Monday's Child (2 page)

Wilcox smiled as he parked outside the chalet. “Good. I’ll take you over and introduce you.”

Luke stifled a yawn. “Do I have time for a shower first, sir?”

“Of course.”

Luke followed him inside and carried his hand luggage though the minuscule apartment to the bathroom. He could fit the whole place into his living room.

Knowing from past experience warm water would just make him more tired, Luke jumped into a freezing cold shower. The additional assignment made no sense to his sleep deprived brain no matter which way he looked at it.
Lord, I trust You have a reason for this change in the workload. Show me what it is and work it for the best outcome for all concerned. Be with this woman I am meant to protect and help me to do my job to the best of my ability.

****

Sara pushed away her plate, feeling sick again. She laid a hand on her swelling stomach. “Another meal bites the dust. Maybe one day I’ll manage to eat something you like, podling.”

She let out a shuddering breath. The nickname she gave her unborn child didn’t sound silly anymore. The hospital ran a routine pregnancy test before her first surgery, and the nurse had bustled over and waved a clipboard at her. “Sign this consent. We got the results, and we’re taking you to surgery, anyway.” Obviously they’d expected her to lose the baby. She hadn’t. Jamie’s child had survived the shooting, the three subsequent surgeries and the grief filling her. She was now five months pregnant with a honeymoon baby, who would never know his father.

She rose, threw the sandwich into the bin, and then washed the plate. Picking up her coffee she smiled and leaned against the counter. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t drink coffee if someone paid her, but again, these were hardly—

A sharp knock on the door interrupted her train of thought, and she went to answer it, coffee in hand. “Good afternoon, Inspector Wilcox.”

To her annoyance, Wilcox and the man with him came in uninvited. He shut the door and looked straight at her. “Sara, I’d like you to meet Lieutenant Luke Nemec. Lieutenant Nemec will be your new protection officer. Lieutenant, this is Mrs. Sara Barnes. Sara, things have to change. Lieutenant Nemec is moving in here with you. The cover story is that you are man and wife. You’ll take his name. The papers are being done now.”

Luke smiled at her and offered his hand.

Sara ignored it, staring aghast at Wilcox, shock resonating through her, and not just at his abrupt tone. Was there something wrong with her hearing? There was no rank of
loo
tenant in the English police force, for one thing. Or leftenant come to that. For another, he didn’t look like a soldier, and—wait a minute, did he say
marriage
? “I’m sorry?”

“Lieutenant Nemec will be with you on a full-time basis. As far as the world is concerned, you’ll be his wife. First name terms only.”

Furious, Sara shook her head. Her eyes narrowed and her lips set. “Oh, no. There is absolutely no way, either in this lifetime or the next, that—”

“Sara—”

“Don’t you Sara me. I am not going to live with anyone, Inspector. Especially someone I’ve only just met. And I am definitely
not
marrying him.” She glanced at Luke, deliberately pronouncing his title the English way. “No offence, Leftenant Nemec.”

Luke slid his hands into his pockets. “None taken, but my name is Luke. If it helps any, I was just told myself.”

Taken aback by his accent, Sara did a double take. “You’re American.”

“And you’re British.” He tilted his head, flashing his teeth in a broad smile.

Sara scrutinized the American cop. He was everything Jamie wasn’t. He was taller, at least six feet. His shock of pale brown hair stood upright in places, almost spiked, and he could do with a shave. He had at least a day’s growth there. Not that this look was bad, but it was definitely different and rather unprofessional.

Running her gaze over his taut figure, Sara took in the way his shirt hugged his broad chest. His body tapered in at the waist and out at the hips. She raised her eyes back to his face. He was eyeing her the same way. Her gaze met his blue, fathomless one. He was taking Jamie’s place as her protector. This whole marriage thing turned her stomach. She’d lost her husband, their home, and now his name. How much more could she take?
Lord, if this is Your idea of a joke, it’s a pretty poor one.

Sara turned back to Wilcox. “I’m not
marrying
anyone.”

“This marriage is in name only and just on paper. You won’t need an annulment or a divorce when this is over. But I am going to have to insist on the first name terms—at least in public.”

