Harlequin Intrigue June 2015 - Box Set 2 of 2: Navy SEAL Newlywed\The Guardian\Security Breach (53 page)

When he looked at her, her eyes were wet with tears. Fear clawed at his insides. “Sandy? You said everything was fine. Is something wrong with the baby?”

“Just look at it.” Her voice was tight with emotion.

He took out the glossy photograph and looked at it, his hand shaking with the force of his pounding pulse. “This is the bean?” he asked, angling his head one way and then the other. “Sandy, what is it? What am I looking at?”

A sniffle made him glance at her. “Are you crying? God, Sandy. Just tell me. What's wrong with him?”

“Can you see him?” She traced a shape on the photo with her finger. “His head, his back, his little legs?”

Tristan did. He traced the tiny head, the curve of the little back. The perfect arms and legs. “Oh,” he said. “He looks perfect. Please tell me he's okay.” His voice broke and his eyes stung. “Please.”

Sandy didn't say anything. She just kept her gaze on the sonogram. Tristan turned back to study it. Then he noticed something odd. He frowned. “What's that?” he asked, pointing.

“Hmm?” Sandy murmured innocently.

“That.” He pointed to a small opaque object that appeared to be clutched by the bean's impossibly tiny hand. “It looks like—” He stopped. He bent to look closer.

“Like what, Tris?” she whispered.

“It looks like a—” He shook his head. If he thought his pulse was pounding before, now it was slamming against his breastbone like a battering ram. “But that's impossible,” he muttered.

Sandy chuckled softly. “You'd think so, but there it is.”

“How— What—”

“I don't know how, but that is the bullet that shot me.”

“But that's his little hand. He's
holding
it.” Tristan looked up. “What—what do the doctors say?”

“They can't explain it. They say that it should have still been going fast enough to go right through me. They said they'd have expected it to do a lot of damage to—” she swallowed and gestured vaguely “—you know.”

“I don't understand,” Tristan said as much to give his brain time to catch up with what she was telling him as because it was the truth. How had a lethal bullet penetrated Sandy's skin and come to rest in their unborn baby's hand? “It looks like he caught it—”

“—to stop it from ripping through my kidney. A few people are calling it a miracle.”

He shook his head in wonder. “It looks miraculous to me.”

Sandy smiled at him through her tears. “That would be a total of two.”

“Two?”

“Two miracles,” she said, pushing up into a sitting position and reaching for him. “The first one was you coming back to me.”

Tristan sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms and kissed her, gently, then more deeply, until when they finally stopped, both of them were breathless.

“Hmm. Actually,” Tristan murmured, “I'd have to say it makes for three miracles.”

“Three?” Sandy stared at him. “What's the third one?”

Tristan pressed a sweet kiss to her temple. “That the three of us are here together. I love you, San. With all my stubborn, stubborn heart. And that's no lying lie.”

Sandy laughed through her tears and kissed her husband. Her heart soared and the little bean kicked.

Epilogue

Several weeks later

“But you promised to bring your wedding dress,” Sandy said to Maddy. She was sitting in an overstuffed chair in the cramped living room of the mobile home Tristan had gotten set up on the site of his family home that had burned. When the windows were open, there was still a charcoal smell in the air. “I wanted to see you in it since I couldn't go to the wedding.”

“Honey,” Maddy said, “that dress would have taken its own oversize suitcase. It would have cost a fortune to bring it and I didn't want to drag it around on our honeymoon.”

“Okay, fine. But I want to see all your photos. We'll tell Tristan to put them up on the TV screen.”

Maddy sat down in a kitchen chair and looked assessingly at Sandy. “You look good. Are you really doing okay?”

“You mean except for being confined to bed for my entire pregnancy? Sure. I'm fine.”

Maddy picked up the sonogram photo off the table and looked at it again. “This is unbelievable. So they don't want you moving around too much because he might let go of the bullet?”

“Yes. Apparently it could be dangerous, and they don't want to have to go into the uterus prior to his birth.”

