Protecting Their Baby. Sheri WhiteFeather
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there with delusions about you.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.” He’d already explained earlier how the timing was off, how someone associated with him probably wouldn’t have known about the baby so soon. Not unless that same someone was connected to Lisa, too. “But I’ll check into it.”
She searched his gaze, as if looking for answers in his eyes. “Am I going to meet Daniel and Allie? And the close-quarter combat trainer and his pregnant wife?”
“If you want to.”
“I do, and your family, too.”
“I’m an only child, and my parents live in North Carolina.” Eventually he would have to tell them about the baby, but for now, he preferred to keep it to himself. In spite of their own rotten marriage, they would probably bug him about proposing to Lisa and offering their grandchild a legitimate name.
“Is that where you’re originally from?”
“Yes. The Qualla Boundary. The Eastern Band Cherokee Indian Reservation,” he explained when she gave him a curious look.
“So you’re Cherokee?”
“I’m half, from my dad’s side. My mom is white.” But she was just as traditional as his old man.
“You’ll have to teach me about your heritage. For the baby,” she added.
“Stuff like that is going to take time.” For now, all he could focus on was who had threatened her. “This case takes priority.”
She hiccupped, then tapped her chest, trying to still the jumping motion. “I’m never going to look at dolls in the same way again.”
“Someday you might have to. If we have a girl, she’ll want to play with them.”
“Maybe she’ll be a tomboy.”
“Are you kidding? A daughter of yours?” He tried to lighten her mood. “Little Miss Sugar and Spice. She’s going to be a girlie girl.”
Lisa hiccupped again. “I keep seeing it in my head. Its broken body, its chest.”
Apparently his teasing hadn’t helped. “Try to block the image. Try to clear your mind.”
“That’s easier said than done.” Another hiccup erupted.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Was it true that hiccups went away if you scared someone? He wasn’t about to try it and find out.
Lisa was already on the verge of nightmares.
Chapter 3
Lisa made it through the night. No nightmares. But that was because she’d barely slept. You couldn’t dream if you were awake.
She curled up in bed, dawn seeping through the sheers. As usual, she was nauseous. Mornings were no longer kind to her.
Fighting her baby-on-board queasiness, she reached for the crackers she kept on the nightstand. She ate slowly, munching on one saltine at a time.
But it didn’t help.
She prayed this side effect would go away before too long. Supposedly it would. But she’d heard about women who suffered from morning sickness well beyond their first trimester.
Perish the thought. She would rather die.
No, she thought. Don’t think about dying. Or dolls with knives protruding from their fragile little bodies.
Oh, God. She sat up, clutched the water bottle beside her bed and took a cautious sip.
Bad move. The water hit her stomach like a roiling rock. The saltines she’d just eaten weren’t going to stay down.
Lisa dashed down the hall to the bathroom. She knelt in front of the commode and lost her cookies or crackers or whatever.
Finally, she made her way to the sink, rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth. She scrubbed her face and combed her hair, too, trying to feel human again.
Upon exiting the bathroom, her breath caught. There stood Rex, wearing a lightweight T-shirt and drawstring shorts. He was also holding his shaving kit.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Great. He’d heard her vomit. She hadn’t considered her morning sickness when they’d agreed on a bathroom schedule. But she hadn’t expected them to wake up at the same exact hour, either. “It’s part of the pregnancy.”
“Does it happen every morning?”
“Pretty much. But some mornings are worse than others.”
“Is it going to happen again? Should I leave the door unlocked?”
Mortified, she blinked at him. She wasn’t going to go in there and throw up while he was in the shower. Then again, where else was she going to go? Barfing in a bucket sounded even more disgusting.
“I should be all right.” Her empty stomach seemed to be settling. Of course now she was hungry.
“Just in case, I won’t lock it.” He gestured to the door. “You can come in if you need to.”
And risk seeing him in the buff? Lisa sucked in her breath. Not that she hadn’t seen his beautifully sculpted body before.
She remembered being sprawled across his lap, watching the tight motion of his abs while he’d lifted her up and down.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, jarring her back to the present.
“I tossed and turned, but I made it through.” She wanted to move closer to him, but she curbed her desire to breathe him in. “I’ll probably take a nap later.”
“Is it your day off?”
“Yes. I have classes tomorrow tonight.”
“I’d like to go with you tomorrow. As a guest.”
“To my studio?” Why? So he could scout for suspects? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You promised to cooperate, Lisa.”
She sighed. Keeping her guard up with him was difficult. He was an aggressive investigator, but he had her best interest at heart. “Okay, but you better not freak everyone out.”
“I’m not going to mention the doll. I want to meet everyone first and get a feel for who they are.”
“I’m not going to say anything, either.” She would have to tell her parents, of course. But she didn’t want anyone at the studio to know, not until it was absolutely necessary. “Did you run some background checks last night?”
“Yes, but nothing suspicious surfaced. I’ve still got plenty of work to do, though.”
Because there were lots of people on the list she’d given him. Nervous, she adjusted the bodice of her modest nightgown. “How am I supposed to introduce you?”
“Just use my name.”
A simple way of letting everyone know that he was the daddy, she thought. The Sixkiller name had already been bandied about.
She changed the subject. “I’ll go start some breakfast. Are pancakes okay?”
“You’re going to cook for me? Hell, yes. Pancakes sound great.”
“Then I’ll see you when you’re dressed and ready.” Rather than damp and naked, she thought, as she walked away, his handsome image crowding her troubled mind.
After his shower, Rex put on a My Heroes Have Always Killed Cowboys T-shirt and a pair of button-fly jeans, then followed the enticing aroma.
He stood in the doorway of the kitchen and watched Lisa. She’d gotten dressed, as well. She looked soft and pretty in a loose cotton dress and sandals.
She