Pregnant and Protected Page 9

  “I’m trying to be more independent right now, not less. I hated having Corinne come over the other night. I felt so weak, the way she fussed over me as if I was sick.”

  “Her reaction was a little over the top.”

  “She means well. Our friendship has had its ups and downs, but we’ve known each other a long time.” Since junior high, when they’d both had braces on their teeth at the same time, and they’d hated it.

  “Did you two spend the whole evening together?”

  “Well, we ate, watched a—” She stopped, understanding what he meant. “If you’re suggesting that Corinne went through my filing cabinet…!”

  “Who went to bed first?”

  “I did. I’m pregnant, remember? My batteries cut out at around nine o’clock. But, Daniel—”

  “Who has been here since?”

  “Dad came home with me Sunday night. Some friends of mine, Patrick and Catrina Callahan, dropped in to return some videos they’d borrowed. I have a cleaner who comes Mondays, but she’s— No! Bridget O’Meara? She’s a fifty-seven-year-old Irish widow!”

  “Those are your choices, Lauren. Unless you have a smashed window or a broken lock you haven’t noticed or told me about yet.”

  “I’ve been checking every door and window the moment I get in the house.”

  “Good!”

  “I hate this!”

  “You’ve mentioned that.”

  “Wouldn’t you hate it?”

  “Yes, but I’d try to react rationally, not emotionally.”

  She gave him an arctic glare, but he only smiled a little. “Keep fighting. That’s good.”

  Ignoring him, she said, “Okay, rationally, I’ve realized there was someone else came in here on Monday, when I was at work. I had a new desk chair delivered.” She touched a hand to her back, which was troubling her more as the baby grew. The new chair was supposed to help. “The guy was here for a while, Bridget said, unpacking it and adjusting it. She’s an unstoppable force once she starts cleaning, and she just went on with her vacuuming. She might not have taken much notice of what he was doing. If you can fit a theory around that, I’d be happy to hear it!”

  “It’s a possibility,” he agreed. “After we’ve eaten, you’d better check to see if anything’s actually missing. And here’s another point. Bridget has her own key, right?”

  “Hard for her to get in otherwise, since I’m mostly not here.”

  “You’d better remind her to make sure she never leaves it lying around. I’ll see that the locks are changed tomorrow.”

  She nodded, chewing on her lip, then went to set plates on the breakfast table in a corner of the spacious kitchen. She also found a cloth, linen napkins, silver napkin rings and crystal tumblers for the sparkling mineral water her dry mouth craved. She didn’t notice the way Daniel was watching her until she’d set it all out.

  “You must have really hated my place last night,” he said.

  “It makes such a difference for only a little effort,” she claimed, her mouth set as neat as a closed purse. Then she collapsed into the nearest chair and ground her forehead into the heel of her hand. “If you want the truth, turning into Martha Stewart’s more perfect cousin is what I do when I think I’m losing control.”

  “If you want the truth,” he answered her gently, “I’d already figured that out.”

  “Oh.”

  Their eyes met, and a smile wandered around his mouth for a moment. It drew a response against her will—a goofy, fuzzy sort of grin. It was…kind of nice…to have a man figure her out. In more than a year, Ben never had.

  Then he shrugged. “Sorry. It can be a fairly common response when someone’s had threats.”

  “Oh, I do so love being consigned to a stereotype!”

  “The sarcasm, on the other hand, is quite unique.” His eyes teased her even more than his words. She wanted to find some anger, but couldn’t. “Keep it up, if it makes you feel stronger,” he said. “And you’re right, of course. Control is important.”

  “Sometimes I think control is killing me,” she confessed, feeling very raw beneath his gaze. “When I manage to let go, it feels so much better. I liked your home, Daniel. I liked the bits of it that were out of control.”

  “So how about you give a share of your unwanted control to me, and then you’ll still have something left over—some energy and some feelings—to give your baby when it’s born.”

  The microwave pinged. The aroma of the steak in the skillet reached her nostrils and her mouth filled with watery anticipation. She felt weak with a hunger that was relentless at the moment. The baby was growing fast and needed the calories.