“Well, your sonogram went viral. Your baby is famous before he's even born.”

“I know. That's disgusting. If I can help it, he'll never know.”

“You're not going to tell him?”

“Well, not until he's twenty-five or so.”

Maddy smiled at her. “Sandy, I'm so glad nobody was hurt any worse than they were. What an ordeal you had.”

“No more than you being kidnapped and Zach being shot.”

“Oh, honey, if I'd had to go through losing Zach like you had to live through losing Tristan, I'd have died.”

Sandy rubbed her very large tummy. “I might have, if not for the bean here.”

“You're so brave,” Maddy said.

“No. It's Tristan who's brave.”

Maddy glanced toward the door. “He looks pretty good.”

“He's doing better. He almost ruined the muscle tissue he has left on that right calf, with all the running we had to do. And he still hasn't gained back his weight. He's had to spend hours every week in hearings, interrogations and interviews, but they have finally proven that the voice on the recordings is Vernon Lee's.”

“Right. I see summaries of what's going on, since I was involved in the case at the beginning.”

“It's eating Tristan up, though, that there's no proof that Lee is actually dead. I don't know if he can rest until he can view the man's body.”

Maddy shook her head. “The prevailing opinion is that he's alive. There was a lot of blood, but there have been cases in the past where people have bled themselves and saved up their blood so they could be declared dead by exsanguination.”

“Ugh. Where are Zach and Tristan? I'm hungry.”

“I know, right? How long does it take to grill some burgers.”

“And bacon!”

Maddy laughed. “You've done a 180 on bacon, I see. Even the word made you nauseous when you were first pregnant.”

At that moment, Tristan and Zach came in, laughing. Sandy noticed that Tristan was not limping as much as he sometimes did. And he looked happy. He and Zach had been best friends practically all their lives. Male friendships were odd and interesting. The two of them were acting as though they saw each other every day.

“If you'd been there, Boudreau and I would have had to carry you kicking and screaming across that bridge,” Tristan said, laughing.

Zach scowled as he set a plate of grilled burgers on the kitchen counter. “I'm not that afraid of heights. You have to get me a little above sea level before I start panicking.”

“Lunch is served,” Tristan said, walking over and bending to plant a kiss on top of Sandy's head.

“Oh, Tris, come on. No buns? No mayonnaise? No cheese? And where's my bacon?”

Zach was already headed toward the refrigerator. He pulled out a tray that contained everything, even the bacon. “Right here.”

Zach and Tristan fought over the biggest burger while Sandy and Maddy sat and watched them act like six-year-olds.

“Zach,” Maddy said. “You two are like bulls in a china shop. You're going to break the whole kitchen if you keep scuffling.” Finally she got up and forced her way between them.

“My turn,” she said.

Tristan emerged victorious, with the giant burger captured in a bun. He squirted mayonnaise on it and added cheese and bacon and brought it over to Sandy.

“Here you go, Ms. I'm-Eating-for-Two.” He handed her the plate, then sat on the arm of her chair with his hand on her tummy.

“I can't eat all that,” she protested as she prepared to take a huge bite.

She looked up at him and caught him watching Maddy and Zach.

“You've missed Zach, haven't you?”

Typical for him, he didn't answer.

“You might get to see him more if you take that position in DC.” She felt him stiffen, but she went on. “I'd be perfectly happy there. Anywhere, actually, as long as I've got you there with me.”

He looked down at her, his expression soft with a mixture of sadness and humor. “You like me,” he said teasingly.

“I cannot deny that I do,” she responded.

“What if I didn't go to DC?” he said, looking back at Maddy and Zach. “Those two were born to be government agents. Look at them. They're totally in sync. I was never good at it.”

“No. You have an honest face and an honest and romantic heart.”

“I was going to say I didn't like it. Anyhow, I happened to overhear a conversation and I almost got killed for it. I'm not interested in a steady diet of danger.”

Sandy took a deep breath as a profound relief settled on her, dissolving the heavy cloud of worry she'd been carrying around for months. Carefully she said, “What are you thinking you might want to do?”

