Texas…Now and Forever

by Merline Lovelace

  Spence, Flynt and Tyler had left some hours earlier. They’d offered to stay, but the bills were marked, the serial numbers scanned, and Luke had been thoroughly checked out on the wristwatch-size phased-array radar that gave him a startlingly accurate return signature.

  He’d also received the promised return call from OP-12. Acoustics had run every analysis in the book, but could provide only limited information. The call was made at a pay phone located within a half mile of a major highway. Semis had roared by in the distance. The acoustics wizards had also detected the sound of a tractor, which narrowed the area some, given that this was primarily range country.

  Luke contacted the FBI and passed the information to Sean Collins, along with a scathing rebuke for not reading him on Daisy Parker’s identity. Doggedly unapologetic, Collins agreed with Luke’s insistence that they share all information from here on out.

  “Sheriff Wainwright’s here with me,” the agent informed Luke. “He’s offered the entire resources of his department to help.”

  “Tell Justin I appreciate the offer,” Luke said sincerely. He hated having to cut out the man who’d risked his life, alongside his wife, in the abortive attempt to rescue Lena. But Del Brio had been adamant. So had Haley. This was their operation now, hers and Luke’s.

  Haley listened to the exchange in silence and resumed the pacing she’d begun earlier this afternoon. Luke finally convinced her to go upstairs and indulge in a long, hot soak.

  Twenty minutes later the computer in his office pinged, announcing the arrival of an e-mail.

  Counting his steps in the way that had become second nature to him now, Luke navigated the short distance to his office. A quick click with the mouse took him to his e-mail program. Another click activated the speech component. An instant later Del Brio’s voice leapt out at him.

  “You wanted proof, Callaghan. Here it is.”

  A series of soft pings indicated that the computer was downloading an image. Eyes narrowed, Luke strained every nerve in his body in an effort to make out the picture on the screen. All he could distinguish was a hazy blur of dark on light.

  Swearing viciously, he sat staring at the screen. He’d never regretted the loss of his vision more than he did at this moment. He couldn’t see his own child. Didn’t know whether she was laughing or crying or lying in a pool of blood.

  His spine locked, shoulders roped with tension, he waited for Haley to come downstairs. He heard her flip-flopping down the hall some fifteen minutes later.

  “I raided your closet for some slippers and one of your shirts. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Consumed with the need to know what was on the screen, Luke barely registered the faint combination of starched cotton and lemony shampoo that came into the office with her.

  “I didn’t hear the phone ring.”

  “Del Brio chose another communication medium this time. I’ve been waiting for you to look at this.”

  Slippers flopping, she rushed forward and bent over his shoulder. Luke could feel her body tremble where it contacted his, and the kink in his gut took another vicious twist. He hated not being able to prepare Haley for what she might see on the screen.

  “Dear God, that’s Lena!”

  She’d never know how much it took to keep his voice level and calm. “How does she look?”

  “Happy. Oh, Luke, she looks happy.” Giddy with relief, she drummed a fist on his shoulder. “She’s clutching a fluffy stuffed rabbit and she’s laughing at the camera.”

  Some of the tension holding Luke in a rigid brace seeped out of his spine. He relaxed, leaning back in his chair. The slight movement brought the back of his head in direct contact with the warm, soft swell of Haley’s breasts. With a vicious effort, he blanked his mind to the sensations that raced through him.

  “Describe the background details. What do you see in the image besides Lena?”

  “She’s sitting on the floor in front of a TV. It looks like there’s some kind of a news show on. CNN’s ‘Headline News,’ I think. Yes, it’s ‘Headline News.’ I can see the banner at the bottom of the screen.”

  “Does it show a time and date?”

  “Yes. Today’s date. The time is…”

  She leaned closer to the screen. Luke felt himself begin to sweat.

  “The time is seven thirty-six. Only a little over three hours ago!”