  He’s right, I can’t fight this on my own.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “Okay, you win. We’ll do this protection thing however you think it has to be done, as long as we stick to one rule.”

  “What’s that?”

  “When I want the bodyguards to wait outside, that’s what they do.”

  “That’s acceptable,” he answered. “And you’ve made the right decision. I’m glad.”

  She couldn’t help noticing that he looked anything but.

  “I am never going to get used to this,” Lauren declared.

  Her heels clacked on the floor of the corridor outside the Van Shuyler Corporation’s executive conference room, sending pain shooting through her at every step. Her feet hurt. Her head hurt. Her back hurt. Image or no image, she wasn’t going to wear these shoes again until after she had the baby!

  It was a Friday evening, just ten days before Christmas. The meeting had ended late. She had a business dinner starting in an hour and fifteen minutes, and she had Daniel, still skulking around the building like…like…well, like the man who had been hired to protect her and who was going to do his job if it killed him.

  He wore one of his usual dark suits, an outfit nowhere near tame enough to detract from the raw masculinity of the body beneath. His shirt would split its seams if he threw a single punch. His back muscles would ripple like an ocean swell if he had to pull off the suit jacket to get physical.

  But he looked as if he really, really didn’t want to be here right now. He was grabbing a surreptitious glance at his watch, and pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger. She knew the gesture by now.

  Not in a mood to waste words, she asked him, “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m not supposed to be here still. Lisa was supposed to replace me at five, but she got held up at another job, where there was some trouble.”

  “Wasn’t there anyone else?”

  “You know I’m pretty picky about who I have working this detail.”

  “You mean I’m pretty picky. Spill it, Daniel. Where is it you need to be?”

  Was it a meeting of his own? Or was he going to his mother’s house to pick up his boys? Yes, it was his boys. She could tell by his face.

  “I’m supposed to be taking Jesse and Corey for a drive to look at Christmas lights tonight,” he said, confirming the way she’d read him. He hunched his shoulders and pushed his hands down into the pockets of his pants. “I promised them. I mean, at two years old, I could distract them, or whatever. They’d forget.” He laughed suddenly. “Heck, I bought their own Christmas presents right in front of them last weekend, and they never even realized!”

  “Really?” Could that be true? She wished she knew more about two-year-olds. Adorable two-year-olds like Daniel’s sons.

  “Yeah, it was very cute,” he said. “But I don’t want to set a precedent for cheating them like that. Mom’s been telling them all day about seeing the lights tonight. I hate it when this happens! At times like this, being on your own is the pits!”

  “Your mother—”

  “Just called on my cell phone to remind me she’s going out of town this weekend to see my sister in Virginia. She makes that drive a lot, but she doesn’t like doing it too late.”

  “I’m sorry, Daniel. You could have just left.”

  He
didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. It was three weeks since he’d intensified the level of his protection. She knew him well enough by now to know that he’d need a bigger emergency than Christmas lights to skimp on this job.

  “We’ll pick them up now,” she suggested. “Then your mother can get away for her weekend. We’ll fit in the lights before my dinner. You can drop me at the restaurant afterward, make sure it’s okay, and then you’ve got a couple of hours to arrange for someone else to take me home.”

  “But you wanted to get home and change.”

  He knew this because it was on the schedule. She hated the schedule.

  “I’m fine.” Who needed functioning feet, anyway? The blisters would heal.

  He looked at her, shoulders still hunched, frown still dark. Her fingers itched, suddenly, to smooth the frown away, to linger, explore, caress.

  “Please don’t argue,” she said, and there was enough in her tone to convince him.

  “Okay. Yeah, it works, doesn’t it? Mom’s already fed them. She has some streets by her place where people do a great job with their lights.”

  He was striding in the direction of the elevator as he spoke. She kept up with him, blisters, head, back and heavy belly all protesting.

