Lone Rider

by Lauren Bach

  Tess shot him a quelling look. “We can find our own bras, thank you.”

  Turning away she rifled through another rack of bras. He did have a point. Unlike her stomach, her already ample bustline seemed to be increasing daily. Perhaps a maternity bra was in order.

  Grey whistled softly, getting her attention. He held up a pair of deep blue bikini panties. “Size 5, right?” His not-so-subtle reminders that he remembered her underwear size from their time together rankled her. And excited her.

  By the time she finished selecting bras, he had picked out socks and a few nightshirts. Plus a rainbow of silky panties. In the space of fifteen minutes she’d been outfitted.

  They zoomed through men’s wear where Grey efficiently selected T-shirts, jeans and flannel shirts, all in dark colors. She wondered what he’d look like wearing those black jeans and a black T-shirt. Both tight. With his dark hair and silver eyes...

  She watched with curiosity as he selected prepackaged boxer shorts, threw them in the cart.

  “This isn’t nearly as much fun as picking out your underwear,” he teased.

  She shrugged. “It’s educational. I thought you were a white-cotton briefs kind of guy.”

  He winked. “So you remember what I was wearing back then, too.”

  Tess felt her face flush as his meaning hit her. Actually Dallas rarely wore underwear. How many times had she admired him naked?

  She moved away, ducking around a display to avoid his eyes. “Uh, I think the last thing we need are shoes.”

  The first pair of sneakers she tried on fit perfectly. Unfortunately the sizes Grey needed were stacked beyond reach on overhead shelves. As he searched for a stepladder she wandered into the next department.

  Immediately she froze, staring. The infant department.

  She looked at the display of cribs, bassinets and changing tables, her eyes wide. Suspended from the ceiling were hundreds of stuffed animals, forming a fuzzy canopy over another display of strollers, high chairs, and playpens.

  To her right was a rack of tiny, frilly dresses. On her left were equally tiny suits for boys. She touched a miniature football jersey of soft terry cloth. Funny, she had a sudden feeling she carried a boy. Maternal instinct?

  She sensed Grey behind her and didn’t flinch this time when he placed an arm around her. “Anything in particular catch your eye?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t realize they had so much... stuff for babies. How do you know where to start?”

  “I take it you’ve never been around infants before.”

  She shook her head. “My brother’s not married. All my cousins are younger. My best friend let me hold her baby once. It was so tiny, I was scared to death I’d drop it.” She ran her fingers along the polished edge of a brass cradle, rocking it.

  Grey squeezed her shoulders, thinking about the half dozen nieces and nephews he adored. “You’ll do fine. It’s not that hard, really.”

  She twisted free, staring at him before pointing toward a display. “It’s not hard? Just look at all the different types of baby bottles. Every size, shape, and color. How in the world do you decide which one to use?”

  He shrugged. “The first decision is whether to breast-feed or not. I think that’s the healthiest choice for the baby, but it’s not for everyone. Most of those decorated bottles are for older babies. The decisions for newborns are actually fairly simple.”

  “Is that the voice of experience?” She had never asked Grey point-blank if he had children.

  “I’ve fathered no children,” Grey interjected. “Except this one.”

  Light as air, his hand brushed intimately across his abdomen, causing her to draw a sharp breath. Flustered, she turned away, pushing the heavy shopping cart as far away from the baby department as she could get.

  Grey caught up with her, slowing her flight by placing a hand on the cart. He drew her close, stroking her hair, calming her. Then he caught her head between his hands, forcing her to look at him.

  The stark bewilderment in her eyes tugged at his heart. “I know that with everything else going on you’ve barely had time to adjust to the idea you’re pregnant. But I’m here for you, and I hope you’ll let me play an active part in your pregnancy.”

  Another couple drifted close, preventing Tess from responding. She stepped away, brooding, content to let Grey push the cart.

  Just what did he mean by that? How much of a part did he plan to play? Daddy? Husband? How much did she want him to?

