by Louise Dawn
“No.” Supporting her shoulders, he shifted into a crouch.
“What do you mean—” Her heart pounded as he lifted her quickly. His muscled arms felt so safe, and she remembered the last time he’d held her at the airport all those weeks ago.
And now, thanks to their daily chats, they knew each other a little better. Antonio always reached out to her, asking what she was up to. How her day went. He’d chat about his fellow agents and his hopes for an MSD career.
They both spoke about the places they’d visited and lived over their lifetimes. She’d never been to Spain or Belgium, and he’d tell her about his crazy adventures in Europe. And his West Point days—how hard it was to leave his family back in Brussels.
Pearl reminisced over her modeling days in Paris, London, and Milan, and Antonio thought it was the coolest thing that she was once a model. He’d even jumped on the internet to find her old campaigns. Those phone calls and texts had become the highlight of her day—a moment where she could lay back on the sofa and laugh a little. There was no laughing now. Antonio looked angry and concerned.
Because Pearl had failed yet again. Why couldn’t she get on her feet? Instead, she’d blown the interview, scared her daughter, and now had to rely on this perfect superhero to sweep in and save the day.
“I’m taking you to the ER.” Antonio stood, surprised at how light Pearl felt in his arms. Clamping down on his frustration, he edged them out of the tiny bathroom. He caught a whiff of fresh shampoo as her head rolled against his shoulder. She still kept her hair short—in that Demi Moore cut—and as he looked down at her delicate collarbone, his heart stirred at the vulnerable sight of Pearl in his arms. The outline of her soft breasts beneath thin cotton had him cursing beneath his breath.
“Let’s get your mommy dressed. Can you help with that, Aysha? Run upstairs and get some sweats for your mom?”
The little girl raced up the passage.
“Slowly up those stairs!” Antonio yelled. “We don’t need two accidents.”
“I can’t go.” Pearl tried to shift in his arms. “The ER… too expensive.”
“Don’t worry about the money. Your health comes first.”
“Please… put me down.”
He squeezed her closer, all too aware of her chilled and shaking limbs. “You’re on my watch now. What kind of man would I be if I were to dump you in your bed and walk away?”
“You… don’t understand.”
“Oh, I do.” His blood warmed. “Your self-sacrificing attitude is now biting you in the ass.” He leaned down and spoke quietly in her ear. “I’m fucking angry because you’re not alone, so stop pretending like you don’t need help. You fell down the stairs and could’ve died. And then where would your daughter be?”
“It’s not my fault that I got food poisoning!”
“You weren’t taking care of yourself before you got sick. I’m not stupid. You give everything to Aysha, and you go without. Those groceries that I buy? They’re for both of you.”
She stiffened in his arms. “I don’t need you to buy groceries. We’re fine and—”
“Ten weeks. You’ve been in the States for ten fucking weeks. Building an income with a new identity while on the run and with no resume is impossible in that short time frame. Cut yourself some slack and let me help.”
A tear slid down her pale cheek. “We’re not your problem.”
“No. You’re not my problem.”
Pearl pulled in a breath.
“You’re not anyone’s problem. You’re a gift. Both of you. I’m privileged to have you in my life. And I know I’m just a friend, but I want to help.”
He wanted to do more than help. The attraction he felt for Pearl expanded, and he didn’t want to resist the pull. But he wouldn’t take advantage of her in a vulnerable state. Once she was settled, he planned on asking her out on a proper date. Being her landlord put him in an awkward position. He never wanted her to feel pressured or obligated by their unique situation. Besides, she may not even feel the pull.
Antonio couldn’t stop thinking about the gorgeous woman lying in his arms. For weeks he’d wanted to taste her… to feel her… to touch her. He looked down at her dazed expression, and she met his gaze. Time slowed as he took in every detail. Her dark blue eyes looked like stormy seas against her chalk-white skin. She had the prettiest mouth—bow-shaped, soft lips that were now parted as her hand drifted up to cup his bristled jaw.
“Why are you so good to us?”