“I've talked to a guy who's a large-animal veterinarian in Houma. He could use an assistant a few days a week. I think I'll try that. The rest of the time I plan to start working on a house.”

She couldn't stop the grin that spread on her face or the love that swelled in her heart. “You're going to build it here, where your home was?”

Tristan nodded. “Is that all right with you?”

Sandy smiled as the bean kicked the side of her growing baby bump. She took a bite of her huge burger without answering him.

Everything was all right with her world, because Tristan DuChaud loved her.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from TO HONOR AND TO PROTECT by Debra Webb & Regan Black.

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Chapter One

Interstate 10, West
Texas
Thursday, June 19, 3:10 p.m.

Addison Collins checked the fuel gauge, quickly calculating how many more miles she could put between her and the inevitable pursuit before they had to stop. Her brand-new BMW could've done that for her, but not this ancient, new-to-her Land Rover. That was what math was for, wasn't it? This was the perfect example she would keep in the back of her mind for the day her son complained about his math homework.

“Mom, how much longer?”

She recognized that tone. He was about to complain but not about math. Using the rearview mirror, she aimed a confident smile at her son. His bright hair gleamed in the sunlight coming through the window, but the glare on his face bordered on mutinous.

She couldn't blame him. They'd been on the road for two days straight and had another day left. Possibly more. “About another half hour and we'll stop again.”

“I have to pee now.”

“You'll have to hold it for a few minutes.”

“A half hour is
thirty
minutes. A few is more like three.”

Instead of maternal pride, Addison couldn't help wondering why she'd ever been inclined to teach him the difference. “And how many threes are in thirty?”

“Ten.” He turned his face to the window. “I still have to pee.”

“All right. I'll find a place to stop.”

“This car stinks,” he said a minute later.

“The car is clean. It's just new-car smell.” With a persistent undertone of mildew, but she kept that thought to herself.

“But it's an
old
car.”

“True.”
Patience will pay off
. “The car dealers spray a strong deodorizer to make it feel new.” They had periodically rolled down the windows, but the heavy-duty deodorizer scent lingered, punctuating the mildew rather than overpowering it. This vehicle might be a major step down in value from her BMW, but the dealer in Arizona had been willing to meet her trade and cash terms without any questions, and that had been priceless.

“Why?”

“So they can sell it faster.”

“Will our car stink like this when we go back home?”

“I don't know.” It was the only safe answer because she hadn't yet found the courage to tell her son they weren't going back. She hadn't lied to him and she wouldn't start now, but she wasn't ready to discuss it. The words he needed to hear to understand the gravity of their new situation just weren't coming to her, and she wasn't ready to cope with the fallout when he realized he wouldn't see his friends again.

Her own grief was too fresh, her fear of the unknown too big. When she had a handle on her feelings, she would be better able to help him with his.
Coward
, an annoying little voice in her head muttered.

“It's yucky in here,” he said, making a gagging noise. He had a point, though she wasn't about to admit it. “I feel sick.”

Addison's patience was fraying, but it wasn't Andy's fault they were in this mess. No, this was all her doing. She'd been the one to screw up their picture-perfect life by getting conned by a not-nearly perfect man. He'd looked like Mr. Right, and until a few days ago, she'd been sure he was the right man for both her and Andy. The only silver lining—and she was clinging to it—was that she'd learned the truth before the wedding.

“Roll down the window,” she said. “Some fresh air should help.”

His face brightened momentarily, then clouded over again. “Where's the button?”

She rolled her eyes. “Use that little handle thingy.”

“Huh?”

She stretched but couldn't reach it from the driver's seat. The Land Rover was built so much wider than her sedan, and the only power was under the hood. How ridiculous that an old-school vehicle could stump them both. “The window isn't electric like you're used to. Just wind it down, remember?”

She had a few minutes of peace while the manual crank amused her seven-year-old son. In a few months, he'd be eight. Although less than a week ago she'd been kicking around ideas for his birthday party, now all bets were off. She didn't know where they'd be living by his birthday, only that she intended to be sure they were both alive to celebrate it—even if it was just the two of them.