  “It won’t take long,” he said. “Maybe there’ll even be time for you to—”

  “I don’t need to change.” As long as this black-and-white dress didn’t look as limp as it felt. Well, if she didn’t have access to a mirror, she wouldn’t know, would she?

  Lauren hadn’t looked at Christmas lights for years. She’d forgotten how magical it could be. The night was clear and cold, but the heating in Daniel’s car wrapped her aching legs in warmth. Daniel had stopped at a gourmet food store a few minutes earlier. In the backseat, the boys had the crumbled remains of fresh-baked Christmas cookies squashed into their fists, and smears of sweet stuff around their mouths. The air in the car smelled of butter and cinnamon.

  Daniel cruised slowly up and down the streets, saying, “Wow! Look at that house, guys! Do you see the sleigh? And the elves?”

  The boys began to say, “Wow!” at frequent intervals, too, and laughed in excitement.

  Lauren was tentative about her own input at first. She was here by accident. She didn’t belong. But then Daniel took a break from pointing out Santas and Christmas trees and angels, and told her quietly, “Nice that it happened like this. It’s good to have two people in the front seat. And Mom was able to get away just a little later than planned. Thanks, Lauren.”

  “That’s…fine, Daniel.”

  She had to struggle to hide the sudden thickness in her voice. It had been nice to see Mrs. Lachlan again, and they’d exchanged a warm hug. Her pregnancy was making her emotional these days. She was glad it was dark in the car. Looking across at Daniel, she found he was focused once more on the street. She took the opportunity to watch him, feeling greedy about it. A little guilty, too, and hungry for the right to touch him, to feel as if she belonged.

  Not in his life. She was heavy with another man’s child, and she still didn’t know what that was going to do to her future. But in his arms, oh, she definitely wanted to belong in his arms, even if it didn’t last.

  The dim reach of the streetlights chased shadows over his face. He had one hand positioned, very relaxed, on the top of the steering wheel while he pointed again. “Look, guys! Look at that great tree!”

  He was as alert in showing his kids the best lights as he was in watching for threats to Lauren’s safety, and she had begun to respond to this quality in him more strongly as each day passed. If she ever needed a man to lean on, Daniel wouldn’t let her down.

  It was tempting…so tempting…until her spirit rebelled.

  I need to handle this on my own.

  As a distraction, she asked him, “What are your Christmases like, Daniel?”

  “Big!” He grinned. “Mom likes to put on the full show, plus all the extras, like what we’re doing tonight.”

  “What we’re doing tonight is nice.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “I used to shrug it off a little, but since the boys were born, I’ve realized that this stuff is what knits it all together. Your outlook changes when you have kids.”

  “I guess.”

  “What about you?”

  “I guess my outlook will change. I mean, that’s what everyone says. I’m trying to have everything in place, you know, to minimize the shock. Or whatever it is. I’m scared of it.”

  “Hey, don’t be. And I actually didn’t mean your outlook, I meant how are your Christmases?”

  “Oh. Right.” She nodded. “They’re quiet. Now. My mom was like yours, though. She loved every detail.”

  “You miss it?”

  “Well, you know, it’s a big effort, and—” She stopped. Took a breath. “Yes. I miss it.”

  The boys had gotten quiet, and her business dinner was due to start in twenty minutes. He gave that quick, alert glance at his watch that she was starting to know. She had the feeling he had a built-in clock and that the expensive Swiss watch served only as confirmation of something he had down to the minute already.

  She said it for him. “We’ll have to head to the restaurant.”

  “I’ve got this image of hot chocolate in my mind,” he answered. “Someplace where we could take the boys and not get frowned at when they spill things. But, yeah, there’s no time.”

  “No. Unfortunately.”

  Pulling up in front of the restaurant fifteen minutes later, he sprang out to open the door for her, while she was still struggling to sit up higher in her seat. He always did that. No fuss or flourish about it. He was just there, and so was his hand, ready to take hers and heave. Increasingly, as she got heavier, the heave was good.

  Tonight, his breath misted in the cold air and the warmth of his body was like a magnet, drawing her to him.