Sara huffed and wrapped a protective arm across her stomach. No way was she calling Leftenant Nemec by his first name. Ever. “The spare bedroom is that way, Leftenant. I’m going for a walk.”

Luke hefted his bags. “Give me two minutes, and I’ll come with you, Sara.”

She tapped her watch. “That’s one minute and fifty-five seconds, Leftenant, and counting.”

****

Sliding the chalet door shut behind her, Sara locked and double-checked it. Her new cop had been exactly one minute and fifteen seconds—prompter than the previous one. Which was a plus.

The sea beyond the cliff tops glistened in the winter sunlight as she slid the key into her fleece pocket and zipped it shut. She glanced at the leftenant as he pulled shades from his pocket and put them on. Her heart pounded as his good looks and smile seared into her. Sara shook her head. Jamie had only been dead a few months. She had no right to think that way, and she wouldn’t cheat on Jamie’s memory by eyeing up some other man. She stiffened her shoulders and walked faster. “It’s November, and the sun sets soon. Won’t shades be a tad useless in the dark?”

Luke raised an eyebrow at her. “Not at all.”

She shook her head, veering past the chalets and onto the huge playing field. In the summer, the sights and sounds of the children playing usually thrilled her, but not this year. It was hard to be happy when her husband had been murdered right before her very eyes, and she had to go into hiding until the murderer was caught.

Now it was autumn and the children had long gone. The forlorn cry of the seagulls soaring above her, and the soft footfalls of her escort filled the air. Sara took a deep breath. “I can almost taste the salt from the sea.”

“You love it here, don’t you?”

Sara sighed and kicked at the sand, lifting her face to the sky and the breeze. “Aunt Mary brought me here every year when I was a kid. It’s nice to be back, even if slightly ironic. Of all the safe houses in the country, they pick this holiday park. I just wish the circumstances were different.”

“I can’t blame you for that.”

This was her fourth month in protective custody, and she was tired of all the agents on duty. “How much longer will I be stuck here? What if they never catch Austin?”

“We will.” The confidence in his voice gave her the first glimmer of hope in a long time.

Sara took the steep path down the dunes on the East Anglian coast of England. She crossed the valley floor, with its harsh grassland and windswept bushes nestled between the two sets of dunes. She tried not to let things get her down, but some days it was two steps forward and one step back. But with the leftenant’s confidence, maybe today she could take three forward and one back. That would be progress, right?

Her leg ached. “It’s going to rain later.”

He glanced skyward, then at her. “How do you know?”

“My leg is a pretty good barometer.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Aches when it rains or when it’s going to rain, but other than that, the scar is the only sign of what happened. I lost the crutches three months ago.”

Why hadn’t the shooter fired again and shot her in the heart when he had the chance? He’d hit her in the leg, shattering the bone, then he’d stared down at her and smiled with an evil twist of his lips. Then he’d walked away. When would he come back for her? Before the trial? At the trial? Of course there’d never be a trial if they never caught him.

The wind picked up strength as she got nearer the sea. The dune in front of her rose sharply, but she made short work of the exhilarating climb, enjoying her freedom.

Luke’s voice shattered what little peace she found. “We should head back, Sara. It’ll be dark soon.”

She glanced at him, hating the way her name sounded so good coming from his foreign tongue.
And they thought only British blokes had cute accents.
“We’ve only just got here. I’ve been stuck inside all day. Half an hour, I promise.”

“Sara…”

“Leftenant, there’s no one for miles. It’s you, me, your radio and several other officers within screaming distance. What could possibly happen? Unless that huge seagull up there is carrying a rifle and has me in its sights?”

Luke’s shades hid his expression, so she had no idea whether he meant the sarcasm in his voice or not. “Maybe it has, and it couldn’t miss you in that red coat you’re wearing. Very well. Half an hour, no longer.”

The wind gusted, taking her breath away and whipping her long brown hair into her face. Jamie liked it long. Those few nights they were married, he’d brush and plait it for her. As much as she hated waiting seven hours for it to dry, she couldn’t chop it off and lose another memory. Not yet, not unless she didn’t have a choice.

