Read Her Baby's Bodyguard Online
Authors: Ingrid Weaver
Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Suspense
No! Oh, God! No! She couldn’t bear the thought of either of them hurt. She loved her child more than her life. And the sergeant…She swallowed against a lump in her throat. No, she wouldn’t want any harm to come to him, either. It wasn’t just because he was now her only hope for reaching safety.
Eva could still hear the helicopter, but she didn’t care. She shoved herself away from the boulder and peered at the road. “Sergeant Norton?”
The breeze was beginning to blow the smoke away, revealing scorch marks and gouges between the ruts on the road surface. The truck was already out of sight around a bend. The road was empty except for an oblong, mud-streaked object that lay on a thin layer of snow beside a puddle….
She wasn’t conscious of racing forward. She couldn’t even think until she reached the puddle and saw that the object was only the sergeant’s pack. She picked it up and looked around. “Sergeant Norton?” she called.
The helicopter glinted in the distance, a flash of royal blue against the streaks of gold in the dawn sky. It banked to the right and vanished behind a ridge of black rock. The beat of its propeller faded, only to be replaced by the sound of running footsteps.
The sergeant was jogging down the road toward her, the sides of his coat flying open. He didn’t appear to have been hurt. He moved with ease in spite of the fact he held his rifle with one hand and was cradling Katya to his chest with the other. The baby was still in her carrier. And she wasn’t making a sound.
Eva dropped the pack and sprinted to meet them. She slid to a stop and grabbed his arms. “What happened? What’s wrong with…” Her words trailed off when Katya turned her head, pulled her thumb from her mouth and smiled.
Air rushed back into Eva’s lungs so quickly that she felt faint. She dropped her forehead against the sergeant’s shoulder. A sound pushed at her throat, trying to get out, but she couldn’t tell whether it was a sob or a laugh.
He let go of Katya and ran his palm over Eva’s back. “Are you okay?”
She nodded against his coat.
“Did the jump do any damage?” he asked, opening her coat. Before she realized what he intended, he slipped his hand under her sweater and touched his fingertips to her side over the bandage. “It still feels dry. That’s good. Does it hurt? You seem wobbly.”
She shook her head. He’d instructed her to protect her side with her arm and roll when she landed. She had no memory of what she’d done. “Don’t worry about me. How’s Katya?”
He withdrew his hand and stroked Eva’s hair. “The squirt’s fine. Her mittens came off. That’s all. I’ve got them in my pocket. You told me that she wouldn’t break, remember?”
Yes, that’s what she’d told him. It had seemed like so long ago since she’d said that, but less than a day had passed. She’d been so determined to act strong. What had happened to her resolve to show no weakness?
“I think she enjoyed it when I ran. She made a noise that sounded like a giggle. On the other hand, it could have been gas.”
She blinked at a rush of tears. “When I couldn’t find you and I couldn’t hear her, I thought…”
“I know.” He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against his side. “I’m sorry I worried you. I jumped later. I wanted to wait for a snowdrift to cushion my landing so she didn’t get hurt.”
She watched as Katya found her thumb again and started sucking in earnest. “Thank you.”
“I’m pretty sure she liked the jumping part, too. Maybe we should do it again. If she gets cranky I can climb on a rock or something and—”
Eva thumped his shoulder with her fist and raised her head. “This isn’t funny.”
He smiled. “Your daughter’s a real trouper, Eva.” He wiped his knuckle across her cheek. “She’s almost as brave as her mother.”
“I’m not brave.”
He kissed her forehead. “You are downright awesome.”
She didn’t know what surprised her more, the compliment or the kiss. “Sergeant Norton…”
“Call me Jack,” he said.
No. She shouldn’t think of him as Jack. He had to remain the sergeant, no matter how beautiful his smile was. It crinkled the corners of his eyes and deepened the lines around his mouth. It made his gaze sparkle, and it made her heart want to smile back. How was she supposed to remember he was only doing his duty and that his consideration wasn’t personal? How could she keep from liking him?
