My Baby, My Love

by Dani Sinclair

  Sydney leaned on the nurse, but she straightened the moment she saw him. In that unguarded moment, he glimpsed a vulnerability that arced straight for his gut. She was shaken to the core and doing everything she knew to keep it from showing.

  “Sydney, Agent Wickowski is offering you police protection.”

  “No!”

  “Mrs. Inglewood, this time we’ll use our own people. I promise you we’ll see that you’re protected.”

  “Am I under arrest?”

  Her voice was stronger, though it still had a hoarse, raspy edge.

  Wickowski shook his head. “Of course not.”

  “Then I’d like to leave.”

  “That’s it, Wickowski. We’re out of here.” Noah’s own instincts clamored for him to get her away as quickly as possible.

  “Mrs. Inglewood,” the doctor interjected, “this isn’t a good idea. You’ve suffered a severe trauma to your head and you’ve just had surgery on your hand. You’re taking a big risk leaving here.”

  “Bigger risk…staying,” she croaked out as her voice broke down in a hoarse whisper.

  “Don’t strain your vocal cords,” Noah chastised, reaching inside her closet for the bag of torn, stained clothing. “We’re leaving.”

  He liked the way she stood up to the doctor. She was no cringing wimp, that was for sure. He went back to her drawer and collected the contents of her purse.

  Sydney got discharge papers and lectures, but Noah had her in a wheelchair and out front before her breakfast tray arrived.

  “Impressive,” Sydney whispered. “I can see why you’re a major.”

  In one hand, she clutched the African violet. He felt ridiculously pleased. She’d left behind the large sprays of flowers from her friends and coworkers.

  Long sooty lashes fluttered closed when she leaned back against the cab’s upholstery. Noah resisted an urge to smooth away the dark smudges of fatigue beneath the fall of lashes. He had to keep reminding himself that this was his brother’s wife.

  Staring at her profile, he decided Jerome’s photographs hadn’t done her justice. Sydney Edwards Inglewood had flawless skin over the sort of bone structure that gave her a clean, natural beauty.

  “Thank you for getting me out of there.”

  “I should have listened to you last night. I didn’t know they were going to pull the guard at your door.”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell in a small shrug. “They didn’t know I was in danger.”

  “You’d think they’d protect a material witness better than that. Can you tell me what happened without straining your voice?”

  In a husky whisper, Sydney told him what little she’d seen. “He wanted something, but he was so afraid I’d scream again he kept holding on to my throat so I couldn’t answer even if I’d wanted to. I wonder if it could have been that orderly who scared me earlier.”

  “What orderly?”

  Sydney’s explanation fed his anger.

  “You mean to tell me that no one checked this out?”

  Sydney shrugged. “The nurse never came back. Or if she did, I was already asleep. Maybe the orderly was just weird, but in retrospect, I think he was going through the drawer on the nightstand.”

  Noah was coldly furious. “Is anything missing?”

  “I never looked.”

  “We’ll do that when we get to the hotel.”

  “I didn’t have anything worth taking, Noah. Maybe ten dollars and some change. And I could be wrong about what he was doing.”

  “Did you tell Wickowski about this?”

  She shook her head.

  “We’ll call him later.”

  He helped her from the cab in front of his hotel and she stumbled over the curb, forcing him to reach for her.

  “Lean on me,” he told her quietly. “We don’t need you falling down in front of half the visiting businessmen in the city.”

  Men and women in power suits, sporting briefcases and newspapers, moved busily about the lobby. There were even a few early-morning tourists scurrying about.

  Sydney stiffened. “I won’t fall.”

  “Good. I hate scenes first thing in the morning.”

  “Then move your hand or you’re going to get a doozy.”

  He realized that in avoiding her bad arm, his hand had pressed against the soft round curve of her breast. Instantly, he released her. Sydney moved forward with quiet dignity.

  “Why are we here?”

  “This is where I’m staying.” He reached for the elevator button.

  She raised her eyebrows expressively.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to answer any more questions for a while.”

  After a second she gave a delicate shudder and looked away. “I don’t.”

  As a crush of people jostled their way out of the elevator, Sydney was pressed up against him. He steadied her lightly, careful of his hands this time. But that only reinforced his awareness of her body. A very nice body. She was a good height for a woman, almost at eye level with him.

  The sudden flare of awareness in her eyes caught him off guard. Her lips parted. A lacy sweep of pink brightened her cheeks. His answering response came as another surprise. As soon as they entered the elevator away from prying eyes, he stepped away from her.

  “My room has two double beds, Sydney,” he said to reassure her as well as himself. “You can use the second one to try for a little sleep while I make other arrangements.”

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Who put you—?”

  “In charge? I did.” Her whispery voice only added fuel to the unwanted kindling of awareness. “You’d better stop trying to talk. You’re losing what little voice you have left.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her head. “I realize you haven’t seen any proof of this so far, but I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Major.” Her voice dropped even lower as it cracked and broke. “I’ve been doing so for a number of years.”

  “I know. Jerome told me you were an orphan.”

  It had only confirmed his conviction that Jerome was a fool who’d let himself be trapped by a needy older woman with a biological clock ticking away.