  She glanced at his profile. Remembering... This was the man who’d taught her the physical pleasure unique to male and female. She’d almost fallen in love with him. Or thought she had, only to find out he wasn’t at all what she thought. And now she carried his child.

  While Grey was attentive and supportive, she still wasn’t exactly sure whether he viewed the baby as anything more than an obligation. Her kettle of fish grew more perplexing by the day.

  Grey stopped at a glass display counter containing jewelry. “We need wedding bands. What size ring do you wear?”

  Wedding bands. Her heart lurched. She told him her size, thankful he didn’t ask her to try on one of the simple gold bands he selected. It seemed too intimate all of a sudden. No longer a game.

  By the time they made it through toiletries and cosmetics, Tess’ stomach was growling again.

  They hauled their purchases to the car and stowed them in the back. To her dismay, they drove another thirty minutes before stopping to eat. She knew by the randomness of their route that Grey was being cautious, still making certain they weren’t being followed.

  They finally stopped at a small cafe, dining on salads and fried chicken. Tess was relieved not to have to eat in the car again. Halfway through her meal, though, Tess pushed her salad away. The food didn’t seem to agree with her.

  Grey looked up from his plate. “What’s wrong?”

  The throbbing had started up again in her hands. In fact, she ached all over. “My hands are sore.”

  Reaching in his coat pocket, Grey retrieved the bottle of painkillers.

  “I thought we’d stop for the night near Raleigh. It’s not that far, maybe an hour from the North Carolina line. Can you make it?”

  She shivered against a sudden chill. “When we get there I want to soak in a tub full of hot water. For three days.”

  The thought of her naked in a tub of bubbles made Grey want to leap over the table. Instead, he reached across, covering her hand with his.

  “Let’s go.”

  By the time they reached Raleigh it was dark. Grey stopped for gas at a small service station.

  “I need to use the pay phone inside to check with Barry,” he said.

  Tess opted to stay in the car. Her headache had gotten worse in spite of the medicine she’d taken, and now her stomach lurched.

  Afraid she was getting sick, she rolled down the window, hoping fresh air would help. Instead she got a whiff of gas fumes. Instantly she grew nauseated.

  Opening the car door, she raced toward the side of the building where the rest-room sign hung. She reached for the handle of the women’s room door, only to find it locked.

  Frustrated and miserably sick, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the cold metal door. The coolness felt good against her too warm face, and she gulped in a deep breath. In spite of the cool night air, she felt sticky beneath her clothes and realized she was perspiring.

  She felt a hand tug on her purse. Turning, she opened her mouth to explain to Grey why she’d left the car.

  To her horror a man in a hooded sweatshirt pushed her against the locked door. He pressed something against her ribs.

  “Don’t scream,” the man hissed. “Just drop your bag.”

  Tess obeyed, unclasping her fist, praying that if she cooperated, the man would leave her unharmed. Then she heard Grey’s voice.

  “Step away from my wife before I kill you.” Grey had his gun drawn and leveled at the man.

  Releasing her, th
e mugger quickly threw his hands in the air. “Hey, man! I didn’t hurt her!”

  Tess stepped away as Grey roughly shoved the man against the wall. He kicked the man’s feet apart in a spread-eagle stance and patted him down, withdrawing a knife from the man’s pocket.

  “I suggest you get as far from here as possible,” Grey said pushing the man away. “The cops are on their way.”

  Moving slowly at first, as if not believing his good fortune at being set free, the man backed up. Then he took off running.

  It infuriated Grey to release the mugger, knowing it would only be a short while before the man picked his next victim. He turned on her, fury flashing in his eyes. “I told you--”

  “I’m sick,” she wailed, waving him back.

  Cursing, Grey forced the lock using the knife he’d taken from her assailant. She was adamant that he remain outside. Once inside, she locked the door and threw up.

  After a few minutes, the queasiness passed, but her head hurt worse than ever.

