Midnight Abduction

by Nichole Severn

  “I don’t care about any of that. What matters is that you have a place to recover while we figure the rest of this out. I think it’ll be good for Olivia, too. Being somewhere familiar.” He tried to ignore the fact all his furniture had been moved or that the rug his mother had woven by hand before he’d been born had disappeared from the living room. The property, including the house his father had built with his own two hands, had been left to him by his parents when they’d passed a few years ago. It’d always felt like home, a sanctuary where he and the kids could let go at the end of the day, stay away from the fast-paced, ever-growing city. A place he could build a family. Only now it felt...cold. Empty. Like something was missing.

  Benning cleared his throat. Hiking her duffel into his good hand, he nodded down the hall. “You’re welcome to take my room. It’s not much, but you won’t have to sleep on a twin-size bed that may or may not have cookie crumbs in the sheets.” Benning shifted his weight between both feet as a smile pulled at the edges of his mouth. “Owen doesn’t think I know he gets up in the middle of the night to steal cookies out of the pantry. He’s not very quiet, for one, and he usually has a chocolate mustache in the morning.”

  “Has problems with authority, huh? Good luck with that.” Her gaze met his, and the smile relaxed as his own words settled between them. Something was missing, and it had been since the night he’d been knocked unconscious on this very floor. Hints of her sultry scent filled the space between them as she faced him, her hand grazing his arm. Bruising darkened the thin skin along the column of her throat as she stared up at him, and he rested his uninjured hand against the markings. Her pulse raced under his touch, and he couldn’t help but revel in the knowledge he’d done that to her. He’d affected her, just as she affected him. “Benning, you don’t have to do this until you’re ready. We can get a couple rooms in town or find another safe house—”

  He lowered his mouth to hers.

  Hell, she was so damn perfect, so damn strong. She stood there as though everything that’d occurred hadn’t fazed her when his entire world had been ripped apart. She was everything he needed right now—his anchor, his confidante, his motivation to keep going—and he’d almost lost her. Again. Only this time had been different. This time he’d truly believed he’d never see her again, and that knowledge, combined with Olivia’s pleas to turn the SUV around, nearly had him putting his daughter’s life at risk to go back for her. Her hand latched on to his arm as though she’d needed him as much as he’d been craving her, and he brought her fully against his body. Desire burned through him as she rose on her toes best as she could to get that much closer. His uninjured hand gripped her waist as he maneuvered her backward toward the hallway. “End of the hall.”

  Her exhales mingled with his as she nodded confirmation.

  The Tactical Crime Division was still running background checks on Britland Construction employees, trying to find a weakness that would lead them to a suspect in this case. Confirming his nanny had been the victim recovered from the fireplace and the discovery of the charm that might have significance to the Samantha Perry case, solidified his hunger for the woman in his arms. With all the chaos and fear spreading around them, this was what they needed. A chance to block it all out, to escape. To remember. There was nothing left for them to do tonight. Nothing that could keep them apart, and for the first time in seven years, he’d have exactly what he—

  “What are you doing?” a familiar voice asked.

  Benning jumped as he realized his daughter had been standing less than a foot away, his heart jerking in his chest. He fought to control his breathing as he stepped back from Ana. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to put a lid on the heat exploding from behind his sternum, but it was no use. He’d never been able to control himself when it came to Ana Sofia Ramirez. “What have I told you about sneaking up on people?”

  Bright blue eyes that matched his own shifted from him to Ana and back. “How am I supposed to be a private investigator if I don’t sneak?”

  Ana’s laugh raised his awareness of her all the more. She tried to hide the tint of red climbing from her neck into her cheeks with one hand, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit of that embarrassment. “She has a good point.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be in bed.” Crouching, he wrapped Olivia in a one-armed hug and tried not to think about the fact he’d nearly undressed the federal agent assigned to protect them without knowing his daughter had been in the room.

  “I want to have a sleepover in your room,” Olivia said.

  “Baby, Ana is going to sleep in my room tonight, and I’m going to be in Owen’s room.” At least, that was the plan now. Benning raised his gaze to Ana as she gave them some space as though she didn’t want any part of the conversation. He hadn’t exactly been dedicated to the idea of filling the hole Owen and Olivia’s mother had left behind when she’d died, but Ana was as much part of this family as his wife had ever been now. Maybe even more so considering what’d happened over the past three days.

  “No, that’s okay.” Ana reached for her duffel bag, pain filling her expression as she hauled it to her side. “You guys can take the big bed, and I can sleep in Olivia’s room. I’ll be fine.”

  “We should all sleep over in Daddy’s bed!” An exaggerated gasp filled the living room. Excitement lit Olivia’s features as she bounced in his arms. A brightness he hadn’t seen in days filled her eyes, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the effect. Three days. Her twin brother, the person she’d never lived a single day of her life without, had been missing for three days. Benning would take all the smiles and jumping he could get out of her.

  Then he realized what she was asking. “Honey, I’m sure Ana wants her own bed. You remember she got hurt fighting off that bad man? She needs her rest, and you have a lot of energy when you’re sleeping.”

