For Her Protection. Lauren Giordano
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if he’s after you…” She felt guilty even voicing the statement. Here he was, protecting them and all. But dammit, she hadn’t asked for any of this.
“Maybe.” To his credit, Luke didn’t appear angered over her disloyalty.
“Then we can go?”
“We’ll see.” His noncommittal response sent angry heat to her cheeks.
“What does that mean? You can’t hold us indefinitely.”
“I cahn’t?”
“Stop teasing,” she ordered. “Why can’t we leave?”
“Are you forgetting that you saw him, too? I can’t be sure that he’s only after me. If I let you leave, he could just as easily send someone after you.”
“Well, if he’s on the run like you say—”
“It doesn’t mean a thing,” he interrupted. “Last night two men were ordered to take me out,” he emphasized. Several seconds passed before he spoke again. “Those orders may have included you.”
“But that means we’re in danger whether we’re with you or not.”
The sun shone warm on the back of her neck, mocking the shiver that jolted up her spine. The sound of mingled laughter carried across the field from the swingset, blending with the birds chirping in the magnolia tree behind them. It felt completely safe.
Yet the blood on his hands had been incredibly real. The spatters on his shirt defied the illusion of safety. “Your shirt…I mean the, um, blood and everything. Those men— Did you…I mean, you didn’t have to—”
Jillian glanced up, her expression clearly anxious. Christ, she was actually worried that he’d killed those scumbags. It was the typical bleeding-heart reaction Luke saw all too often and he could feel his blood pressure rising. Drugs and drug dealers were a plague that needed to be dealt with harshly. Drug abuse was not a feel-good social cause. Period. Luke mused that Jillian was probably one of those types who thought addicts should be coddled rather than tossed into jail. Her Ladyship didn’t want to believe those guys would’ve killed her in a heartbeat. She didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that he’d probably saved her royal ass.
“You weren’t hurt again, were you?”
Hold everything. She was worried…for him? “Nah, I’m fine. And I didn’t have to—you know, kill anyone.” He paused then and frowned. He shouldn’t be telling this woman anything. He had a job to do, no matter what it took to accomplish it. Why was he wasting time trying to reassure her?
“But the blood on your—”
“I just had to disable them. There’s a big difference.” It probably wasn’t a good time to tell her about the desk clerk’s fate. Or how close they’d come to meeting the same end. He glanced down at the front of his shirt, noticing the faint spatters of blood for the first time. “Is it really noticeable from where you’re sitting?”
She squinted up at him, shading her eyes from the sun that rose behind him. Luke’s nerve endings felt her perusal all the way to the top of his head and he mentally cursed himself for being so stupid. Hands down, when this op was over, he was gonna find himself a woman. The dry spell had obviously gone on for much too long.
“No,” she said finally. “It’s sort of faded and brown. Looks more like you spilled something all over you.” Her expression changed to doubt as she wrinkled up her nose. “I have an old shirt that might fit you. My suitcase is in the boot. Before we start up again, I’ll look for it.”
“I can’t imagine you’d have anything that would fit me.” Not with that body. She was built like a dream. He stood and stretched his legs, dispelling his fantasy and draining the last of his juice before he tossed the cup in the trash can.
“I’ve got a few of Ian’s old shirts. They might work.” Jilly picked up a plastic key ring and shook it as Sarah cooed.
His interest perked up another notch. “Who’s Ian?”
She sighed and he noticed that she seemed to want to look everywhere except at him, instead choosing to scan the playground for the boys. “Oh, that’s a long story. He’s an old friend.”
Luke sat gingerly on the end of the picnic table and forced himself to drop it. This girl was none of his business. He didn’t want to know anything about her or the kids. Only what he needed to keep them alive. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter how many damn boyfriends she’d had. It didn’t matter one freakin’ bit.
After tonight, Jillian would spend a day or so in Charlotte for debriefing. Then they’d head north to resume life in what was probably a quaint little New Hampshire town. And he’d never see any of them again. The days they’d spent with him would fade in their memories until it became just another funny story of Jilly’s adventures.
But just because they were safe for the moment, didn’t mean he could afford to let down his guard. He needed to stay focused. Nothing about this op had been routine. Even Murphy had been reluctant to start the final reports on the failed mission. Something wasn’t right. He just didn’t know what. But his gut still strummed on red alert, telling him to keep them out of sight. He’d never ignored his gut before. He sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.
Annoyed with himself, he readjusted his position on the end of the table. Despite the gauze padding and the glow-in-the-dark Band-Aids, his butt was still pretty sore. What he really needed was underwear. When James had discovered in the men’s room that Luke wasn’t wearing any briefs, he’d wanted to rid himself of his Spider-Man underpants. And Samuel would’ve followed right along. A trio of men going commando. Now wouldn’t Her Ladyship have appreciated that?
She glanced over just in time to see him wince. “What is it? Is your wound hurting? I knew you should’ve let me clean it.”
“What is it with this fascination for my butt? You took one look at it and now that’s all you can think about,” he said, forgetting that he was trying to maintain a professional distance. Something about that British accent made him want to prod her. So cool on the outside…so prim and proper. But just under the surface—lava, baby.
She pressed her lips together and frowned. “Yes…well, as fascinating as I found your backside, it simply didn’t stop traffic for me—if you know what I mean.” She finally turned to stare at him. “I realize it’s probably not possible, but if you could be serious for a single moment…”
“Sure. Try me.”
“I’m trying to determine whether or not you’re in pain. I have more of those pills.”
“The chick stuff?” He shook his head. “You know, all of a sudden, my cramps are much better.” Her Ladyship had a damn fine temper, he noted. He couldn’t tell whether she wanted to laugh or haul off and smack him.
“Is your injury hurting worse?”
“Oh, that.” He waved away her concern. “Nah, it’s fine. Just a little sore, that’s all. It’s draining okay and I cleaned it with the stuff you gave me. Stop worrying about it.”
“It sounds like you’ve had some experience. Have you been shot before?”
He limped over to the blanket and gingerly sat down, and before he realized it, he’d reached out a finger and was tickling Sarah’s belly. “Only a few times.”
Her eyes were incredulous. “Only a few? Good Lord. What does your wife think about your line of work?”
He smiled at the now chortling Sarah. “Not very much. She, uh, left me four years ago.”
Jilly tsked under her breath. “I’m sorry about that. Were you married long? You don’t look very old.”
“Six years. We met in college.” He glanced up, reading the sympathy in her eyes. She really was way too soft.
“And