  “Don’t come in,” she said. “It’s two steps to the front door. I’m fine.”

  “I’ll watch.” His tone changed as he looked down at her. “I wish we could have had that hot chocolate.”

  “So do I.”

  Her breath caught a little. A kiss hung in the air between them like a pattern of snow crystals. Fragile, beautiful, ready to evaporate in a moment. He was watching her mouth, thinking about it, too. His eyes were easy to read, soft and slow-burning. The lean of his body closed the distance between them by another few inches, then her pregnancy bumped against him through her dark coat, a barrier that was as much emotional as physical.

  They couldn’t do this.

  “There’ll be someone waiting for you when dinner’s over,” he said. “Charlie, maybe. Or Alex. You know both of them. They’ll let you know when they arrive, then wait somewhere discreet. You’ll see me on Monday.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Thanks for being so good about the lights.”

  “No, I’m thanking you about the lights.”

  He smiled, and she did what she had to do—slipped past him as he stepped back, and went into the restaurant.

  “You know, I actually am starting to get used to it after all,” Lauren told Daniel just over a week later, on Christmas Eve. “I thought I never would.”

  “People do,” he answered, grinning down at her. His dark eyes were warm, and creased at the corners.

  Wanting to earn more of that relaxed, cheerful look, she added, “Although I could do without the guy with the missing front teeth.”

  “That’s a bit unfair. He lost them gallantly in the line of duty, you know.”

  “Well, really it’s not the teeth, it’s the breath.”

  “Are you feeding him garlic sandwiches?”

  “And the laugh.”

  “Don’t tell him jokes. Seriously…” neither of them was being particularly serious “…he’s a good man, but if you like I can rotate him to another assignment.”

  “No, don’t,” she answered. “You’re right. Charlie’s nice. I’m being unfair. And Bill is great, and total
ly focused.”

  Lauren gestured through an ice-encrusted window to where a uniformed bodyguard leaned against his car in the weak December sunlight. His shoulders were hunched and he looked cold, but he didn’t take his eyes off the stream of cars entering the parking lot adjacent to Daniel’s church.

  “Yeah,” Daniel agreed. “He’s the best.”

  “Mmm.”

  Lauren didn’t want to admit that, increasingly, the only bodyguard she actively enjoyed having around was Daniel himself. And that was for all the wrong reasons. Like those big grins he’d just given her. The threat to her safety had not escalated any further over the past few weeks, but neither had it disappeared. Just when she was starting to relax, another letter would arrive through the company mailroom, although there had been no more damage to her property.

  Nominally, the police were still working on the case, but she suspected that Daniel’s security detail was having a negative effect on their enthusiasm. Since she was well-protected, more urgent or serious cases repeatedly bumped this particular investigation back to the bottom of their file tray.

  Unfortunately, Daniel’s job was simply to protect her, not to investigate where the threat was coming from. She could tell that his mind was quietly engaged on the problem, as he’d asked her several cryptic questions, but like the police, he had other things to deal with.

  She couldn’t, in all fairness, have asked for more. He already covered this assignment whenever he could, and she was sure that he was skimping on his executive role at Lachlan Security Systems right now, purely for her sake. Or rather, her father’s. Inherited from his own father, Daniel’s sense of honor and duty was very well developed.

  Like her own, his faith was quiet and sincere, as well. This was her fourth visit to his church. Lauren knew Daniel had been surprised when she’d first told him she planned to attend, and even more surprised that she’d continued to come each week. It wasn’t just the initial question of security that he’d raised with regard to her own church. She’d found that she liked the warm and welcoming atmosphere of Daniel’s church better than the rather stuffy and formal congregation downtown which she’d belonged to for many years.

  This morning, she had volunteered for nursery duty, and Daniel had brought his boys. They were already on the floor, playing with trucks along with several other children. The spacious room was bright with Christmas decorations. There was a Nativity scene set up in one corner, and after the morning service, a party was scheduled to take place here, complete with carol singing and a visit from Santa.