  “Computer images are easy to doctor,” he cautioned, hating to douse the joy and relief in her voice. “I doubt if this one was, since Frank knows we’ll check it out. Still, it won’t hurt to have a few experts take a look at it.”

  “No, it won’t. Just print me a copy, will you?”

  While his high-tech laser color printer whirred, Luke composed a brief message to a nameless, faceless entity in a building outside McLean, Virginia, and hit the send key. Next, he tapped out a quick e-mail to Special Agent Sean Collins at the FBI command center. Extracting the printed copy of the photo, he swung his chair around. She chose the same moment to lean across him and reach for the photo herself.

  Luke’s shoulder caught her square in her ribs. Off balance, she stumbled sideways and would have fallen if Luke hadn’t grabbed for her. One hand contacted starched cotton. The other, bare skin. With an adroit maneuver he managed to convert her fall into an awkward tumble that brought her into his lap. She landed with a little plop and a shaky laugh.

  “Good catch, Callaghan. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He fully intended to remove his hand from her bare thigh. In a minute. Curling his palm around the smooth flesh, he held her balanced on his knees.

  “Sorry about the body block. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Luke half expected her to wiggle off his lap. She had to feel the heat she was raising in him. Hell, his hand burned like a brand where it wrapped around the silk of her inner thigh. Drawn by the fire, he slid his palm up another inch or so.

  She made a queer little breathy sound, louder than a sigh, softer than a gasp. “Luke?”

  His hand stilled. “Yes?”

  “About that kiss in the living room this afternoon…”

  “What about it?”

  “I didn’t plan it.”

  “I know. I wasn’t planning on this one, either.”

  He managed to find her lips with only minimal bumping of chins and noses. Her head tipped back to improve the contact, bunching her still-wet hair against his shoulder. Luke registered the dampness through his shirt for a moment or two before her mouth opened under his. With a grunt of sheer male satisfaction, he shifted her higher on his lap.

  The small movement tipped Haley’s soaring emotions over the edge. She was ecstatic at seeing evidence her baby was happy. Overwhelmed by all Luke was doing to help rescue Lena. If she hadn’t ached for him before, the feelings he roused in her now would have done the trick.

  Joy swiftly became hunger. Relief crashed into need. Want left her mindless of the oversize shirt falling off her shoulders. Her mouth turned greedy, her hands even more so as she slid her palms over his chest and shoulders.

  Luke’s greed matched hers. She could feel him straining against her, under her. Taking full advantage of the now widely gaping shirt, he found her breast. The calloused pads of his palm raised shivery sensations against her skin. Within moments his busy fingers had brought her nipple to an aching peak.

  “I’ve carried a picture of you in my head since that night at the Saddlebag,” he muttered, hitching her up another few inches. “I remember your mouth soft and swollen from my kisses. Your nipples dusky red and stiff.”

  “You’d better hang on to that mental image,” she said on a shaky laugh. “I’ve aged a bit since then. I’ve also had a baby. I have the stretch marks to prove it.”

  “Do you? Where? Here?”

  His hand slid down, charting a path past the starched folds of the shirt. Haley’s stomach quivered at the exploratory touch. She wasn’t wearing panties. She’d wa
shed out the pair she’d had on when she’d rushed out to find Luke. They were upstairs, draped over the shower rod in the guest bathroom alongside her bra.

  Luke obviously approved of the omission. After only a stroke or two, he abandoned his search for stretch marks and found the heat between her legs. The heel of his hand exerted an exquisite pressure on her mound, while his thrusting fingers nearly carried her to climax. Embarrassed, Haley clenched her legs and tried frantically to stem the tidal wave of sensations.

  “Luke, wait! It’s been two years!”

  She hadn’t intended to provide that particular item of information. It just slipped out, along with every bit of breath in her lungs as he deliberately, wickedly increased the pressure.

  “Are you saying you’re too out of practice?” he asked, nipping at her neck.

  “No. I’m saying I’m too ready.”

  Laughter puffed against her throat. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s the last thing you should tell a man when you want him to stop.”