  No sooner had she turned on water to wash her face than the door opened and Grey stepped in. So much for a locked door when this man was around.

  Grey looked at her closely. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. But he scared me.”

  She was still shaking when Grey drew her into his arms. “You’re freezing.” He started to peel his coat off but remembered his gun. “Come on. Let’s get you back in the car.”

  It took a tremendous amount of self-control not to lecture her while they drove a little farther up the road to a well-lit motel. All he wanted to do was get her inside a room and let her get comfortable.

  Then he’d lay into her. He had nearly died when he returned to the car and found her gone.

  Once they were in a room, though, his resolve fled. He hadn’t counted on her looking so fragile. And even bundled-up in his jacket she still trembled. She sat on the bed, hugging herself while he turned up the room’s thermostat.

  “There’s only one bed,” she pointed out.

  “You can have it. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  Moving past her, he went into the bathroom and started filling the tub. He came back out and knelt in front of her, unfastening her shoes.

  “I’ll have you warm in a minute.” He moved back to the bathroom, turning off the taps. Steam rose from the water but he made sure it wasn’t too hot.

  She still had her arms wrapped around herself when he came back out. She offered no resistance when he tugged off the jacket. Pulling her to her feet, he began unfastening her blouse. That roused her.

  “What are you doing?” She shoved his hands away.

  “Sticking you in a warm tub.” He pushed the edges of her blouse wide, hitching it off her shoulders.

  She crossed her arms over her bra, hiding little. Grey felt himself harden at the sight of her.

  “I can undress myself.” She wasn’t certain she wanted him to see her like this.

  “Fine. I’ll get the stuff from the car.”

  He welcomed the icy blast of air that hit him when he stepped out of their room, but it did little to relieve his suffering.

  Not for the first time he wished things were different between them. What if they were really married and he could simply walk back inside and freely view his wife’s ample charms? Play with them, for God’s sake!

  The feelings he had for her hadn’t diminished over their months apart. If anything, they had grown sharper. But what about Tess’ feelings? Did she care for him on a level beyond personal preservation?

  He carried an armload of packages back to the room and dumped them on the bed. Striding to the bathroom door, he called her name. He heard water splash as if she’d sat up quickly.

  “Yes?” she called through the door.

  “Just checking. I’m going back down to get the rest of the stuff.”

  Tess relaxed, sinking back into the water as she heard his footsteps move away. The water felt heavenly, the warmth gradually seeping in to replace the bone-numbing cold. Thankfully, the nausea had left, and her aches and pains were slowly disappearing.

  She yawned, slipping lower in the tub, submerging her shoulders. She should probably get out and help Grey. Another yawn bubbled up and she shut her eyes, giving in to the steamy warmth. Just a few more minutes, she decided, then she’d climb out.

  After his final trip to the car, Grey turned on the news then began dumping the shopping bags out on the bed, methodically sorting and ripping off tags as he watched television.

  His shirts. Her shirts. His underwear. Hers. And definitely more interesting than his.

  He unwrapped the myriad of cosmetic products, opening the bottles and sniffing. No wonder men fell for women. They smelled so damn good. He twisted the cap off a pink bottle of lotion. The scent of roses filled the air. He felt his groin swell and quickly recapped the bottle. Why torment himself?

  The last bag held a small white box. Their wedding rings. He cupped the rings in his palm. Side by side their differences were huge. Male. Female. His band was thicker and over an inch in diameter. Hers was tiny by comparison. Delicate. And not nearly good enough for her.

  He closed his fist, pressed the metal against his skin, remembering how he’d found himself looking at diamonds in California. He’d found a monster solitaire that he liked. Had wanted something that said she’s taken. A wedding band, though...

  In the end he’d chickened out. “Scared?” the salesman had asked. Damn straight. Now more than ever. He’d told himself that when the time came, he’d go with the ring of his heart. His grandmother’s engagement ring. A marquis-cut diamond surrounded by sapphires the exact deep blue of Tess’ eyes.

