassed, though that didn’t make sense. “What?”
    â€œI was planning a romantic dinner,” she said finally. “For two. I needed some ingredients.”
    Her admission floored him. That was it? That was the important errand she’d