Christmas Guardian

by Delores Fossen

  It would give Jordan some time to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

  He’d known from the moment he first laid eyes on her that they’d eventually land in bed. He’d also known this couldn’t be just casual sex. Kinley wasn’t the casual-sex type. Plus, she had feelings for him. He wasn’t stupid. He could see that.

  And he had feelings for her.

  On the surface that didn’t seem like much of a problem, and it might not have been if it weren’t for all their baggage. It’d been so long since he’d let anyone get close to him. So long since he’d shared himself with anyone. Gus had changed that. The little boy had made him see that love wasn’t necessarily a painful commitment. That the good outweighed any of the bad.

  But there was Kinley to consider.

  Maybe—just maybe—what she felt for him wasn’t love or a similar emotion but part of her gratitude for taking care of Gus.

  Jordan groaned softly, pulled on a pair of black jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt and his boots. He shoved his PDA into his back pocket. The clothes weren’t exactly festive wear for Christmas Day, but they suited his mood. He’d gotten himself personally involved at a time when it was imperative that he stay detached and objective.

  Personal involvement meant a loss of focus.

  It could mean making the situation more dangerous. And that’s why he had to put some emotional distance between Kinley and himself. Yes, he’d had this pep talk before, but this time he had to listen.

  Really.

  He went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, something he’d been doing a lot of lately. Kinley’s taste was still in his mouth. Her scent was on his skin.

  Hell. He could still feel her.

  And hear her. “Jordan.” The way she’d said his name when he was still inside her.

  “Jordan?”

  That jerked him out of his daydream. Because her voice wasn’t some great memory. It was real. Kinley had just walked into the kitchen.

  She’d dressed. Thank goodness. Well, maybe not. He could remember what it was like to have her naked despite the dark brown pants and tan top that she wore now. Her hair was still tousled, and her face flushed with color that could only come from a great night of sex.

  Okay, so maybe that was his imagination, too.

  But it wasn’t his imagination that he wanted her all over again. So much for his latest resolution to distance himself from her.

  “You’re up early,” he commented, just so he wasn’t standing there gawking at her.

  “Yes.” She sighed.

  Uh-oh. That wasn’t the sound of a satisfied woman. It was the sound of a troubled one, and Jordan thought he knew why. “You’re having regrets?”

  She blinked. “No. Absolutely not.” And with that, she went to him and kissed him as if she were about to haul him off to bed. She smiled. “I didn’t thank you for my Christmas present.” She kissed him again. “Thank you.”

  Since he liked her way of showing thanks, he kissed her right back. “You’re welcome.” He eased away from her so he could see her face. “But you could have thanked me later. I was hoping you’d get a few more hours of sleep.”

  The sighing look returned. “I tried, but I kept thinking about the notes.” She shook her head. “There’s a problem, but I don’t know what’s wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She grabbed two cups and began to pour them both some of the fresh brew. “I’ve tested every single formula that Dexter and Brenna listed in common. None of them could have produced an antidote. Not even close. So, I guess I need to rerun everything—” Her head whipped up, and she looked at him.

  Jordan knew what she was thinking. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe none of the formulas could produce an antidote because Dexter never created one.”

  She set the coffeepot aside, probably because her hand was suddenly too shaky to hold it. “No antidote,” Kinley repeated. Then, she groaned. “God, it makes sense. Every time I’d ask Dexter about how the formula was coming, he’d stall me. He locked up his research, and that’s the only part of the project that he prevented me from seeing.”

  Jordan nodded. “And it explains why he wanted to destroy the lab and fake his own death. He’d already taken a fortune in research money, and he couldn’t deliver.” Unless…“You worked on the project. Could the antidote have even been made?”

  “I didn’t think so,” she readily answered. “In fact, when Dexter took on the project, we argued about it because I knew it would take years just to come up with a workable formula, and by then the investors would already be screaming for results. But I think the idea of all that money was too tempting for him to pass up.”

  Oh, yeah. Because a man who’d endanger the mother of his child probably wasn’t driven by his heart but rather by his wallet.

  Kinley bracketed her hands on the granite counter and groaned. “Shelly and heaven knows who else died because of this. Gus, you and I were placed in danger. My son had to live in hiding since the moment he was born, and all of that was because of a lie that Dexter told.”

  And the worst thing—without an antidote, they didn’t have anything to bargain with. Burke and Strahan likely wouldn’t believe Kinley if she told them that Dexter had pulled off one big scam before faking his death and then being accidentally killed when he set explosives meant to eliminate her.

  No.

  As investors, they wanted only their profits.

  “So where does this leave us?” she asked.

  “First, I’ll start with contacting the FBI. We’ll give them copies of all the notes so they can run their own independent tests.”

  “That could take days or weeks,” she pointed out. “The only reason I was able to do it so quickly is because I was familiar with the research.”

  True. It would take the FBI time, but there was no way around that. However, that was just one step. He had to do more, much more, to ensure Gus’s and Kinley’s safety.