  On the other hand, Jerome had always liked to get his own way, so Noah figured it was the woman who would come to regret the decision. Jerome was a handsome charmer. He was also totally self-centered and used to being catered to.

  Still, Noah had found himself studying Sydney’s photograph at odd moments, baffled by the woman Jerome had selected for his wife. While pretty, she wasn’t the flashy adornment Noah had expected Jerome to pick.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t make your wedding,” Noah told her. “I was out of the country at the time.”

  “He would have liked you to be there,” she said without looking at him.

  Privately, Noah doubted that.

  “It was a simple service. We didn’t even use a church.”

  Was that a trace of regret? Noah couldn’t tell. The last assignment had left Noah taking a hard look at the choices he’d made in his own life. He’d experienced a tug of envy over the life his brother had planned. Talk about irony. Noah risked his life every time he went on a mission, yet it was Jerome who’d died protecting someone else, leaving Noah the living hostages to fortune.

  Noah was relieved when the elevator doors opened and he could abandon that train of thought. He led Sydney down the hall.

  “How did you come to be an orphan?” he asked abruptly, curious about the woman his brother had married.

  “My parents and older brothers were killed in an avalanche on a skiing vacation in Austria when I was seven.”

  “That’s rough.”

  Remembered grief reflected in her eyes. “I was supposed to go with them, but I came down with chicken pox the day before the trip so I stayed with my grandmother.”

  “So you weren’t a total orphan?”

  With an impatient toss of her hair she shook her head. “She died of a massive heart attack when I was sixteen. Do you reall
y want my life history?”

  He unlocked the door to his room. “Maybe later. Does it bother you to talk about the past?”

  “No.”

  He gestured her inside the room and she entered cautiously, almost as if she expected someone to jump out at her.

  “Have a seat,” he said brusquely.

  “You must scare the heck out of young recruits.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re good at giving orders and intimidating people.”

  He found himself wanting to smile again. “I don’t scare you.”

  She arched her eyebrows again. “Remember that.”

  He suppressed an urge to chuckle. He hadn’t expected to like Sydney so much. He laid a finger over her cracked lips. “Save your voice. You can yell at me later. Right now you look done in.”

  She studied him through eyes semiglazed by pain and fatigue. He sensed both grief and fear hiding beneath the surface and held up a hand to stave off any further protests. “I’ll try to stop giving orders. In the meantime, let’s not argue until you’re back to fighting form. Do you want to eat or sleep first? You’ll be safe here, Sydney.”

  Her eyes spoke volumes, but she turned without a word and set the plant on the nightstand. She moved stiffly to the far bed with its undisturbed cover.

  “It’s silly, but I’m so tired I can’t even think straight anymore,” she murmured.

  “It’s not silly at all.” He stripped down the covers and let her climb into bed, still clothed in his running outfit. Sydney wasn’t the sort to lean on anyone if she could help it. That she let him help her and didn’t even protest when he smoothed the blanket over her told him a great deal about how bad she was feeling. He’d been right not to initiate a serious discussion right away. There’d be time later.

  He’d meant to keep his actions strictly impersonal, but as her eyes fluttered closed, his hand reached out and gently stroked the hair back from her face. She twitched, but that was all. He would have sworn she was asleep in seconds.

  Noah sat at the table and watched the steady rise and fall of her breathing and tried to control the unexpected spike from his libido. Sydney would be shocked if she knew the sort of urges she was stirring in him. He was feeling a little shocked himself.

  No other woman had provoked this raw need to protect and cherish. Why Sydney of all people? Unless it had something to do with the baby she carried. He’d shied away from thoughts of the child ever since she’d uttered those damning words. Jerome’s baby.

  He ran unsteady fingers through his hair. What a mess. His brain knew she was his brother’s wife, but his body didn’t seem to care.

  He stared at her hand, lying protectively curled across her chin. She had long, graceful fingers and short, unpolished nails, but it was her ring finger that captured his attention. She wore a simple, wide gold wedding band and an ordinary diamond solitaire on her left hand.

  Glad to have a focus—any focus that would keep him from looking at her—he studied her ring. She designed jewelry for a living. He would have expected something different on her finger—something unique. Obviously, he would have been wrong. Still, that jarring note was one more in a growing list of inconsistencies he’d noticed since he arrived.

  Finally convinced that it would take the entire Army marching band to wake her, Noah made a couple of phone calls to get his mind off the bewitching woman. The last one was to Agent Wickowski, who expressed anger at not being told about the orderly. He wanted to come over and talk with Sydney right away. Noah convinced him to wait and suggested Wickowski talk with the nurse and the police officer first.

  For a long time after that, Noah watched Sydney sleep, sorting through his options. He didn’t have many, he acknowledged glumly. He couldn’t simply walk away from her or the situation. He and Jerome had a blood tie he couldn’t deny. And now Noah was irrevocably bound to Sydney. The thought was nearly as disturbing as the woman herself.

  She looked almost ethereal in sleep. How would she look when she grew round with the baby she carried?