  “But I want to have a sleepover with Ana.” In an instant his daughter—the master of manipulation—wiped the excitement from her features. Tears welled in her eyes, and everything inside him surrendered.

  Benning relaxed his chin toward his chest, pulling on the bullet wound in his shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Uh, yeah. We could do that. It’ll be fun,” Ana said.

  He snapped his head up. “What?”

  Ana’s attention bounced between him and Olivia as she motioned to his daughter’s unicorn pajamas. “It’s just... I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “I have something! It was my mom’s! I’ll go get it.” Olivia raced through the kitchen toward the other side of her house to her room, the tears gone in an instant.

  “It’s a sleepshirt I kept of Lilly’s after she died. I thought Olivia might want to wear it when she was big enough. You know, just something she could have of her mom’s.” Benning straightened. What was happening? He was the one who was supposed to be sleeping over with Ana. Not the three of them in the same bed. “But you don’t have to wear it, and you don’t have to let her guilt you into a sleepover. She denies it flat out, but she kicks in the middle of the night. Hard.”

  Hesitation tensed her shoulders.

  “Benning, I don’t want to insert myself somewhere I shouldn’t. I’m not her mom, and we’re... We’re not together anymore. So if you think this is a bad idea, I can take her twin-size bed or find a hotel room for the night.” Ana swiped her tongue between her lips, homing his attention to her mouth, and every nerve ending he owned fired in response. “But I’m not going to lie, that girl is hard to say no to.”

  “I should’ve warned you, she’s a professional manipulator.” He slid his hand into hers. “Lilly and I had an arrangement after we found out she was pregnant with the twins. We would raise our kids together to give them a stable home, love them, provide for them, but that was where our marriage ended. We were open to the possibility that, maybe, down the line there would be more between us, but it didn’t
work out that way, and Owen and Olivia have never known their mother. I can’t say I didn’t care for her at all. I did. Without her, I wouldn’t have the two best humans I could’ve asked for, but I need to make one thing clear with you, Ana.” He traced the tendons along her inner wrist, locking his gaze with hers. “I never stopped loving you.”

  Her mouth parted, her kiss-stung lips begging for his attention again.

  Olivia raced into the room. “I found it!”

  What was with this girl having the worst timing imaginable? Did she wait around corners for the chance to ambush him and Ana at every turn? Hell. His body wasn’t going to be able to take this much longer.

  “Great.” Pulling her hand from his, Ana took the sleepshirt from his daughter and smiled. Her hand found its way into Olivia’s as they all headed down the hallway toward his bedroom. Ana cast a glance over her shoulder toward him. “Looks like we’re ready for that sleepover.”

  Chapter Ten

  The sound of utensils scraping against glass plates pulled her back into reality.

  Warm blankets had been piled around her, hints of pine and soap tickling her nose, but the rest of Benning’s queen-size bed was empty. She’d fallen asleep at the edge, pressed right against the snoring six-year-old who’d worked past her defenses and straight into her heart. And the man on the other side? She could still feel the warmth of his hand sliding across hers against the headboard as Olivia slept between them. Minutes had gone by, maybe hours, as they’d drifted off to sleep, their gazes connected with one another in the dark, and she couldn’t remember a time when she’d slept so well.

  Her entire body ached, muscles she hadn’t even known existed protesting as she slowly eased her legs over the side of the bed. The wound from the pane of glass in her thigh dulled to a low throb as she settled her toes into the plush rug perfectly centered around the bed. The space—Benning’s room—was simple. Wooden nightstands on either side of the bed, with lamps that looked like they’d come straight from the pile of firewood she could see out the window now. Framed pictures of the twins had been strategically placed so he had to see them first thing in the morning, no matter which side of the bed he rolled out of.

  Ana couldn’t help but pick up the one nearest her. Of Owen. He must’ve been two—maybe three—when the photo had been taken. He’d lifted his arms straight up in the air as though he’d made a touchdown from his position in the middle of the kitchen. Then she noticed the full-size carrots set on top of each of the cabinet drawer pulls, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Pain rolled across her chest from the second bullet she’d taken, and she set her hand over the bandage. Blood soaked through the gauze, staining the sleepshirt Olivia had let her borrow. She carefully replaced the frame on the nightstand and used her uninjured leg for balance to stand. “Maldicion.”

  “One of these days you’re going to have to translate all the swear words you say when you think nobody is listening.” His voice coiled through her, reaching past the aches and pains, deep into the self-doubt and fear that’d plagued her since she’d taken on this case.

  “I got blood on Lilly’s shirt.” She faced him, nearly knocked back by the primal attraction heating her veins as she looked at him. He leaned against the door frame, muscled arms crossed over his chest, and for a split second, she couldn’t remember what she’d been so upset about. He’d changed his clothes, kept his hair damp from his most recent shower and brought her a plate of something that smelled so good her stomach lurched. Infierno, he was a god among mere mortals. And she’d been stupid enough to walk away from him. “I’m sorry. I’ll wash it before Olivia notices.”