  “Who said I want you to stop?”

  Wriggling like a stranded fish, Haley twisted around and straddled his thighs. They were face-to-face now. Breath-to-breath.

  “What I want,” she informed him, yanking at his belt buckle, “is to feel you inside me.”

  His breath snagged. His belly hollowed. With a growl he shoved aside her fumbling hands and freed himself from his jeans. She was wet when he lifted her hips, and ready, so ready, when he entered her in a smooth, sure thrust.

  They made wild, greedy love in his office before moving to Luke’s king-size bed for a slower, more deliberate joining. He positioned the phone on the nightstand within easy reach in case Frank called, then took Haley to magical places, where she almost—almost—forgot Del Brio altogether.

  Limp and totally sated, she nestled her head on Luke’s shoulder and let her sleepy gaze roam his bedroom. As the rest of the house, it was furnished with an eye to masculine comfort blended with family antiques and Texas treasures. Stressed leather covered three walls above the waist-high paneling. Bookshelves took up the fourth, with a Remington bronze occupying the place of honor in a specially lighted central niche. An iron bootjack sat beside an oversize arm chair and served a necessary purpose.

  It was a man’s room, she thought, yet one a woman could feel cherished in. All it needed was a few feminine touches. Sweet-scented potpourri instead of cigars in the humidor on the bedside table, maybe. Her clothes hanging opposite Luke’s in that cavernous walk-in closet.

  With a frown she brought her thoughts to a jerky halt. She was getting ahead of herself here. Way ahead of herself. She shut down that treacherous line of thought, only to discover Luke was doing some thinking of his own.

  “Haley?”

  “Mmm?”

  “All those years in London you never found anyone to hold you and keep you safe?”

  “I wasn’t looking.”

  “Why not?”

  “At first I was too nervous. I kept pretty much to myself until I got comfortable in my new identity. Even then I allowed myself only a small circle of friends.”

  “There wasn’t anyone special?”

  Only you.

  Not ready to admit how often Luke Callaghan had figured in her private dreams all those years, Haley merely shrugged. He wasn’t ready to let the matter drop, though. Stroking her hair, he continued his probe.

  “Why did you go with me that night at the Saddlebag?”

  “Seeing my mother so bruised and battered shook me, Luke. Badly. I’d never felt more alone than I did that night. Or more lonely.”

  “So you went with me out of loneliness?”

  “Yes. Partly.”

  “Only partly?”

  Slipping out from under his hand, she raised up on one elbow. “What do you want me to say? That I needed a man?”

  “Well, I was hoping for something more specific. Like maybe you needed me.”

  “Okay, maybe I did. Does that make a difference?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m beginning to think the feeling was mutual. It’s hard to put into words, but after you drowned— After you left,” he amended hastily, “I kept a part of myself hidden, too.”

  “From what I read in the tabloids,” Haley said dryly, “you didn’t exactly lack for companionship.”

  “I didn’t. But I never felt the need I felt that night at the Saddlebag.”

  “Are you saying you were lonely, too? That’s what brought you over to my table that night?”

  “Partly,” he said, echoing her earlier reply.

  She struggled to adjust her mental image of the man Luke Callaghan had been with one who’d lived with as many secrets as Haley had herself. She wasn’t quite there when his mouth curved in a wicked grin.

  “The other part,” he confessed, dragging her down for a kiss, “was pure lust.”

  Fourteen

  The next morning Haley lingered in the guest bathroom long after she’d showered and blow-dried her hair. Luke had given her first crack at the master bath, but she’d opted for the one down the hall she’d already more or less claimed as her own. She needed some space—and some privacy—to sort through her confusion.

  Funny what a difference a few hours could make.

  Last night she’d tumbled into Luke’s arms without a thought for the complications or the consequences that might follow. Just as she’d done two years ago. This morning she was having second, third, and fourth doubts. Just as she’d done two years ago.

  “Talk about your slow learners,” she muttered, plucking a few blond strands from her comb and tossing them in the wicker wastebasket.