  Following that line of thought would lead to disaster, Noah told himself. Impatiently, he stood and put out the Do Not Disturb sign. Then he called the desk to ask them to hold all calls. Disgruntled, he lay down on the other bed and willed himself back to sleep. Questions loomed in his mind. He tried to picture Sydney and Jerome together and the image made him angry and restless.

  When she sat up hours later, he was still awake, still trying to figure out how to initiate the discussion they needed to have.

  She rolled over and looked at him, her eyes misty with sleep. “Hi.”

  “Feel better?”

  “I think so. Why are we whispering?”

  “So we don’t strain your voice?”

  “Oh.” She moistened her dry lips. “What have you been doing?”

  “Watching you sleep.”

  She blinked in surprise. “You do lead an eventful life, don’t you?” and she yawned, stretching away the kinks.

  Noah’s attention riveted on the material of the T-shirt where it tightened over the gentle swell of her breasts. She caught him looking and color suffused her face.

  Heat stole up his neck as well. When was the last time he’d been caught staring at a woman like some randy schoolboy?

  Sydney rolled off the other side of the bed before he could apologize. “Bathroom,” she whispered without looking at him.

  Well, at least she was steadier on her feet now. Noah sat up, frowning when the shower started.

  She was too weak and dizzy. She could fall, hit her head. Anything might happen. Bathrooms were dangerous places. There was also the cast on her hand to consider. He didn’t know if she was supposed to get it wet or not but it would definitely hamper her in the bathtub.

  Noah suspected it wouldn’t do him much good to point out either of those facts to her. Sydney Edwards—Inglewood, he tacked on sternly—definitely had a mind of her own.

  Running a hand through his hair, he decided it would be much better for both of them if he didn’t dwell on the image of her standing on the other side of that flimsy door taking a shower.

  “I needed a nap more than she did,” he muttered to himself as he reached for the telephone to call room service.

  Sydney stepped from the steamy bathroom a few minutes later, a towel wrapped loosely around her head. She’d donned his T-shirt again, but the shorts had obviously proved too much for her. She gripped the drooping shorts firmly around her waist. He wished she looked ridiculous—instead of sexy as hell.

  “Quite a fashion statement,” he told her with what he hoped was an easy smile.

  She looked down at the shirt where it clung a bit damply to the tops of her breasts and made a face. “I couldn’t retie the drawstring with only one hand.” Her embarrassment was tempered by annoyance.

  Noah forced his eyes up and away, disturbed by his instant reaction. “I should have thought of that. I’ll help you.”

  He could be detached. Of course he could.

  “Come here.”

  Sydney hesitated.

  Remembering her earlier comment about the way he gave orders he added, “Please.”

  Her expression lightened in a sudden burst of humor. “I’ll bet that didn’t hurt a bit.”

  “What didn’t?”

  “Saying please.”

  “Anybody ever tell you that you have a sassy mouth?”

  She grinned. “No one dares. Have you been in the military a long time?”

  She was stalling. He didn’t mind the delaying tactics a bit. Touching her so intimately was going to be uncomfortable for both of them, especially since he knew she wasn’t wearing a thing under those bits of cloth.

  “I got a military scholarship in high school.”

  “ROTC?”

  He nodded and perched on the edge of the bed so he could reach for the string.

  “You know, we could call the front desk,” she said suddenly, backing up. “They might have a gif
t shop. Maybe I could have them send up a dress or something.”

  He could just envision trying to help her into a dress. “I don’t think so, but picking up your clothing will be our first priority.” His sanity might depend on it. “Come here.”

  With an air of resignation, she approached. “I feel like a little kid,” she said with endearing nervousness.

  “Trust me, you don’t look anything at all like a kid.” And that was a pity. He wouldn’t have thought twice about helping a kid.

  He’d never felt such intense physical awareness of a woman before. He had to keep telling himself she was his brother’s wife. Surely he could do this without embarrassing both of them.

  But sitting on the bed had been a mistake. It put him just above eye level of the rounded curves his T-shirt strove to conceal. Her nipples contracted into tiny hard points. Noah tried not to stare and reminded himself once more that this was his sister-in-law, not some woman he was trying to take to bed.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I feel foolish.”

  He knew the feeling.

  “Is this the spot where I’m supposed to close my eyes and think of God and country?”

  She surprised a chuckle out of him. He liked the way she turned to humor in difficult situations. “I thought it was queen and country.”

  “Only if you’re British.”

  “Ah. Well, c’mere darlin’,” he said with a drawl.

  Her expression flashed with mild alarm that immediately turned to an answering grin. “Go for it, Tex.”

  She released her one-hand death grip on the scrunched-up shirt and lost her hold on the jogging shorts underneath. They slid dangerously down her slim hips.

  “Oops!”

  Noah stopped their descent at her hips, which placed his face only inches from her navel beneath the thin bit of cotton. He inhaled the pleasant scent of the soap she’d used all over her body.

  This had been a very bad idea.

  “Here,” he said a bit gruffly. “You hold the shorts. I’ll get the drawstring.”

  Their hands connected. Noah drew in a sharp breath and reminded himself once more that this was his sister-in-law. Calling on every bit of discipline he’d ever known, he tugged up the hem of the T-shirt and reached for her waistband.