  “Honestly, she’ll probably love it even more now.” He moved into the room, hints of the scent she’d caught from the sheets intensifying tenfold, and she couldn’t get enough. Of him. Of this place. Of the smiling faces in the picture frames set around the room. It was everything she hadn’t realized she’d wanted until now as he pinned her with that bright blue gaze. He stepped closer, offering the plate. “Thought you might be hungry.”

  “Thank you.” Awareness of how very little clothing she’d gone to sleep in warmed her straight through. The T-shirt and pair of his oversize sweats were enough to keep her warm when Olivia had stolen the blankets in the middle of the night but felt like nothing when he studied her from head to toe as he did now. She took the plate from him, her body tingling with the unrequited desire that’d shot down her spine last night before Olivia had caught them kissing. She tried focusing on the plate in her hand and not the fact they were seemingly out of range of his daughter. Eggs, waffles and bacon warmed her palm through the plate. Her favorites. Had that been on purpose? “But I should tell you my team hasn’t been able to link any of Britland Construction’s employees to this case, or the charm they recovered from your property. Whoever has Owen could’ve just taken advantage of an opportunity to hide the skull on that site. Official access be damned. I have my team looking for the rest of it. Hopefully, we can find something that will give us an ID in case the skull is never recovered.”

  “They couldn’t match ballistics from the bullet casings they recovered at the safe house, either.” Her gaze snapped to his. Pressure built behind her sternum the longer he invaded her personal space—that rich, addictive scent of his filling her lungs. He cocked his head to one side, a playful smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. A mouth she’d kissed less than twelve hours ago, a mouth she wanted more of now. Her gaze dropped to his lips in memory. No matter what happened at the end of this investigation, she’d remember that kiss. Remember him. “Agent Cantrell stopped by to fill me in this morning while you were still sleeping. I didn’t tell him you’d spent the night in my bed fighting a six-year-old for a corner of the mattress.”

  A laugh escaped her chest, and she flinched against the ache, sliding her hand over the wound. She set the plate on the end of the bed to avoid dropping it at her feet. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.”

  “Here.” Benning helped her down onto the bed with his uninjured hand, then disappeared into the bathroom for two breaths before reappearing with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, medical tape and fresh gauze in hand. “We should change your bandage.”

  “Already prepared,” she said. “Were you expecting I’d get shot?”

  “I live with two sociopaths who don’t learn their lessons about running through the house with sharp objects.” Setting everything across the end of the bed one-handed, he crouched in front of her, his gaze level with her chest. Callused fingers made quick work of pulling the collar of her shirt lower, removing the bandage over her stitches and cleaning both fresh and crusted blood from the area. Every move he made, every swipe of his fingers against her skin, hiked her heart rate into overdrive. All she had to do was reach out and touch him...and she’d have everything she’d ever wanted. “I can’t tell you how many times I had to clean the gash on Owen’s head after he ran into the brick fireplace because he wouldn’t leave the damn thing alone.”

  She hissed as the cotton swab he was using pulled at her stitches, and stinging pain slipped past her constant hold on her reactions.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve got to clean it all or it might get infected.”

  “It’s fine.” She wanted to turn away, to hide the fact she wasn’t completely under control at that moment from him, but there was nowhere for her to run. She wanted to be the woman who’d stopped at nothing to protect him and his children from harm for him, who’d stared down a killer without blinking, but the numbness and mental distance had started to fade. He’d gotten beneath her skin, lit the darkest parts of herself she’d kept hidden from everyone around her, and she was starting to lose the battle. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Locking her teeth together, she released the breath she’d been holding as the stinging dulled and studied his work. “You’re pretty good at this.”

  “Well, you’re pretty good at getting yourself shot.” He tr
ailed his hands to the bandage strapped across her upper thigh, igniting a path of heat and goose bumps. “And stabbed. Like I said, I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  “Hey, let’s get one thing straight, okay? The window stabbed me, and that was not my fault.” His smile melted the remaining tension down her spine and fisted tight around her heart. Always the giver, always looking out for someone else. That was the kind of man he was. Caring, considerate. She didn’t deserve him. “Would you change any of it? The calls from school, the trips to the emergency room, sweeping cookie crumbs out of sheets on a daily basis.”

  “Not a thing.” Peeling back the tape from the wound in her thigh, he changed out the dressing quickly, but his hand didn’t fall away when he was finished. In an instant a rush of sensation fired through her. There was a breath, one moment, where her fear released its hold on her, and she leaned in to finish what they’d started last night.

  “Daddy?” Olivia asked from the door.

  “Damn it, I really need to put a bell on that girl.” Benning ducked his head, his hand sliding from her thigh, and he turned toward his daughter standing in the door frame. “What is it, baby? Are you still hungry?”

  “I miss Owen.” Sunlight streamed through the windows centered over each nightstand beside the bed, highlighting the well of tears in the girl’s eyes, and something inside Ana broke. Something she hadn’t let herself feel since realizing her baby sister wasn’t going to be coming home. No matter how many times Ana and her brothers had searched, they’d had to accept their sister was gone. “Can he come home now, Daddy? Please?”