IN BED WITH BOONE

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Hi, Daddy. Guess what? I met this man and you're going to love him as much as I do. No. Not good enough.

  Daddy! Guess what happened to me! No. He might take that the wrong way.

  Daddy, I'm in love. He loves me, I know he does, even though right now I have no idea where he is or he's coming back…

  Jayne opened the door. "Daddy…"

  "Sweetheart." Gus Barrington swept into the room, gave Jayne a big hug and then set her away from him to look her up and down with the calculating eyes of a protective father. His number-one assistant, Chad, was one step behind him as usual. "You look wonderful, not a bit the worse for wear." His grin was stellar.

  "Thanks."

  Chad, who was thirty-five, thin and ambitious, and would never go far because he apparently could not smile at all, took over. "The press conference starts in twenty minutes."

  "Press conference?" Jayne asked.

  "The lobby is swarming with media, sweetheart," her father explained. "They have a hundred questions and I can't answer even one. It seemed best to just let Chad set something up and be done with it. I knew you wouldn't mind."

  It was also free airtime, Jayne realized with a sigh.

  Chad studied her. "The dress is lovely, Jayne, but a little casual for a press conference. Don't you have a suit handy? The muted red or the teal, I think."

  Pamela always teased Jayne about traveling with so many clothes, but Jayne knew she had to be prepared for anything on the road. Even the unexpected press conference.

  "Sure," she said, feeling more than a little disappointed. This wasn't exactly the warm reunion she had imagined.

  Her father waved Chad off, and the assistant obediently stepped back. Unable to waste a single moment of his busy life, Chad opened his leather portfolio and began to leaf through the papers there. Surely something important needed to be done immediately.

  Jayne stood very still while her father placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed down at her. "Are you really all right?" he asked. "You look fine, you really do, but from what little I've heard, I know you've been through a harrowing experience."

  Jayne nodded. He had no idea. "Corbin Marsh was a drug dealer and a murderer. He planned to support you publicly and financially, and then … blackmail you into helping him." She shook her head. "If things had happened differently, if we hadn't found out who and what Marsh was, he could have dragged you into something very ugly."

  She got a Gus Barrington grin for her concern. "Don't worry about what might have happened. Truth be told, I would turn on a snake like that one in a heartbeat, even if it meant an end to my political career."

  "I know that," she said softly. She occasionally got annoyed with the public aspect of her father's life, but he was a decent man who really did want to do good.

  "Daddy, so much has happened. I don't know where to start." She shook her head softly. "And I don't know what to tell the press. In truth, I'd rather not talk to them at all. I will, if you need me there, but can we just tell them I'm fine and that we'll discuss what happened at a later date?"

  She saw the concern in her father's eyes. "If that's what you want."

  "Senator," Chad interjected, "the story will be cold in a few days, and this is such positive press…"

  "If Jayne doesn't want to talk about what happened today, she doesn't have to." Her father smiled. "I'll tell them she's unhurt and safe and I'm taking her home. That will be good enough."

  Jayne smiled. "Thank you," she said softly.

  Another knock on the door. Boone! Oh, this was not the time to introduce the two most important men in her life.

  "I ordered coffee," Chad said, heading for the door.

  "Wait…"

  Her weak protest came too late. Chad opened the door, and the man who burst inside was not Boone and he was not delivering coffee. The intruder knocked Chad aside. Papers went flying, the leather portfolio fell to the floor and was kicked away by the man who stormed into the room, and Chad let out a weak squeal as he hit the floor.

  Jayne didn't recognize him at first, this man with black hair and swarthy skin. All she saw was the gun in his hand. When he looked directly at her, though, she knew. Apparently he'd left his brown contact lenses behind. The pale blue eyes looked eerie against the makeup-darkened skin.

  "Marsh," she said.

  "What a lovely picture the two of you make," he snarled. Marsh tried to slam the door behind him, but Chad's foot blocked it. A stunned Chad grunted as the door glanced off his ankle. Marsh seemed not to notice. "Father and child, reunited at last. How very moving." He glared at Jayne and cocked his head to one side. "Where is he?"

