She bit back a sigh as she tucked the blankets around Samuel’s shoulders. She looked forward to settling down with all of them. James would have his own room, his own bed. She wanted badly for him to have a private sanctuary where he could put something down and have it still be there when he came back for it later.
From what little she’d seen of Annie’s life, it had been a succession of dreary little flats occupied by too many people. Along with the children and her man-of-the-moment, Jillian knew there had been transients walking through at all hours of the day and night. Any toys and clothes she’d purchased for her nephew over the years had either been sold for drugs or stolen by her sister’s friends. James had simply gotten used to never having anything that he could call his own.
She pulled back the sheets on the bed, nearly delirious at the thought of sleep, then remembered she’d left her glass of water in the living room. She slipped back into the living room and saw that Luke had taken up his position by the windows again. Sighing, she reached for the glass. She glanced up to find Luke watching her closely.
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“No. I was thinking about Annie—the message from her, and the call a few days later.” She glanced away from the compelling intensity of his stare, afraid of what she might inadvertently reveal.
“What’d she say?”
“The usual. She was in trouble again.” She frowned as she remembered their conversations. “I would hear from her once or twice a year, usually when she needed money. This time she sounded very frightened. She said…”
To his credit, Luke waited patiently for her to continue. She swallowed convulsively around the dry lump in her throat. “She said it was really big. Annie wanted me to come over straightaway. And I was to go directly to the apartment downstairs from hers. She said she would meet me there with the kids.” She glanced up to find him watching her intently.
“I got the feeling that she was running away and that she was going to leave the children and take off.”
“What happened?”
She roped her fingers together to keep them from shaking. “I tried all night to call her back, but I never reached her. The phone rang and rang the first few times and then it was disconnected.” She shrugged her shoulders and glanced away. “By morning I was absolutely frantic. I’d already called the airline to change my tickets. The earliest flight I could get on standby was a whole day later.”
“It must have been hard to wait.”
She nodded, her eyes still focused on a spot on the far wall. If she concentrated then she wouldn’t break down. “It was horrible. I felt useless. And then the next day finally arrived, when I could finally do something. I got the call from the police as I was leaving for the airport.”
“Who called you?”
“I don’t remember. I was in shock, I guess. It was a man. He said my sister was dead. Then he began talking about the children.”
“That must have been rough.”
“I didn’t even know about Sarah. Can you imagine how that felt? I remember the call so vividly. I thought the man was mistaken when he said three children.” She shook her head sadly as she glanced over at the crib. “And now I simply can’t imagine life without her.”
“What is she? Four, five months old?”
Jillian shrugged. “I think closer to five. James seems to think she was born in January. He said it was still winter.”
“She should be sleeping through the night by now.”
“That’s what all the books say, but they also say that babies should be on a schedule.” She glanced up and smiled. “We haven’t seemed to get that part down yet. And I’m sure…” She hesitated over what she was about to say. Even thinking it seemed disloyal.
“With all of Annie’s problems, poor little Sarah probably wasn’t on any kind of schedule with her, either.”
“Were you two close before her drug problem?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Close enough, I guess. We were five years apart so I was far more interested in her than she was in me. Annie seemed so grown up and there I was this clumsy, gormless twit always wanting to tag along.”
Luke smiled at her description as he settled back in his chair, his hand dropping away from the curtain. “Gormless is bad then?”
“Indeed it is.” She traced a figure-eight pattern in the condensation on the side of her glass. “I have a picture of her. Would you like to see it?”
She pushed off the door frame and crossed the room, delving into her purse before he had the opportunity to refuse. With her wallet in hand, she retraced her steps. “Here’s one from my last trip. Samuel was a tiny babe. See? That’s him in Annie’s arms and there’s James standing near her.”
She retreated carefully as he studied the picture, not sure that standing close to Luke Gianetti was a good idea. She had confirmation when he raised his head to stare at her with those magnetic eyes.
“She looks like you. Hair’s a little lighter. Same eyes. Same smile.” He glanced down at the picture again and back at her before returning it. “She looks old, though. Tired.”
“Annie was so pretty. All the boys were in love with her. She broke several hearts when she hightailed it to the States.” She tucked the treasured photo back into her wallet. “What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“One brother. He’s a surgeon in Chicago.” He turned off the television and Jillian watched the glow of the set as it faded into darkness. She knew it was a not so subtle hint to belt up and go to sleep.
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Yeah. My parents still live there. They’re retired. Dad was a cop and my mom owned a bakery with my aunt Loretta.”
“That must have been lovely.” She smiled in the dark. “I don’t think I could’ve resisted all those sweets.”
“I still can’t resist my mother’s canoli. I don’t get home much anymore, but it’s the first thing I think of when I step off the plane at O’Hare.” He chuckled as he admitted it. “My brother was more of a bread man. For me it was dessert, but for Vinnie it was Italian bread. He could go through a whole loaf in about ten minutes. His wife finally put a stop to that a couple years ago. Said it was bad for business for a heart surgeon to have love handles.”
“Older or younger brother?”