  How could she make such a fool of herself twice with the same man? Thank goodness she’d stopped short of telling him the real reason she’d gone with him that night at the Saddlebag. She could just imagine his reaction if she’d admitted that she’d loved him for as long as she could remember.

  He, on the other hand, had been right up front with her. He’d been feeling a touch of loneliness two years ago. And a whole lot of lust. Love hadn’t figured into things that night. Nor did it come into play now.

  On his side of the equation, anyway.

  Time Haley accepted that basic fact and hauled her butt downstairs. She had more pressing concerns to worry about, chief among them her daughter. Plunking the comb down on the marble vanity, she followed the scent of fresh-brewed coffee to the kitchen.

  Luke stood at the center island, a coffee mug in hand. Glancing up, he zeroed in on her with such pinpoint accuracy that Haley forgot he couldn’t actually see her. Self-consciously, she tugged at the hem of the pale blue shirt she’d borrowed from him. Even with the sleeves rolled up, she swam in the cloud-soft cotton.

  “I should make a run to my apartment,” she said by way of greeting. “If Frank doesn’t call soon with instructions on when and where to deliver the ransom, I’ll deplete your entire wardrobe.”

  “It’s safer for you here. Make a list of the items you need and I’ll have someone pick them up for you.”

  The clipped response lifted Haley’s brows. From the sound of it, she wasn’t the only one experiencing a few morning-after doubts.

  “All right. Have you had breakfast?”

  “Just coffee. I’m not hungry. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

  “Just coffee will do for me, too.”

  She joined him at the island, filled another mug and took a cautious sip.

  “We need to talk about last night, Haley.”

  The sip turned into a gulp. Hastily she downed the too hot brew. “Yes, I guess we do.”

  “I don’t usually make that kind of mistake.”

  His words burned worse than the scalding coffee. Carefully she placed her mug on the granite counter. “You consider last night a mistake?”

  “Hell, yes. Don’t you?”

  “I’m beginning to.”

  Grimacing at her strained reply, he shook his head. �
��You can’t blame me any more than I blame myself. If I’d acted as irresponsibly in the field as I did last night, I would have come home in a box.”

  He slid his hand along the counter and found hers. His grip was warm and, she supposed, intended to be reassuring.

  “I’m sorry, Haley. I know worry over Lena has kept you on a constant roller coaster ride. I felt your burst of relief after seeing her picture last night and knowing she was happy and well cared for.” The disgust came back into his face. “I can’t believe I took advantage of your emotional vulnerability that way.”

  “You think that’s why I fell all over you? Out of relief?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Okay, maybe some. But there were other emotions involved. Like that lust we talked about. I wanted you, Luke.”

  “I wanted you, too. So bad, I hurt with it.” He squeezed her hand. “But this is one of those intense situations where things get distorted easily.”

  “I seem to be a little slow this morning. What exactly have we distorted?”

  “Nothing, yet. I’m just saying the potential is there. Look, Haley, you know I’ll do whatever it takes to get Lena back safely. Once that’s accomplished, I don’t want you to feel obligated in any way or think you’re tied to a…” His mouth twisted down at one side. “How did Del Brio put it? To a blind, useless cripple.”

  The irony took Haley’s breath away. Here she’d been writhing inside, worrying Luke had sensed that her feelings for him went far deeper than want, thinking he was warning her off.

  Evidently he was, but for an entirely different reason than the one she’d postulated. She hadn’t considered, hadn’t remotely imagined, that his impaired vision might be a factor.

  “Is that what this is all about?” she asked incredulously. “Your sight, or lack of it?”

  “It has to be considered.”

  “You idiot! Of course it does. But not in any discussion about last night or how we might or might not feel after we get our baby back.”

  His black brows slashed down. The look on his face wavered between surprise and a scowl. Obviously, Luke Callaghan wasn’t used to being contradicted. Too wound up to soothe his ruffled feelings, Haley tugged her hand free of his.