She immediately pushed that train of thought off the tracks. Right now all Andy needed to know was that they were on a summer adventure. Providing for him, taking care of his education—those questions would be answered later.

“Are we there yet?”

Not even close. “Almost.”

“Mom, I can't hold it much longer.”

“Hang on.” With her eyes on the road, she caught the squirming in the backseat. “There's a place at this next exit.”

“How long?”

“Two minutes,” she replied, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You can time me.”

His small, straight nose wrinkled as he fiddled with the big Captain America watch on his wrist. He flipped up the red, white and blue shield cover and busied himself with the stopwatch feature. Her little man had begged for the watch for Christmas and had worn it from the moment he'd ripped open the package. Only his fear of ruining it made him take it off for bath time.

She happily nurtured his love of comic book heroes, and reading through various adventures with him was part of their bedtime routine. Even in the horrible, desperate rush to get away, she'd grabbed his entire collection. More than once she'd wondered if some part of his attraction to comics was genetic. Andy's father had been a soldier, a good man and a lifelong fan of the Marvel universe. Oh, what she wouldn't give to have him here with her now.

“One minute,” Andy announced.

“My personal town crier,” she mumbled, taking the exit.

“What's a town crier?”

Nothing wrong with her boy's hearing. “Lots and lots of years ago, people didn't have smartphones or clocks or watches, so someone would walk the town streets and call out the time. ‘Three o'clock and all's well!' Like that.”

“Huh.”

“We're here.” She pulled into the parking space closest to the front door of the gas station, knowing that thoughtful “huh” sound meant more questions were dancing at the front of his brain. “You can unbuckle now.”

“You made it with ten seconds to spare.”

“Guess I should've been a race car driver.”

“Did town criers drive this old kind of car?” he asked when she came around to open his door.

“No. Town criers were way before cars.”

“Then how did they get around town?”

She held out her hand, her heart giving a happy bump when he placed his in hers without argument. “People walked or used horses and carts.”

“That's weird. Horses poop a lot.”

She laughed. “Everything has a by-product.” Inside, she glanced around for the restroom sign, leading her son back by way of the motor oil aisle rather than the candy aisle. “I know at school you've seen pictures of cities before cars.”

“And the museum field trips.” He shrugged, his gaze roving across the labels at his eye level, his feet slowing as he tried to read the words and logos on each one. Grateful for the distraction, she wasn't surprised it didn't last. When she pushed open the ladies' room door, he stopped short in the narrow hallway.

“I'm a boy,” he whispered as if she might've forgotten.

“Road rules, remember? We stick together.”

“Mom.” He scowled at her and folded his arms across his chest. “I'm too old to go in there.”

She bent close to his ear. “I understand. I even almost agree.”

“Almost?” He tilted his head, wary.

She nodded, smothering the smile for the sake of his pride. “But today it's a safety issue. We stay together.”

“It's been nothin' but safety since we left home.”

“I know. And it has to be safety for a little longer.” She silently vowed to make it up to him. Somehow. “Soon you'll have all kinds of new places and things to discover on our adventure.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

He looked back at her with the big, soft brown eyes that reminded her more and more of his father. His small hand patted her cheek. “If it makes you feel better, I'll stay with you.”

“Thank you.”

“But I want to make a new deal for when I turn eight.”

“That's certainly up for discussion.” Right now she had to be sure they lived that long.

With bladders relieved and hands washed thoroughly to the tune of the alphabet song, they cut through the store to get back on the road.

“Can I have a Coke?”

“It's ‘may I,'” she corrected automatically. “And no. We have water in the car.”

“Can I have a peanut butter cup?”

So much for her efforts to avoid the candy and junk food. “When we stop for dinner tonight, you can have a Coke and a peanut butter cup.”

“Both?” His eyes went wide with hope.

She nodded.

“How long to dinner?”