“Vin’s older by six years.”
“A heart surgeon and a secret agent. Your parents must be terribly proud of you.”
“It’s always nice to have a doctor in the family.”
Jillian didn’t miss the slight. “Does your brother have children?”
“Three. All boys. Oldest is about ten.” He stood and stretched, effectively ending their conversation. “You’d better get to bed. It’s nearly morning.”
“All right. Good night, Luke.” Throwing caution to the wind for the second time that night, she smiled as she pushed through the bedroom door. “I’ll save you some room, in case you change your mind.”
She’d finally fallen asleep. Her soft, even breathing was deep and undisturbed. Luke knew this because he was standing a mere two feet away. He’d been sitting at the tiny table, perched in an uncomfortable vinyl chair for the better part of the past hour. Watching. Listening. Waiting. Outside, the night was still and quiet save for the occasional gust of wind that wafted past their room gently lifting the cheap patio chairs that stood outside their door. Luke would’ve almost called it peaceful. Almost.
His gut didn’t think so. And for that reason, he couldn’t shake his sense of foreboding. He just didn’t know what his gut was trying to tell him. For the first time in years, he was afraid. And it wasn’t about drug dealers. And it wasn’t about death. Those, he could face. Easily.
No. The urgency twisting his insides made him want to run for cover. He glanced down at Jilly’s head on the pillow. True to her word, she’d left him plenty of room.
It was her, dammit. He still wanted her. Badly. His need was an ever-present ache. He was cool with the wanti
ng part. It confirmed that he wasn’t completely dead inside. It was the thought of wanting more than sex that made his blood run cold.
He took another step closer to the bed. It was the thought of taking a chance, of even contemplating it, that had him cursing himself. How stupid could he get? He’d had his heart ripped out a long time ago. As far as he knew, it hadn’t grown back.
He reached out a tentative hand and gently stroked the hair back from her face. And closed his eyes on the rush of pleasure that simply touching her gave him. The long, wavy strands were soft and silky as they slipped through his fingers. And the scent of her hair was driving him nuts.
It was the thought of taking her home to meet his family that made his stomach churn with warning. It was the stupid images that had clouded his brain as he’d talked with her. Images of James and Samuel playing with his nephews. Images of him, God help him, his arm around Jillian as he introduced her to his crazy relatives. Of pulling her into his parents’ tiny kitchen and kissing her senseless up against their ancient refrigerator.
He jerked his hand back and retreated to his chair by the window. He ran one hand down his face in a futile effort to regain some control and then shook his head derisively.
“Hey, G-Man, you’ve definitely lost your mind this time.” The nickname reminded him of Murphy. Thank God, he’d be here soon. His partner always called him G-Man, partly because it was short for Gianetti and partly as a joke. Luke was as far from a typical government agent as one would ever find. His partner was more by-the-book than he was and Murph never missed the opportunity to remind him that he never would have cut it as a Fed anywhere else. The other agencies were too rigid. Too many rules. He liked the uncertainty of fieldwork too much, liked the freedom of calling his shots, building his cases from scratch and following through to the end—no matter where it led him.
He checked his watch in the still-dark room. Where the hell was Murphy? He needed him here, needed Murph to create some distance between him and Jill before he went and did something really stupid. Against his better judgment, he’d left the phone number to the room on his partner’s voice mail. It was either that or keep running to the pay phone. And at two o’clock in the morning, that probably wasn’t such a smart move. Talk about obvious. To the locals, it wouldn’t take much to raise a red flag of warning. And a strange man using the pay phone in the wee hours of the night would definitely fit the bill.
He trusted Danny Murphy, his partner for more than four years. Post-Linda years, he liked to think of them. Despite its size, working for the DEA was a pretty insular experience. Personal news traveled fast. And everyone had heard about Linda Gianetti. But undercover work had its benefits. Luke was gone so much of the time that the rampant speculation about his wife had gradually faded. Not that Murphy didn’t remember what had happened four years earlier. He just knew better than to ever bring it up.
His mind drifted automatically to the puzzle at hand. Why had the safe house been blown? Jilly had raised a valid question. Were they still after him or her? Neither? Nah. He crossed out “neither.” There was no such thing as coincidence.
A more troubling question nagging at the back of his brain was the possibility of a leak. How had Sloan and his dopers learned the location of the safe house? That was highly classified information. Either Sloan had a lot more money and manpower than he’d originally estimated or someone pretty high up the chain was getting nervous.
That led him to replay the scenario with the desk clerk. Luke had wondered why the clerk had been killed when it clearly hadn’t been necessary. The goons could’ve rented the room and then taken all of them out with the silencer they’d used on the motel clerk. Sloan was either getting careless or desperate. And for a sleazebag like Sloan to be desperate, then the kingpin at the top of the pipeline had to be a pretty scary individual.
And if there was a leak, was it DEA or local task force? Was it Spartaville or Charlotte? Or somewhere far away from the action? Clearly he was missing something. Something big. He closed his eyes and fell back in the chair, allowing the pieces of the investigation to free associate in his mind. Given time, they would all fall into place. They always did. The question was, how much time did he have left?