  "I don't know what you're—"

  Marsh raised the weapon and pointed it at her. "Sinclair, Becker, whatever you call him. Where is he?"

  "Jayne?" Her father tried to place himself protectively in front of her. "Who is this man looking for?"

  Marsh grinned and circled around, maintaining his distance and keeping the gun trained on her at all times. "Ah, he doesn't know yet, does he? The fireworks have not yet begun. I always thought it would be fun to watch the senator meet the lowlife his little girl has been screwing silly."

  Gus Barrington tensed and took a step forward. "How dare you—"

  "Daddy," Jayne said, stilling her father's progress with a steady hand. She gave Marsh her full attention. "I don't know where Boone is. He left."

  Marsh/Gurza shook his head. "He was after the kid all along," he said. "I never saw it, not until it was too late. I cared about that child, you know. I truly did. His mother was a crackhead and a whore, but Drew was innocent. He was the only good thing in my life."

  "How long would he have remained good?" Jayne snapped. "You would have poisoned him sooner or later. You would have turned him into another Darryl or another Harvey. He didn't have a chance at a decent life as long as he stayed with you."

  Marsh shook the gun at her. "You helped him. You helped that no-good liar take Drew from me. You're going to pay for that." His hand steadied.

  "If you fire that weapon, you'll never get out of this hotel alive," the senator said calmly.

  Marsh swung his gaze to the senator. "My life is over. My home, Drew, my career—careers, I should say—my fortune … all gone. But I'm not going alone." He took aim at Jayne.

  The door burst open. A blur of leather and denim, Boone jumped over Chad and threw himself in front of Jayne and her father as the gun went off. A surprised Marsh twitched at the last minute, and his aim was bad. The window behind Jayne and her father shattered.

  Marsh didn't get off another shot before Boone knocked the gun aside, delivering an uppercut that spun Marsh around. The gun went flying, then skittered across the floor. Both men were now unarmed, and any sane person would know that Boone had the advantage, fighting hand to hand. He was younger and bigger. Still, an enraged Marsh rushed at Boone.

  Boone spun once and kicked out, his booted foot catching Marsh in the chest and sending him reeling backward to fall on Chad. The senator's aide let out a breathy squeal before he came to his senses and gave the stunned Marsh a shove that sent him rolling back into the room.

  Once more Marsh tried to stand, but he didn't have anything left. Boone wrestled the desperate man down, face pressed into the carpet. When he had Marsh pinned to the floor, Boone looked up at Jayne. He took a long deep breath.

  "Call room 819, sugar, and tell Shock if he hurries, I'll let him put handcuffs on the bogeyman."

  * * *

  All he really wanted was to touch Jayne and make sure she was okay. She looked fine, if a little pale, but he wanted to hold her close and judge for himself.

  That wasn't going to happen anytime soon. She'd been hustled off by her father to prepare for the press conference that had been unavoidably delayed. The gunshot had brought everyone running. There was no canceling the press conference now, according to Jayne's father.

  Once Boone had handed Corbin Marsh over to Del and Shock, he'd been left momentarily alone
with the senator and the pipsqueak he'd had to leap over to get into Jayne's room. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife, and if he could've run without looking like a complete coward, he most definitely would have.

  He'd returned to Jayne's room to say goodbye, never expecting that he'd hear Marsh's angry voice drifting through the partially open door. He didn't want to think about what might have happened if he hadn't come back to say goodbye.

  The pipsqueak kept insisting that they include Boone in the press conference. Some nonsense about the common man risking his life, blah, blah, blah. The senator, on the other hand, stared at Boone as if he wanted to take him apart, one piece at a time. What had Jayne told him?

  What difference did it make? Even a little bit of the truth would cause the senator to look at him this way.