Then again, clinging to the formality hadn’t stopped her from developing feelings for him anyway, had it? How many times had he shielded her now? He’d held her, he’d let her sleep on his shoulder. He understood her worry about Katya and tried to comfort her. He even tried to make her laugh. “Sergeant—”
“Jack,” he repeated more firmly, pressing his forefinger to her lips. His smile faded. “The first thing we need to do is find some transportation. To do that, we’ll need to head for the nearest town. If you slip and someone hears you address me by my rank, it’s going to attract negative attention.”
She fought the desire to part her lips over his finger. It felt natural to touch him, to lean on him, to share his warmth and his strength…
His words finally registered. He wasn’t inviting her to use his first name out of friendship. It was so he could achieve his mission. What on earth was she thinking?
Her feelings for him couldn’t be real, she reminded herself. They were a product of the circumstances and adrenaline. That’s why her heart was beating so fast. And there was their almost constant proximity. She was losing track of the number of times she’d felt his body against hers. This was only a physical reaction. She could control it. She
had
to control it.
Eva jerked away from his touch and went to retrieve the pack.
The café was at the edge of a square paved with pockmarked stones in a town whose name Jack didn’t even try to pronounce. Judging by the crowd of customers inside and the number of vendors who had set up stalls outside, it was a market day. Which was a stroke of luck. With people coming into town to buy, sell or swap their goods, the presence of two additional strangers would be less likely to be noted. Jack glanced at the table closest to theirs. Currently, it was occupied by a pair of elderly men in dark woolen caps. They’d barely glanced at Jack and Eva as they’d sat down—their attention was solely on the plates of grilled sausages and boiled beets they were wolfing down.
Jack tore off a piece of bread to soak up the grease on his plate and looked across the table at Eva. She had insisted on holding the kid on her lap with one hand while she ate with the other. It didn’t hamper her movements in the least—maybe mothers were accustomed to functioning one-handed. She was digging into her food with as much enthusiasm as the old men.
He was relieved to see that her appetite was healthy. It had been almost midday by the time they’d reached town, since Eva had needed to stop twice along the way to tend to the baby—first to feed her and then to change her diaper. Though she’d tried to match Jack’s pace, he’d seen that her energy had been flagging and it had worried him.
“Feeling better?” he asked. He kept his voice low out of habit, but the chances of anyone overhearing them were next to nil. Because of the noise from the other customers and the folk music blaring from the transistor radio behind the counter, Jack hadn’t been able to hear what the men at the next table were saying or even what language they were speaking.
Eva nodded as she swallowed another mouthful. “Much better, thanks. I needed this.”
“How’s your wound? Any pain? Does it feel hot?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“You need to tell me if it isn’t, Eva. You can’t afford to get sick.”
“I understand.” She stabbed a chunk of sausage and chewed it thoroughly. “I looked under the bandage after I nursed Katya. It’s fine,” she repeated.
“I’d like to examine it again myself when we’re done here.”
Her cheeks immediately pinkened. “Really, that’s not necessary. There’s nothing to see.”
She was wrong about that. There was plenty to see—only it wasn’t what he should be looking at.
It had taken all of Jack’s self-control to give her the privacy she’d asked for while she’d breast-fed the baby. He’d thought it was for the best. They had a long way to go together, and now more than ever he couldn’t afford to let his concentration lapse. He should be thinking of her as a mission objective instead of a woman. “I’m concerned that you seemed faint.”
“That’s because I was hungry.” She gestured toward the baby. “It takes a lot of calories to produce milk.”
All right. That could explain her decreased energy. It wasn’t due to a medical issue, only a maternal one. Jack shoved another piece of bread in his mouth and tried not to picture Eva’s breasts filling with milk.
The trouble was, everything else about her seemed just as sensual. If he wasn’t obsessing over her breasts, it was her hair. She’d stuffed it back under her hat before they’d come into town as an attempt to make herself less memorable, but it was too fine to stay in place for long. One piece had slid over her ear and dangled beside her jaw to frame her face. It shifted each time she chewed, drawing his attention to her mouth. And if he wanted to maintain even a shred of professionalism, he definitely shouldn’t be looking at her lips.
She was a beautiful woman. Not because of her individual features, although her eyes were a spectacular blue, her skin was flawless and her cheekbones would make models envious. No, Eva’s appeal came from what was inside. Her determination was attractive and so was her courage. Even her devotion to her child added to her appeal.