Jamie would have loved it here at Winterton. He’d have chased her across the sand, trying to throw her into the water the way he did at Bournemouth on the day he proposed.

Sara closed her eyes and twisted her head around in a circle, trying to relieve the tension in her aching shoulders as she brushed away the tears. It didn’t matter what she did, every single thing reminded her of Jamie.

“Are you all right, Sara? Do you need a hand?” Luke offered his assistance as she turned to climb a steep, but low hill covered with loose sand.

“I can manage, thank you. I’ve done this almost every day for the last few months.” She ignored him as she climbed the sand dune and headed down the beach to the sea.

“Don’t go in the water,” said the low warning voice behind her.

She shivered at his deep baritone and rolled her eyes. “Like I’d go and get my clothes wet in November.”

“I don’t want to have to jump in there after you.”

“Can’t you swim?” If it were August, she’d wade in up to her waist with the sole purpose of annoying him. Did he really think she’d drown herself? “Or is it too cold for you?”

“It’s too cold for either of us, but I can swim with the best of them. Dad insists I could swim before I could walk.”

Sara smiled slightly. “Cute.” The view ahead appealed to her artist’s eye as she took in the pale blue and grey of the sky and sea. The sun was beginning to set, casting pinks and oranges over the low, threatening clouds.

“Wow. Look at that sky.” Pulling out her camera, Sara took several sets of photographs. The sun set fast at this time of year, each passing moment giving a different aspect to the hue on the horizon.

She’d come down with her oils at some point. The scenery had ‘paint me’ written all over it. The height of the dunes and the golden sand, set against the deep blues, greens and greys of the sea, would make for a wonderful landscape painting. Sunrise or sunset would be the best time.

Neither time would sit well with the leftenant, but he could sit and watch and keep out of her hair. She wasn’t the criminal, and she was sick and tired of being treated like one.

Sara kept shooting until the sun disappeared below the waves, and a discreet cough sounded from behind her.

“I’m coming.” Sara shoved the camera into her pocket. As much as she wanted to stay out late tonight, she didn’t have the energy to argue. Cops always had an answer for everything and got their own way to boot.

She was stubborn, but even she could learn a thing or three from the protection officers on the art of being immovable. In fact, stubborn wasn’t the only word to describe them. There were several alternatives, including inflexible, bolshie, and boring.

She stifled a laugh. The leftenant wouldn’t appreciate any of them, or the joke being about him. Sara glanced at his set jaw. “Are we going shopping in the morning? Constable Lomas was originally taking me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine, I’ll give you a list of the lingerie I need, and you can go buy it. I like it lacy, preferably white, and I dislike red and black.” She didn’t quite grasp the meaning of the expression that crossed his face, but maybe he was merely reacting to her baiting him. He seemed different than the other officers somehow and a small surge of guilt filled her. Was it possible he didn’t like the ‘marriage’ idea, either?

“I’ll check with the people in charge here and with my boss in the States. I need to see if any progress has been made with the case, but as I have orders to move in with you, I assume Austin is at large. So I doubt they’ll want you out and about.” His tone left her in no doubt as to how serious he took his job.

Sara pressed a hand into the small of her back, rubbing it. She’d be doing that a lot more soon. Not just because she’d spent the day on her feet cleaning the chalet, and the evening walking over the dunes on the beach. “I haven’t been able to get to the gym because of my leg. Never mind the fact there isn’t a gym within ten miles of here, and I’m not allowed to breathe without permission. Now my leg’s healed, I need to buy new clothes.”

“What’s wrong with the ones you have? You look fine to me.”

“I’m gaining weight because I’m not exercising.” She paused, thrown by his compliment. Should she tell him the truth? No, she needed at least one piece of her marriage left, at least for a little bit longer. “I could go alone.”

“You will not. I’ll talk to Detective Inspector Wilcox and let you know what he says.” The reply was instant, short and sharp. She wouldn’t have expected anything less.

They reached the door of the chalet. Luke insisted on going in first. Sara shook her head at him then followed, shutting the door. She bent to turn on the small heater before tossing her fleece jacket onto the chair. She really didn’t want to cook for two, but she was hungry and wasn’t about to let the officer starve or eat in front of him.