  “I have a friend who works at the San Antonio Express-News. I’ll talk to him about doing some sort of investigative report so he can leak that the antidote was a fraud. Between that and an FBI report, we might be able to convince Burke, Strahan and anyone else that there’s no reason to come after you.”

  He saw something else in her eyes. Something he hadn’t seen before. Hope. “You really think that’s possible?”

  “I do. It might not happen today, or even next week, but it will happen.” And that meant soon he’d be able to bring Gus home.

  Of course, that posed a whole new set of problems. Kinley would want custody of her son. That was natural. But he wanted custody, too, and somehow, they’d have to work that out.

  First, though, he needed to call the FBI.

  He grabbed his coffee. Then he grabbed a kiss from Kinley. It made her smile, and he kissed her again just because he liked the way her smile lit her face.

  “Work,” he reminded himself when the third kiss turned hot and French.

  Jordan forced himself away from her and headed for his office. However, he made it only a few steps before his PDA beeped. He took it out, looked at the screen and didn’t like what he saw. It was a secure text message from Desmond.

  Code Black, the message said.

  Jordan stopped, set his coffee back on the counter and raced to his office.

  “What’s wrong?” Kinley asked, running behind him.

  “We might have a problem.” He dropped down into the chair and typed in some codes on the computer. The first was to verify that the message was indeed from Desmond.

  It was.

  Well, it’d come from his private secure line anyway. That didn’t mean someone hadn’t tapped into it and used it.

  Jordan quickly called the man, and Desmond answered on the first ring. “What’s happening?” Jordan asked. “Why the Code Black?”

  “I came into Sentron to clear out my things and stopped by the command center,” Desmond said, his words running together. “I ran a secur
ity check on your estate.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I figured something would go wrong. I don’t trust Burke, Cody or Strahan.”

  Then the feeling was mutual. But Jordan didn’t trust Desmond, either. He punched in the code to run his own security check of the grounds and house. There were no flags, no indications that anything had been breached.

  “I don’t see anything,” he told Desmond. “And none of the sensors have been triggered.”

  “Because the breach didn’t exactly happen on your property. Jordan, you have to believe me. Look for it. It’s just on the other side of the west fence in the greenbelt. If you look, there’s no way you can miss it.”

  The greenbelt was a heavily treed area just about a hundred yards from his bedroom.

  “I can’t tell how much time you have left,” Desmond warned.

  Jordan ignored the man’s increasingly frantic tone. For the moment, anyway.

  With the phone sandwiched between his shoulder and his ear, Jordan gave the security cameras an adjustment. The first was useless. He couldn’t see over the high stone privacy fence. But the second camera by the pool house was elevated enough to see down into the thick trees and underbrush. He’d designed it that way for just this type of security risk.

  There it was.

  A dull silver metal box with a timer on top.

  Jordan zoomed in on that timer.

  And cursed.

  He got up and hit the buttons on the console to clear the codes so that no one could get access to and use the security feed to locate Gus. In the same motion, Jordan grabbed on to Kinley’s arm. He started to run toward the garage. There wasn’t time to get supplies or grab anything.

  They had to get out of there now.

  “What does Code Black mean?” Kinley asked, her voice a tangle of nerves and adrenaline.

  “It means we have to get out of here. There’s a bomb, and it’s set to go off in two minutes.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two minutes.

  Kinley was afraid that wasn’t enough time to escape, though Jordan was obviously going to try to do just that.

  He plowed them through the house and into the garage and shoved her into a black Lexus. He made a quick check of his PDA, the screen showing the images from the various security cameras of the estate’s surveillance system. Jordan no doubt did that to make sure no one was out there waiting, and he must have seen that it was safe because he pressed the remote control on the dashboard to open the garage door.

  The moment the door raised, he barreled out of there.

  “What about your neighbors?” Kinley asked, putting on her seat belt.

  “They should be far enough away. This bomb was almost certainly set just to damage only my estate. I hope.”

  Yes, that was her hope as well. It was bad enough that they were in danger. No need to put anyone else smack in the middle of this nightmare that just wouldn’t end.

  “There’s a gun and magazine clips in the glove compartment. Hand them to me,” Jordan instructed. His gaze was darting all around, probably looking to see if they were about to be ambushed.

  Kinley hadn’t said that ambush fear aloud. There was no need. Both of them knew that this bomb could be just a ruse to draw them out. Maybe the person responsible thought Gus was still inside, and this would pull her baby out into the open, too.

  And that infuriated her.

  How dare this SOB risk endangering her child all to get a formula that didn’t even exist.

  She took the gun from the glove compartment and handed it to Jordan. He gripped it in his left hand while he sped away.

  “Should I call nine-one-one?” Kinley asked. There were three magazine clips, and one by one, she handed those to him as well.

  “No. Not at this point anyway. Besides, I didn’t bring a cell with me. The GPS in them makes them easier to track. Don’t worry, the neighbors will hear the explosion soon enough and report it.”

  No doubt. It wouldn’t be a peaceful start to their Christmas morning.

  It was dark, still several hours from sunrise, but the streetlights helped. What didn’t help was the cold, thick pre-morning mist that cast an eerie blanket on the road.