  He shook his head. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about. Keeping her safe was all that mattered. There were two lives at stake in that one precious body.

  He looked at the cheap, gold-filled bands, slid his on his left hand. Trying not to think of the significance, he set hers on the dresser.

  The news report of this morning’s bombing came on. Turning up the volume, Grey followed the brief story intently. They gave no new information on the morning’s events, and most of what they recounted was inaccurate. Except the news of Tess’ pregnancy, of course. Though no one would officially confirm it, the reporter quoted sources as saying FBI Special Agent Grey Thomas was the father.

  He frowned, turning the set off. Barry had warned him earlier that this was happening. Barry also told him there was no new information on Snake and Bogen. Reports on sightings were trickling in, but unfortunately none had panned out.

  In minutes Grey had all the clothes stowed in drawers. He gathered up the trash, amazed at the small mountain of boxes and wrapping he’d discarded. Then he slipped from the room one more time to fill the ice bucket and retrieve a few soft drinks from the vending machine.

  When he returned, he locked the door and kicked off his shoes. Padding barefoot to the bathroom door, he listened. No sound came from within. He checked his watch, frowning. She had been in there nearly thirty minutes.

  He called her name softly, not wanting to startle her like he had the last time. When she didn’t respond he cracked the door and peeked in. As he suspected, she was sound asleep.

  He fought with his conscience for all of five seconds. Yeah, he could call her name louder until she woke up. Or he could beat noisily on the door. And probably give her a heart attack in the process.

  Or he could slip in and wake her gently.

  Difficult choice.

  Grabbing two towels, he eased the door open wide and knelt beside the tub. His eyes traveled the length of her, the sight robbing his lungs of oxygen. She was lovelier than he’d remembered.

  And she was pregnant with his child.

  Aside from being larger, her breasts had taken on a dusky hue, her nipples darker, swollen. Tender? he wondered.

  Her waist was as narrow as ever, but the base of her abdomen rose sharply now as she slept, her body relaxed. It was apparent a babe slumbered
there. His.

  A fierce pride rose up in him, mingling with equally fierce possessiveness. He’d been the first man to know intimately this lush body, and if he had anything to do with it, he’d be the last.

  His eyes were drawn once more to the slight mound below her stomach, to the tawny curls nested just below. He ached to touch, caress. Kiss. But he wouldn’t take advantage while she slept.

  Still, he wondered what she’d look like further along, heavy with child. He imagined a dark head, much like his own, suckling lustily upon her breast. He had to convince her to breast-feed.

  Hell, first he had to convince her to let him stay around, be part of her life when there wasn’t a death threat hanging over them.

  Scowling, he trailed a finger in the water. Damn it! The water had lost all warmth. He touched her shoulder.

  “Tess. You’ve got to get out, sweetheart. The water’s too cold.”

  She didn’t budge.

  Leaning forward, he grasped her under the knees and behind the shoulders, lifting her out of the tub.

  Water sluiced down her body, soaking him. She stirred, wriggling in his arms. “Grey, what--”

  “Easy. I’ve got you.” He snatched up a towel, holding her in one arm as he wrapped the towel about her torso. “You fell asleep in the tub.”

  Snagging extra towels, he moved to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he shifted her onto his lap, catching the long strands of wet hair and wrapping them in a towel.

  “Now you’re wet, too.” Tess felt her teeth chatter. Her head pounded, and she felt sore all over.

  Grey looked at her closely, concern darkening his eyes. “You don’t feel well, do you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m so cold.”

  Rubbing her briskly with the towel, Grey quickly dried her. Setting her on the bed, he moved to a drawer and retrieved one of her nightshirts. Ignoring her feeble protests, he stripped away the damp towel and slid the soft cotton over her head. Then he picked her up, pulled back the covers, and tucked her in the bed.

  Grabbing the gauze he’d bought earlier, he rebandaged her hands.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “No.” The sheets felt like ice on her skin. “Can you turn the heat up? Please.”