  Jayne emerged from the bedroom looking beautiful as always, if a little formal in her pearls and pale-blue-green suit. He tried to talk to her, but the pipsqueak hurried her along and out of Boone's reach. He followed, not because he had anything to say to the damned press, but because he still hadn't spoken with Jayne.

  And like it or not, he did have to tell her goodbye. After he'd dropped the Pattersons and Lacey off at the airport, he'd considered just heading home, too. Back to Alabama. On to the next case. But Jayne wasn't a woman you walked away from without a word.

  A part of him wanted to keep her a while longer. Another part knew this would never last.

  In the elevator she scooted close to him. "Where were you?" she whispered.

  He leaned down slightly. "I took Drew and his grandparents to the airport." Since her father was present, he didn't tell her that he hadn't wanted to wake her, she'd looked so peaceful.

  "The Pattersons seem very nice." She reached out and laid her hand on his arm, a move the senator followed with great interest. "Drew will be happy there."

  He couldn't believe he had told Jayne about Patrick and the nightmares. She must think him such a fool, to feel guilty even now, to be too stubborn to let an old mistake go. He had never told anyone before, had never even been tempted. Patrick was his dark secret to keep, his nightmare to bear. You didn't share your nightmares with just anyone. You didn't tell all just because for a little while, having someone to share your burden with made it lighter.

  Jayne didn't need his burdens. No one did.

  The lobby came too soon, and they were rushed through a small crowd to a meeting room where cameras, reporters and microphones awaited the senator's arrival.

  Boone stopped by the door. The senator took Jayne's arm and they moved up the aisle, smiling. Very much in control. Jayne looked back once and urged Boone forward with a nod of her head. He shook his head and stayed put.

  The pipsqueak informed the reporters about Marsh's assassination attempt, and how a man—he indicated Boone with a wave of his hand—had bravely thrown himself between the senator and a bullet.

  Heads turned. Lights hit Boone in the face. Curious eyes turned to him for answers. Hell, he didn't belong here. What was he thinking? Goodbyes were for sweethearts. He and Jayne had never been anything but lovers. Lovers could walk away.

  The reporters bombarded him with questions he ignored. They held out microphones and aimed cameras in his direction. Jayne watched from the small raised dais at the far front of the room, where she stood beside her father. If ever he needed a reminder that they came from different worlds…

  Finally one voice rose above the rest. "What compelled you to throw yourself in front of the senator?"

  Boone shook his head. "I didn't throw myself in front of the senator." With that he turned around and pushed his way through the door.

  * * *

  Jayne's heart stopped as the doors closed behind Boone and the cameras and reporters turned this way once again. No, he hadn't thrown himself in front of the senator. He had thrown himself in front of her. And now he was walking away. She'd seen his face before he'd turned around. It wasn't the face of a man who'd be waiting in the lobby when the press conference was done.

  Jayne edged toward the stairs as her father stood tall at the podium. "I'll be happy to answer any questions," he began.

  Chad made a hissing sound and tried to wave Jayne back to her post behind her father, and the senator glanced her way as she stepped down the stairs.

  "Sorry, Daddy," she whispered. "I have to go."

  She didn't wait for a response, but hurried down the stairs and headed for the door. Halfway down the aisle, she began to run. Eyes and cameras followed, but she didn't pay them any mind.

  She burst through the doors into the lobby and immediately saw Clint and Dean standing just a few feet away, their luggage at their feet as if they were waiting for a ride to the airport.

  "Where is he?" she asked breathlessly.

  "Miss Barrington," Dean began almost solemnly. "This really isn't a good—"

  "Not now, big brother." Wearing a wide grin, Clint pointed to the revolving door. "He went thataway."

  Jayne took a step and then heard the door behind her open. She spun on Boone's brothers. "A reporter or two might try to follow me," she said as she backed toward the revolving door. "Do me a favor and don't let them."

  "We can't waylay reporters in the lobby," Dean protested.

  "Why not?" Clint asked, cracking his knuckles and then giving his neck a twist that made something there crack, as well.