Antonio couldn’t answer. Little feet ran down the stairs, and Aysha rushed over, carrying a pile of clothes. “Which color, Mommy?”
Antonio lowered Pearl to the sofa and reached for a pair of sweatpants.
“I don’t care, Bug. Come sit beside me.”
Aysha crawled up on the couch and took Pearl’s hand as Antonio knelt to roll on her sweatpants.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“Love you too. I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Can you stand for a second?” Antonio waited as Pearl stood, leaning a delicate hand on his shoulder as he pulled up her pants. He ignored his close proximity to her shapely thighs as he tied the drawstring. After she pulled on a sweatshirt, he grabbed both their keys and lifted her back in his arms.
“Let’s go.”
“My purse. Aysha.” Pearl pointed at the closet.
And then they were out the door. Antonio breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he would get her on a hospital gurney within the next fifteen minutes. Hopefully, she was just dehydrated and didn’t have any complications from the head injury or the fall.
Chapter Seven
“See? I’m fine.”
“A slight concussion, blurry vision, fever, and dehydration? Dehydration alone can cause death.” Antonio folded his arms and leaned back in a chair. He’d shed his black jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the sexiest forearms.
Pearl tore her eyes away from the charismatic man. “You’re dramatic.”
“He’s right.” The female doctor smiled and patted Pearl’s arm. “This was a severe case of food poisoning. The main culprit in some restaurant pizza is often raw eggs in the undercooked dough. But meat and cheese topping can contain Listeria. We’ve drawn blood, and I’ll send you home with an antibiotic.”
“Aysha—my daughter—will also need to be treated with the same antibiotic. We saw a doctor yesterday, and they also took her blood. I think they’ve given her a generic antibiotic.”
Antonio leaned forward. “You didn’t think to ask for an antibiotic at the same time?”
Pearl felt herself flush. “The meds were expensive. I thought I’d just ride it out.”
“Oh, you’ve ridden it out all right.”
“Agent Torres, save your sarcasm for later in the week when I’ve recovered enough to kick your ass.”
“You said a bad word, Mommy!” Aysha sat cross-legged at the end of Pearl’s bed, playing with Shreddy as a nurse checked her daughter’s vitals.
“How much longer do I have to stay?” Pearl asked the doctor.
“Once that saline drip is empty, you can go home.”
They’d been at the ER for hours, and even Antonio looked tired. He’d watched over Aysha while Pearl had the CT scan and had even taken her child down to the cafeteria for soup and toast. Without his support, Pearl would’ve been a lot more stressed. Her stomach still sat in knots over the impending hospital bill. She’d sort out a payment plan. The doctor left, and when the nurse walked back in, Pearl asked the dreaded question.
“Can you check how much I owe for this visit? What do I have to pay today—in cash?”
“Can I have ice cream?” Aysha slid off the bed.
“No. Firstly, you’re still sick, and secondly, it’s late—past your bedtime.”
Instead of nagging, Aysha yawned and walked over to Antonio. “What’s your favorite ice cream?”
“Um.” He looked up from his phone. “Strawberry.”
Ignoring his startled express
ion, Aysha pushed aside his arm and climbed onto his lap. He immediately cradled her as she settled in and rested her head on his chest.
His panicked eyes found Pearl’s, and she shrugged.
“Are you tired, Lovebug?” Pearl asked.
Aysha clutched at his black shirt and nodded. “My favorite is chocolate. Neo, why do you like strawberries?”
“Because strawberries can taste tart or sweet like honey depending on how ripe they are. Sometimes I like them both ways.”
“What’s tart?”
Antonio frowned as he thought of an explanation. “When it makes your eyes water. It has a sharp taste. Like your mommy, right now.”
“Very funny.” Pearl shot him a glare.
He grinned and looked down at Aysha. “But Bichito, if you were a strawberry, you’d be the sweetest one.”
“I don’t like strawberries.” Aysha’s eyes looked sleepy. “Only chocolate.”
Within seconds, she was out like a light. Antonio gently pocketed his phone and re-situated Aysha in his arms.