He turned to his right and took stock of all the sleeping bodies he was responsible for and felt his heartbeat accelerate a little. Women and children. An operative’s worst nightmare.
Luke couldn’t afford any mistakes on this one. Personally, he wasn’t afraid to die. Most days he didn’t particularly care one way or the other. But innocent people dying on his watch? That was a whole different ball game. He couldn’t let it happen again.
Out of a sound sleep she bolted up, her heart racing. It was still dark. Jilly was half out of bed when a set of hands pushed her gently back against the pillows. “Sarah?” Her speech sounded heavy and slurred to her own ears.
“Shh. I’ve got her. She’s fine.”
“Bottle.”
“Honey, she’s nearly finished it.”
“She can’t haf honey…she’s not—she’s…old enough.” Jillian frowned at the chuckling sound. What was so bloody funny?
She must have spoken out loud, because he laughed again before answering.
“Your accent is very pronounced in the dead of night, lovie.”
The deep, masculine voice was husky and soothing to her ears and the warm, stroking hand comforting against her cheek. She turned into his palm and mumbled what she deemed a highly appropriate response before she sighed and slid back in to sleep.
Jillian blinked the sleep from her eyes and glanced over at the window. She slid down between the sheets and sighed with pleasure at the cool crisp feel of cotton against her legs. Sunlight struggled to filter through the heavy drapes. She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember where she was. “What time is it?”
“Too early. Sleep a few more minutes.”
The drowsy voice belonged to Luke. As did the arm that was draped across her stomach. And that was clearly his chest that she was tucked up against. Her heart began beating wildly and she came more fully awake. Dear Lord, those were his long, muscular legs tangled up with hers. And didn’t they feel incredible?
“You having a heart attack or are you just happy to see me?”
She couldn’t contain the shiver that swept through her at his whispered words. She took in a ragged breath. How could anyone sound so unbelievably sexy this early in the morning?
“I thought you said this was a bad idea.” Her voice came out on a squeak and she winced as she cleared her throat. His response was to pull her back against him when she tried to move away.
“I think I’ve changed my mind. I think the idea has merit.” He dropped a kiss on the side of her neck and chuckled when she bit back a soft moan.
“Stop that. The children will be awake in moments.” Jillian knew that it was more of a plea than a demand, but she prayed that he wouldn’t hear the panic in her voice.
“Kids can sleep through anything.”
“Luke!” She turned to face him then and flattened her hands on his chest in an attempt to put an end to his nonsense. His wavy, surfer-gold hair was tousled from sleep, the color matching the stubble on his cheeks. She rolled her eyes at his lopsided grin and the mischievous glint in his eyes. And in spite of herself, she laughed. “Please, we can’t do this,” she whispered. “We simply can’t.”
“Why cahn’t we?” He deliberately dragged out his pronunciation to match hers.
“Are you making fun?”
“Would I do that?”
“I’m not the one with the accent. It’s all of you—”
He swooped in for a kiss and a moment later, she forgot what they had been talking about. It was all she could do to stay conscious under the violent wave of sensation Luke aroused. Any second now she would spin completely out of control. He was, hands down, the best kiss she’d ever experienced.
Damn him. Why did he have to be so bloody tempting?
; It was Luke who finally pulled back. Luke who heard Sarah begin to fuss in her portable crib. Luke who still had his wits about him mere seconds after removing his tongue from her mouth. She, on the other hand, wanted to weep with frustration.
Instead she fell back against the pillows, stunned silent as he padded across the room to scoop Sarah up from her crib.
“Yo, Jill…”
“What?” She lifted herself up on her elbows to meet his gaze. She watched him warily as he crossed the room and tried desperately not to notice how delightful he looked with a sleepy baby nestled against one chiseled shoulder.
“You’re right. We definitely shouldn’t be doing that with the kids around.”
She managed to smile at him despite the longing that grew more insistent with each passing moment. She smiled in spite of the hollow ache in her chest, an ache she was beginning to suspect had nothing to do with wanting him physically. “I’m right?”
The intensity of his gaze forced heat back into her cheeks and she swallowed hard. Jillian didn’t know which was worse, when he smiled or when he simply told her with his eyes what he was thinking.
“Yeah. When we finally make love, we are definitely gonna need to be alone.”
“We, uh, will?” Not “if.” He’d said when. Her mouth was so dry she could barely formulate words. And her heart pounded so loud, the racket in her ears nearly drowned out his voice.
The smile returned to his lips and she could tell it was all he could do to keep from grinning. “My gut tells me you’re gonna make a lot of noise.”
“Your stomach seems to tell you a great deal.”
“Not my stomach. My gut.”
“Your gut might be wrong, you know.” She scowled at him and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “In fact, I have it on good authority that your gut is way off on this one.”
“Honey, my gut is never wrong.” He placed Sarah into her outstretched arms, deliberately brushing against her as he made the transfer. At her involuntary shiver of awareness, he nodded in confirmation and lowered his voice. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
For Her Protection Page 12