  Like Jordan, she looked around and didn’t see anyone following them.

  “The vehicle’s behind us,” Jordan told her.

  That caused her heart to skip a couple of beats. “What? Where?” Kinley looked again and shook her head, and then she spotted the car. No headlights. That’s why she had missed it. But it was there, all right.

  Someone was following them.

  “Stay low in the seat,” Jordan insisted. “The glass is bulletproof, but I don’t want to take any chances.” And he hit the accelerator even harder.

  There were no other cars out and about. That wasn’t a surprise. It was, after all, the wee hours of Christmas morning. Still, with the roads slick with the condensation from the mist, it wasn’t safe to be going eighty miles an hour on a residential street. But they had no choice. Which led Kinley to her next thought.

  What did this person plan to do?

  The bomb had perhaps been set to make them evacuate in a hurry. And they had done exactly that. Maybe the next step was to intercept them and kidnap her.

  Or to break into the damaged estate and look for Gus.

  She silently cursed. It all went back to that damn formula, and it wouldn’t do any good to tell the person that it was a sham. No. That meant she and Jordan were both in grave danger all over again.

  Kinley checked the clock on the dashboard. Judging from her calculations, two minutes had already passed, and she’d heard no explosion. Of course, they were far enough away that it still could have happened.

  Or not.

  “You think Desmond was telling the truth?” she asked, checking the mirror again. The car following them was still there, and the mist cloaked it so that she couldn’t see who was in the driver’s seat.

  “Maybe.” Jordan turned the steering wheel and took them into a sharp curve. The tires squealed in protest of the excessive speed. Behind them, the other car did the same.

  “I know you said we can’t call the police, but is that where we’re going—to police headquarters?” Kinley asked.

  “No. If we do that, this person will back off. Then we’ll have to go through this again and again. Until I stop him.” Jordan glanced at her. “This morning, I’m going to stop him.”

  She shook her head, not understanding. “But how?”

  He didn’t answer right away, and that sent an icy chill through her. “This person wants you, and if I try to get in the way, there’ll be an attempt to eliminate me.”

  “Oh, God. You’re talking about going head-to-head with this person so you can sacrifice yourself? Jordan, you don’t know who he is, or how many hired guns he has with him.”

  “It doesn’t matter. This has to stop. We won’t get Gus back until it does, and that’s why it ends here. I’m sick and tired of playing games with this fool.”

  She couldn’t exactly argue with the need for this to end, but the question was, how could Jordan make that happen? And better yet, where?

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “The training facility.”

  Of course. It was the place Jordan had built, and it had excellent security. That was the good news. On the downside, it was also in an isolated area where they might become trapped if things got worse.

  She was afraid things would definitely get worse.

  Kinley made another check of the rearview mirror. The other car was still there, following them, which meant it would also follow them to the warehouse. Then this head-to-head confrontation would happen.

  “I have weapons at the training facility,” he explained. “And I know the place like the back of my hand. I can have you stay in the command center, where you’ll be safe, and I can put an end to this.”

  Yes, by putting himself in a position where he’d be far from safe. “I w
ant to help you,” she insisted. Kinley couldn’t let him face this alone.

  “Good. Because from the command center you’ll be able to see what’s going on. You can control the lights, the temperature, even the weather. There’s an overhead sprinkler system to simulate a hard rain. You can watch what’s going on with the monitors and can tell me where anyone is. And you can do all of that while you’re safe behind the bulletproof glass.”

  She didn’t approve of the idea of Jordan taking all the physical risks, but at least she could help him.

  Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

  Keeping the same high speed, Jordan ripped through the streets and drove toward the warehouse. With each mile ticking off the odometer, her heartbeat pounded even harder. The only thing that kept her from panicking was the thought of Gus. This would help him. This would make him safe.

  It had to work.

  Jordan made the final turn to the warehouse. He still didn’t slow down, but he looked around. Not just in the rearview mirror but all around them. Probably checking to make sure they weren’t about to be ambushed. If there were gunmen positioned nearby, she certainly didn’t see them.

  Of course, that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

  Jordan used his PDA to open the massive doors to the warehouse. He still didn’t slow down. He raced through the opening, and only then did he slam on the brakes. There were the sounds and the smells of the tires burning rubber onto the concrete, and he couldn’t bring the vehicle to a full stop until he was about halfway into the training facility.

  Kinley looked behind them and saw the other car coming. Oh, mercy. It was headed right into the warehouse as well. If the driver made it inside, there wouldn’t be time for Jordan and her to get into place.

  Jordan had obviously anticipated that. With his fingers moving fast, he coded in something on his PDA again, and the warehouse doors closed.

  The other car slammed into the metal door.

  The crash echoed through the warehouse, and with that deafening noise drumming through her head, they got out.

  “Get to the command center now!” Jordan shouted.

  Kinley hit the concrete running, but she also glanced over her shoulder. The car had indeed crashed into the warehouse, but the wrecked front end of the vehicle had prevented the doors from closing all the way. There was at least a two-foot gap of space.