“You can put her on the bed.”
“No, I’m fine.” His mouth lifted. “Quite a day, huh?”
“Yeah.” Pearl sighed. “I don’t think I’ll be landing that job.”
“I’m trying to imagine how it went down….”
Pearl grinned. “An epic moment for the history books. The poor woman. In retrospect, it was pretty funny.” Shaking her head, she chuckled. “When the assistant threw up on Rachel’s Ralph Lauren suit… the ‘Director of Operations’ had a really bad day.” Pearl used air quotes and teared up from laughing so hard.
He smiled widely and turned from dangerous to irresistible. “You knew what suit she was wearing?”
“After a decade in that world, I know my designers.” She swiped at her eyes. “Two thousand dollar threads. I’m just glad that we cleaned ourselves—and the kitchen—before you swept in to save the day. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I’d do it a hundred times over.” The sincerity in his gaze had her looking away.
At that moment, Pearl decided to confide and share one of her darkest secrets. She may need Antonio’s advice and didn’t want to make a rash decision.
“I have… I have family in the city.”
“In Fairfax?” Antonio cocked his head.
“Yes. A sister. I may be meeting with her this week.”
“Why haven’t you contacted her before now?” Antonio looked down at Aysha and lowered his voice. “Does she know your ex-husband?”
“They’ve never met, and Rajin knows nothing about my… former life.”
Antonio’s gaze shot to hers. “Former life?”
“‘Taylor’ is my birth name—last name.”
“Your family’s name….”
“No. That’s ‘Olsen.’ Not the family you’re thinking of. The Olsens adopted me when I was eleven.”
“You were adopted?” Antonio’s gaze had sharpened to the point that she felt skewered.
Pearl swallowed past her dry throat. “I suppose you could call the “Olsens” a decent family. I was never physically abused, but I wasn’t treated right. I was… a burden—at least to my adopter mother. Her husband wanted a daughter and was a good father when he was around, but he traveled a lot and worked in the mining field. He was the one that pushed for an adoption that his wife didn’t want.”
“Jeez, Pearl. What happened to your birth parents?”
Her eyes burned, and she shook her head. “I won’t—can’t—I’m not ready for that conversation. I had a sister, and we were sent to an orphanage. They split us apart. She won the adoption lottery—landed with loving parents. She was younger than I and adopted at an early age.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and Antonio shook his head.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I turned out just fine, and I kept in touch with my sister—for several years. We stopped speaking because… well, we stopped when I moved to Europe. I visited once, and then cut off all communication.”
“And you’re planning to meet up with her again?”
“Aside from an old email address, she doesn’t have my contact information. She still keeps sending emails—once a month. Tells me all about her life—her blessed marriage and wonderful kids.”
“Yet, you’re reluctant to reach out,” Antonio stated. “Why?”
Pearl stared at a white wall. “Seeing her again will break my heart.”
The nurse walked in and headed for the IV stand. “You’re done. You don’t owe anything for today. We’ll send you the balance, but I suggest that you check in with our billing department.”
“That’s impossible. I’m pretty sure that I’ll need to pay at least six hundred today? Three hundred?”
“No, ma’am.” The nurse shot a sideways glance at Antonio. Her gaze lingered, and Pearl felt jealousy flare. Over the past hours, he’d garnered attention from most of the nurses in the ER. Especially when he’d carried Pearl through the entrance like a dark knight.
And now, her daughter lay curled in those same strong arms. Pearl’s poor heart couldn’t take gallant chivalry. There had to be a dent in that attentive armor. Why did he feel like a sheltering shadow when she needed someone the most?
Pearl wasn’t what he expected, and Antonio’s stomach churned at her revelation. He still made assumptions. He’d thought that she’d come from a privileged background—a Colorado farming family. She’d embarked on her modeling adventures, all while supported by indulgent parents.
What type of childhood had she experienced? Adopted at eleven years old. What had happened before that? How long had she waited for a family? Had she been abused in the system? Why did she isolate herself from her sibling—a blood relative who clearly wanted to stay in touch?