How could he have thought of her as an ice princess? There was plenty of heat beneath the surface. She wasn’t immune to this physical thing between them, either. Those blushes of hers proved it.
“Where do we go from here, Jack?”
He had plenty of ideas on that, starting with seeing the rest of her, preferably when she wasn’t holding the baby. Considering all the passion she’d shown so far, Eva wouldn’t be a passive lover….
Man, he had to try harder to keep his mind on business. He slid his plate aside and leaned across the table. “I’ve got maps and a GPS unit in my pack, along with a wad of rubles. Once we get transportation, we’re going to head for the rendezvous. We’ll wait for our evac there.”
She appeared to consider that for a while. Some of the tension in her shoulders began to ease. “It sounds as if you came well prepared,” she said.
“Uh-huh. Getting separated from the team is just another one of those contingencies we like to plan for. We’re all expected to be able to reach the rendezvous on our own.”
“I hope the rest of the men aren’t in trouble. What if Burian’s men decide to fire on them after all?”
“I’d put my money on our guys any day. They’ll probably meet up with us before our chopper gets in, but if they don’t, they’ll find some other way to get home.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry, Eva. We’re professionals. We do this kind of thing all the time.”
She stopped chewing and looked at him. “Why?”
“Why? Because that’s what we’re paid for.”
“I don’t think so. We’ve known each other less than a day, and already you’ve risked your life at least twice for mine. This isn’t simply a job for you.”
“Hey, some guys hang glide or climb mountains.”
“Are you saying you
enjoy
the risk?”
“It can be a rush. It makes me feel alive.”
She shuddered. “Not me. I go out of my way to avoid adventures. I like my routines.”
“Could have fooled me. You and the pipsqueak are doing great at this.”
“I would prefer being in a nice safe office with a stack of journals any day to getting shot at and jumping out of moving trucks.”
“Do I know how to show a girl a good time or what?”
She was startled into a laugh. It was a liquid, sweet sound, and it pleased Jack far more than it should have. He enjoyed making her smile, mostly because he could see that she tried to resist it.
As she did now. She shook her head and stabbed her last piece of sausage with enough force to make the fork squeak across her plate. “We’re completely different, Jack.”
He wanted to argue with her about that, but he wasn’t sure why. They
were
different. He couldn’t think of one thing that they had in common. “What made you decide to become a scientist, anyway?”
“Probably the chemistry set my father gave me for my sixth birthday.”
“Didn’t you play with dolls? I thought all girls had dolls.”
“That sounds very sexist.”
“No way. I’m an enlightened kind of guy. It’s just something I heard.”
“Then it’s not entirely accurate. From the time I went to live with my father, I wasn’t allowed to play with dolls. I had plenty of books, though. He believed all toys should have an educational value. He encouraged me to expand my mind.”
“You went to live with him when you were only four.”
She lifted one shoulder. “He raised me how he thought best. As it turned out, I had an aptitude for numbers.”
“Well, I guess that would help.”
“I liked them because they behave predictably, as long as you know the correct formula. When I was growing up, numbers were…” She trailed off and shook her head. “It’s not important.”
“Tell me anyway. What about numbers?”
She finished her sausage and put down her fork. “They were like people to me.”
“Okay, you’re going to have to explain that one.”
“My father moved frequently from one position to another. He was often away. There were always new nannies and new schools to get used to. New languages, too. But the numbers never changed. They behaved the same whatever country we were in. I always recognized them. Their properties were like personality traits, so they were familiar to me, like…”
“Friends,” he finished for her.
She gave him a half smile. “That wasn’t in my file, was it?”
“No. Our intel is good but not that good.”
“What about you, Jack?”
“Me? I flunked math. The only time numbers get my attention is when they have to do with odds.”
“Odds? Ah, you mean with bets.” She popped another chunk of bread into her mouth.
He smiled as he watched her eat. He didn’t think she realized she’d started into his bread. “One of my great-great something grandfathers fought for the Confederacy in the Civil War. After the war ended, he became a professional gambler and worked the riverboats up and down the Mississippi. Taking risks is in my blood.”