She laughed and checked her watch. “A few hours.” She wanted more distance between her and the man who had the resources to chase her off the edge of the world. Addison refused to think of him as her fiancé anymore. Although she'd done her best to blur any trail, to escape somewhere he didn't even know to search, she couldn't be sure it would work.

The idea of being so completely duped by Craig Everett infuriated her. Worse, her relationship with him was now an embarrassment in both the professional and personal context. When she thought of how much she'd shared with that worthless excuse for a man, she wanted to shoot something. Preferably Craig. They'd shared lovely romantic evenings, family-type outings with Andy and lazy sleep-late weekend mornings. All of it made her feel dirty now.

Assuming she could evade Craig until she got word the authorities had him locked down, assuming she could eventually return to her life in San Francisco, she wasn't quite sure how she'd find the courage to look her friends or her boss in the eye again.

It was hopeless to think his arrest and illegal dealings wouldn't make news up and down the West Coast. More likely, it would be national news for a short time. Which meant she and Andy would be dragged into Craig's horrendous mess by association. Their lives would be picked apart and exposed for everyone in the world to judge. It was possible even her secluded destination in the uncharted depths of a Louisiana swamp wouldn't be shelter enough.

Because she'd been the idiot who nearly married an American traitor.

She buckled Andy into the booster seat and closed the door, stifling the violent words that wanted to pour out of her whenever she thought about what Craig had done. Telling herself she'd broken up his system and stopped him didn't help as much as it should. Maybe that would change with time. So many things did.

The facts crawled like a line of ants between her shoulder blades. The sensation grew worse when she considered the likelihood that Craig's slimy dealings had cost other women—other families—the grief she'd felt when Andy's father had been killed in action on the other side of the world.

If Drew Bryant, her favorite soldier, were alive he'd...

Biting her lip, she pulled herself together. If Drew were alive, all of this would be irrelevant. Unnecessary. She, Drew and Andy would be a family, settled in some happy suburb or on farmland far from California. A road trip like this really would be a grand summer adventure. Complete with two drivers and possibly a brother or sister in the backseat with Andy. Even when she and Drew were children themselves, they'd dreamed of having a big family.

If Drew were alive, she wouldn't have been with Craig at all. It would've been up to someone else to catch that traitorous, double-talking jerk trading secrets and sensitive military information with who knew how many unsavory people.

If, if, if.
Exasperated with herself, Addison slid into the driver's seat and moved the car to the gas pump. Might as well top it off while she was here. Hopefully it would save her a stop later.

No matter how she coached herself, she wasn't sure catching Craig qualified as a blessing in disguise, not when she knew it could cost her everything she held dear. But turning over the information she'd found had been automatic, a reflex she couldn't suppress any more than breathing. No one should profit from the pain and suffering of others.

Craig had made a fortune for himself and others through legal means. Discovering the fortune he'd amassed through illegal negotiations had shocked her. She couldn't fathom how he'd made that leap into predatory dealings. She'd only scraped the tip of the iceberg, but she knew without any doubt what would happen if Craig or his nasty colleagues caught up with her and Andy before the authorities took action.

She smiled at her son through the window as she pumped gas. Being the whistle-blower was difficult for anyone, but a single mom? Although she couldn't abide letting Craig go unpunished, she kept wondering if there'd been a better way to take him down. She'd completely altered two lives when she'd sent the files as an anonymous tip to the local FBI office. All she could do now was hide and pray for the best.

A few more miles down the road Andy piped up again. “Are we going to SeaWorld?”

She'd noticed the billboard, too, and the question wasn't unreasonable, but she found herself wishing for nightfall. “Not this trip, honey.” Thinking of the crowds and security cameras raised goose bumps along her arms. An attraction like that could prove more risk than entertainment.

“Will Craig have part of our summer adventure with us?”

Only in my nightmares,
she thought. “Not this trip,” she repeated, glancing at the elaborate engagement ring that remained on her hand. Taking it off would have Andy asking still more questions she wasn't ready to answer. Once they reached the bayou she'd throw the damn thing to the nearest alligator. Imagining Craig's outrage over that move made her smile.