Antonio watched as the nurse took down the saline and felt reassured by Pearl’s returning strength. She sat up in bed and now had some color to her cheeks. He’d drop her back home and run out and buy some Gatorade—electrolytes—maybe some crackers and soup.
When she’d gone for the CT scan, he’d paid the medical bill. If she found out, which she eventually would, he’d land in the doghouse. But she couldn’t afford a three-thousand-dollar bill. Antonio could.
Over the years, Antonio had been frugal with his cash. And he’d earned good money in the military as an SF soldier. He also had a trust fund which he barely touched, thanks to his wealthy father. Since he’d insisted on the ER visit, it was only fitting that Antonio settled the bill. That was the logic, and he’d stick to that statement.
He would never regret helping Pearl. He cared about her future. Hell, he cared about the little tyke sleeping in his arms. Aysha looked so tiny, and every now and then, she’d twist his shirt in her fist. He gently felt her forehead, checking for fever, but she was fine. She’d been lucky with a mild case. Her dinner had stayed down, and she hadn’t had a tummy ache since eating.
Her earlier cries for her daddy had broken Antonio’s heart. The relationship between father and daughter was clearly a loving one, and she’d been torn away from his side. But the dozens of tapes displaying torture and murder painted her father as a monster.
And if he ever found Pearl… Aysha’s father could end up hurting or killing her mother. How would Aysha ever recover? Rajin needed to be stopped, and the thousands of miles between them didn’t reassure Antonio. What lengths would a father go to retrieve his family? And what lengths would Antonio go to protect them?
Chapter Eight
“Antonio Torres. So, we have a name.” Harland sounded pleased as Cyrus suppressed a yawn. He’d been watching the DS agent’s apartment building for the past two days. On the flight to the States, Agent Torres had sat in the same aisle as Pearl Bandara. He’d also rented a car from the airport, so now they had a second city to search.
Cyrus closed his eyes and tried to put himself in the agent’s shoes who’d been put in charge of protecting a beautiful socialite and a “cute” kid for almost two days. Did the
agent walk away after that? Was the protection detail just a job? Stretching out in his driver’s seat, Cyrus focused on the lobby of the secure building.
If only they could gain access to CCTV footage of the airport—that was beyond Harland’s and the client’s reach. With zero traces of her movements after landing, Agent Torres’s rental car was the only logical choice. So, he takes the mother and child to Virginia, and then what? Were they hiding in the agent’s home? Over the past couple of days, Cyrus hadn’t seen a trace, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t inside the house.
Next, he’d start trailing the agent while showing tremendous caution. The guy was well trained and vigilant. He also checked his vehicle, doing regular walkarounds and feeling around the exterior. The agent’s overly cautious attitude meant that he was on the lookout for trouble.
“We don’t only have a name; we have the best lead we’ve had in weeks. Now that I have a lock on her possible location, I’ll figure out a breach.”
“Don’t kill the DS agent unless it’s a controlled situation. We don’t need the heat.”
“Wasn’t planning to, but if he gets in the way, he’ll get hurt.”
Nothing came between Cyrus and a job. He rubbed his thigh as he considered his options. He was good at executing a mission, but he’d need support.
“Mobilize the rest of the team. I need eyes and ears and muscle when required. We’ll move in fast. Pearl Bandara won’t know what’s hit her.”
Once he’d hung up, Cyrus reached for the folder beside him. He scrolled through the wad of photographs, pausing on Pearl’s delicate features. An older image of her at a charity event in Colombo. Her perfect smile and sparkling eyes drew attention, and others in the photograph stared her way. She’d pulled her long blonde hair into a high ponytail and wore a simple white cotton shirt and skirt as she handed out food. Such a humble tease… pretending to care.
She wanted to be touched by a real man. Cyrus could feel her lonely desire, but he couldn’t give her the tenderness she craved. He wanted to wrap his hands around her pretty neck and squeeze. Would Cyrus get that chance? Or would Rajin Bandara be greedy in his revenge?
