Название | Mommy Midwife |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Cassie Miles |
Жанр | Зарубежные детективы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежные детективы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
“You know,” she said, “my parents aren’t the kind of spies who do what you do. They don’t go on active missions.”
“Sure.” Somehow, he made that one terse word sound like he didn’t believe her.
“They work in embassies. My dad is a paper-pusher, and my mother is a cultural attaché. She hangs out with ballet dancers and artists. She arranges events.”
“Are you done packing?”
She’d already scooped all her bathroom toiletries and hair stuff into a plastic bag that was at the bottom of the suitcase. Tossing in a book from the nightstand, she gave him a nod. “That’s everything.”
“We’re taking my car,” he said.
She objected. “There’s nothing wrong with my car, and I’m going to need it when we’re in Denver.”
“If it becomes necessary to use evasive driving techniques, you’ll be glad I wrecked the rental instead of your car.”
A shudder went through her. “I hope that’s a joke.”
“I’m not laughing.” His eyebrows pinched in a scowl that made his dark eyes even more fierce and intense. “From now on, we do things my way. This is my job, Olivia. I know how to keep you safe. Don’t argue with me every step of the way.”
His macho take-charge attitude would have been irritating if the potential for danger hadn’t been so real. She reminded herself that there had been intruders in her garage, waiting to grab her. For a while, her independent nature was going to have to take a backseat. “I understand.”
“We’ll turn out all the lights,” he said. “I’ll go first. You follow with the suitcase. Take it around to the back of the SUV, and then get in the passenger side. Move as quickly as possible.”
“That’s not real fast.”
“If I tell you to get down, hit the dirt.”
She really hoped that maneuver wouldn’t be necessary. In spite of her pilates and yoga exercises, she was just about as graceful as a hippo when she had to get up and down off the floor.
After he’d turned off the lights, they stood inside by the front door for a moment, allowing their eyes to adjust to the dark. Troy moved to the edge of her front window and peered into the front yard.
She asked, “Do you see anything?”
“Visibility isn’t great. I could really use a pair of infrared goggles.” He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “There’s no telling what we’ll find around the corner of the garage. But you don’t need to worry. I’ll be in front. Ready?”
“I guess.”
He eased open the door. Immediately, they were moving through her moonlit yard. She followed him, pulling her suitcase, struggling to keep up as he rushed forward.
Her pulse thumped hard. Adrenaline raced through her system. At the driveway, she dragged the suitcase to the back of his SUV, went to the passenger seat and climbed in. Before she’d finished struggling with the seat belt, he had loaded her suitcase and was in the driver’s seat. He started the engine, whipped into Reverse and zipped away from her cabin.
A glance at the speedometer showed her that he was well over the recommended speed limit for this narrow, winding road, but she wasn’t scared. Troy had control of the vehicle. He was fast but safe.
She craned her neck to look over her shoulder. She didn’t see headlights behind them. “Are we safe?”
“I don’t see anyone.”
The narrow road straightened a bit as they drove past a beaver pond. It was less than a mile to a main intersection. “What happens if they catch up to us?”
“They won’t.” He negotiated the rugged road like a grand prix champion. “I think we made our escape fast enough that they didn’t have time to plan another assault. It’s a good thing that you noticed that missing photo.”
“And a really good thing that you were with me.”
He cranked the steering wheel, and the SUV swerved onto a paved road. There was no other traffic in sight.
Breathing hard, she flopped back against the seat. This definitely wasn’t the evening she’d expected after a long day at the hospital. In usual circumstances, she would have thrown together a salad with fresh veggies, had a cup of tea and relaxed. No doubt, her poor feet were swollen. Her sneakers felt as tight as rubber bands.
Absentmindedly, she stroked her tight belly. Inside her, the baby started to kick, possibly in reaction to the rush of adrenaline when she fled the cabin. “Wow, it feels like he’s jumping hurdles.”
“Who’s doing what?”
“The baby. He’s bouncing around.”
Troy kept his eyes on the road, but reached his hand toward her. “May I?”
She appreciated that he asked. So many people walked right up to her and began touching without permission. Gently, she took his hand and placed it over the place where the child—their child—was tap dancing.
Troy reacted, pulling his hand away. “That’s the baby?”
“Oh, yeah. I think he got excited by our escape. I don’t do a lot of running these days.”
“It doesn’t hurt him, does it? I mean, he’s okay, right?”
His concern erased his macho facade. Feeling the baby move had turned this big, bad marine into a cream puff. His reaction was actually kind of cute.
“The baby’s fine,” she assured him. “He’s always active. Sometimes, I think he’s got a ping-pong paddle in there.”
Troy replaced his hand on her belly. As he experienced more kicks, a wide grin spread across his face. “That’s my boy.”
She shared his pride. After all the time and effort she’d spent resisting Troy, she felt closer to him now than ever before. Strange. When they’d made love the first time, it had been because of a personal disaster. Now, it took another potential disaster to bring them together.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“We could continue on into Denver or stop at a hotel on the way. Your choice.”
“Hotel,” she said. “I’m too tired to face my parents tonight.”
“Lucky for us, I already have a suite booked in Keystone.”
“Why would you make reservations?”
“I needed a place to stay after you threw me out. Again.”
Was she really that mean? The answer, of course, was yes. She’d been pushing him away with both hands for eight and a half months, but she wasn’t going to apologize. She had her reasons. “Does this hotel have room service?”
“Count on it.” He gave her tummy a final pat and took his hand away. “Tonight, I’ll pamper you. This is a nice place, and you can have anything you want to eat.”
“Yay, I almost feel good about having my house broken into.”
“As soon as we get there, you need to call your parents and tell them what happened. The photo on the fridge was of all four of you. They might also be targets.”
She knew his analysis of the situation was correct. If someone was after her, the rest of her family could be in danger. Telling them would be difficult, nearly impossible. “Their work isn’t something we talk about. Not ever.”
When she and her sister were growing up, they knew their parents had contacts