  Jayne didn't wait to see what would happen. She turned away and ran for the revolving glass door, her eyes already searching the front drive and the parking lot beyond. She looked for a leather jacket and a head of long brown hair, but she saw nothing. What if she was too late?

  She ran into the parking lot, stopping once to spin around. It was such a beautiful day. The sky was impossibly blue, the air touched with spring. How could such a terrible thing happen on such a beautiful day? It wasn't right.

  Boone was nowhere to be seen. Well, she could find her way to Birmingham if she had to, and she imagined that since Boone had a business there, she'd be able to find him. But she didn't want to wait. She didn't want to spend hours on a plane wondering if he would be there, if he would be glad to see her. She wanted to see him now!

  Jayne spun one more time and he was there, stalking toward her from the three-story garage situated at the far end of the parking lot. When her eyes lit on him, she stood still and waited a moment, then ran to meet him.

  "What are you doing?" Boone asked when they both came to a stop, three feet apart.

  "Chasing you," Jayne said. "My grandmother would be horrified." She explained, "Nice girls don't chase men in the parking lot or anywhere else."

  "Then maybe you'd better get back inside and finish your press conference." For some reason those words made his jaw clench.

  "Daddy will be fine on his own. This is more important." She glanced back at the hotel. So far not a single reporter had followed her through that door. Getting past Clint and Dean would be difficult, but still, if the reporters were determined to follow, she didn't exactly have all the time in the world.

  She returned her gaze to Boone, shading her eyes with one hand so she could see his face clearly. "Do you love me?"

  "I'm pretty sure Granny wouldn't like that, either," Boone said, his jaw relaxing a little. "Surely nice girls don't go around—"

  "Dammit, Boone!"

  His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Jayne Barrington, did you just say dammit?"

  Jayne felt the warm blush in her face, but she didn't back down. She knew what Boone was doing. He was trying to make light of what had happened. He was trying to laugh off this moment so he could walk away with a clear conscience.

  "Fine," she said softly. "You think I should go back inside? All you have to do is tell me you don't love me."

  Again his face and his eyes went hard.

  "Should be easy enough for you," she said. "It's what you do best. You lie. Lie now and tell me you don't love me, and I'll walk away, and when the reporters ask me who you are, I'll tell them y
ou're just some nice man who saved my life a couple of times." She took a step forward. "Or tell the truth for once. Tell me you love me, and we'll walk out of here together right now. I'll work with you, if that's what you want. I'll help you find lost children and chase away nightmares. Or I'll wait for you while you do what you have to, if you need to do it alone, and then I'll be there for you when you come home."

  "Jayne, this is—"

  "No. No more arguments, no more jokes. The lie or the truth. Your choice."

  Boone took a deep breath. "I don't…" The rest of the sentence stuck in his throat.

  Jayne didn't say a word; she simply looked at him and waited.

  "I can't…"

  He couldn't lie to her, she knew it.

  Boone grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. She raised her arms to encircle his neck while he lifted her off her feet and hugged her tightly. "Of course I love you, dammit," he growled. "But that doesn't mean it's going to work. You should be with someone who … who … someone like that pipsqueak in there. The little guy with the clipboard and the pocket protector."

  "Chad?" she asked, horrified.

  "Whatever," he grumbled.

  Jayne kissed Boone's neck and threaded her fingers through his hair. "But I love you. And we need each other. We own each other, deep inside where no one else will ever see."

  "I know." He sighed, his entire body relaxed.

  "I love you."

  Boone held her close. "I don't ever want to let you go," he whispered. "I don't want you out of my sight for five minutes."

  "Afraid I'll get in trouble again?" she teased.

  He had looked at her this way before, eyes dark and hooded, lips tempting and slightly parted, neck corded with tension. "No. The truth is, I don't have anything real and good without you. That's scary for a guy who never needed anything before."

  "You need me."

  "Darn straight I do."

  "I need you, too," she confessed. "Like I need air and water and sleep."

  "Then I guess you'll have to marry me," he said gruffly.