- Home
- Margaret Watson
FOR THE CHILDREN Page 15
FOR THE CHILDREN Read online
Page 15
"I can't wait, Abby," he whispered, taking her earlobe in his teeth. "I want you too much."
Wrapping her legs around him, pulsing with desire for him, she tried to pull him closer. "I don't want you to wait. I can't wait, either." When she reached down and cupped him in her hand, he groaned and surged into her.
A convulsion shook her immediately. Biting his shoulder to keep from crying out, she bucked against him, feeling him drive even more deeply inside her. He called her name, his voice hoarse, as he lunged again and again and poured himself into her.
They lay twined together for a long time. Abby didn't want to move. His weight pressed her into the mattress, and she gloried in it. She felt his heart gradually slow against her chest, and his ragged breathing smooth out. After a long time he raised his head.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
She pushed a lock of his hair out of his face. "For what?"
"I wanted to go slow, be gentle. Instead, I took you like a rutting animal. I didn't give you everything you deserve."
"You gave me exactly what I wanted. Isn't that more important?"
He eased himself away and rolled over, pulling her next to him. "I also didn't use any protection."
The thought of the possible consequences made her freeze in shock for a moment. Then she hastened to reassure him. "I think this was a safe time of the month. We probably don't have anything to worry about."
"We have plenty to worry about. I don't believe how stupidly careless I was." His voice was grim, even though he continued to hang on to her.
"What are you worried about? That I'll get pregnant?" She was shocked at how little the idea bothered her.
"Yes. That's what I'm worried about." His voice was harsh, and he sat up. "Damn, I can't believe I did that."
"There were two of us in that bed," she reminded him, sitting up slowly, a sick feeling in her stomach.
"And one of us should have been thinking." He stood up and pulled on his jeans. "I've never, ever taken that kind of chance before. Never."
She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling too exposed, and reached for one of his shirts that hung over the end of the bed. "Neither have I, Damien," she whispered. She wouldn't tell him why. She couldn't. Not when he stood looking down at her, such horror in his eyes over what might have happened. The words shriveled and died on her lips as she pulled the shirt on, buttoning it hastily.
"You'll let me know…" He stopped in the middle of his sentence and spun around, staring in the direction of the door.
Abby slowly stood up, instinctively moving closer to him. "What's wrong?"
Then she heard it, too. One of the twins was sobbing softly in the other room.
She ran into the room and knelt beside the bed where both girls slept. Maggie was clutching her white blanket to her chest, and tears trickled out of her eyes.
"What is it, honey?" Abby scooped the child into her arms and rocked her back and forth. "What's wrong?"
Maggie slowly opened her eyes and stared up at her aunt. The tears continued in a steady stream down her face.
"Do you want me to hold you?" Damien asked Maggie.
Suddenly Abby was aware of him standing next to her, smoothing Maggie's hair back from her face. To her surprise, Maggie nodded.
The little girl curled her arms around Damien's neck and buried her head against his shoulder. As Damien wrapped his arms around her, his face filled with tender concern. "You can tell me about it if you want to," he said.
Maggie sobbed for a few more minutes and Damien rocked her, murmuring soothing words into her ear. Gradually her crying stopped, and then she began to speak. Abby couldn't bear what Maggie said, but she saw Damien tighten his hold on her.
Suddenly she stopped talking and Abby saw her body relax in Damien's arms. He held her for a while longer, then gently laid her down on the bed and pulled the quilt over her.
Abby followed him out of the room. "She had another nightmare," he said, his voice low in the darkness of the cabin. "It sounded like the same as the last one. A man was lying on the ground and her white blanket got some red on it. And she was scared."
"She saw the murder, didn't she?" Abby turned and looked back at the room where the two girls slept.
"It sounds like she did." Damien's voice was without expression.
"You'll have to ask them about it."
"Yes, I will. But not tonight, Abby." He reached out and touched her, and the heat came flooding back. His chest was bare. He'd pulled on jeans, but he hadn't buttoned them. When she moved closer to him, she realized that her scent was trapped in the hair on his chest.
She swayed closer to him, her eyes fluttering closed, need for him filling her again. His hand tightened on her arm, then he stepped back. "Don't, Abby."
She slowly opened her eyes. "What?"
"This should never have happened." He waved his hand toward her room and looked at her with a grim expression on his face. "I could have gotten all of us killed."
Suddenly she felt exposed and terribly vulnerable. Even though Damien's shirt covered her to her knees, she felt naked. "You weren't alone, you know."
"I should have known better. It's bad enough that I forgot my job and got involved with someone I'm supposed to be guarding. But to let it happen when there's a possibility of an ambush is inexcusable."
His harsh words hit her like a fistful of tiny arrows, and she slowly straightened. "Is that what this was, a spur-of-the-moment fling?"
"I sure as hell didn't plan on making love with you." His gaze lowered to the piles of clothes scattered on the floor from the living room to the bedroom. Then, avoiding her eyes, he stared out the window into the darkness surrounding the cabin.
"Was it so wrong?" she said softly. For a moment she didn't think he'd heard her, then he turned around to look at her.
"Hell, yes, it was wrong. I told you, Abby, that my job is to protect you and the twins. I can't do that if I'm not paying attention every minute. And I can tell you for a fact that while we were on that bed I wasn't paying attention to anything but you."
Gathering her courage, bracing herself for the rejection she was sure was coming, she said, "What if you didn't have to worry about protecting me and the girls? Would it be so wrong then?"
He stared at her for a long time. His face was in the shadows, and she couldn't see the expression in his eyes. Finally he said flatly, "Yes, it would be. You're too innocent, too giving. Too nice. You don't need a person like me in your life. You need someone who can give you everything you deserve."
Taking a deep breath, she said, "And why isn't that person you?"
"I don't have anything to give you, Abby. Nothing at all. The only thing that matters to me is my job, and that's not going to be a hell of a lot of comfort to you on a cold night." The hard words fell between them, pitiless and final.
"I think you have a lot to give, if you'd only let yourself." Abby stood up and started to go to him, but stopped when he backed up.
"That's because you're a dreamer," he said harshly. "You won't believe anything bad about anyone. But there are no soft spots in my soul, Abby. There's nothing there to save."
"I think you're wrong." Her voice was soft and yearning in the dim light, but she didn't move toward him. He paced the kitchen restlessly, staring out the windows and testing the lock on the door. Every movement spoke of his guilt at his perceived failure to be on guard. He wasn't in the mood to be convinced of anything.
He stopped in front of the kitchen window, staring out into the night at the mountains. Abruptly he said, "We're leaving first thing in the morning."
Apprehension fluttered inside her. "Why are we leaving? Where else can we go?"
He turned to face her. "We're going into the town of Cameron. Obviously the men who are after the twins know where we are. I don't know how the hell they figured it out, but they know. This cabin was safe only as long as no one knew where we were. Now that they know, it's a liability. We're trapped up here, at the
mercy of whoever wants to come after us. All they have to do is pick their time."
"So why are we waiting until the morning?"
"I want to check the car and the truck, and I need daylight for that." His mouth tightened. "I want to make sure no one planted a transmitter in Devlin's Bronco while we were in town. They traced us somehow, and I'm going to figure it out before we move. And I want to make sure no one follows us."
The offhand way he talked about transmitters and being followed made her shiver. Wrapping her arms around herself, she watched him check all the doors and windows one more time. She did the same thing every night at her own home. Then it was just routine. She wasn't thinking about protecting herself against someone who wanted to harm her. Staring at him, truly frightened, she said the first thing that came to her mind.
"The girls are going to be disappointed. They were counting on more swimming lessons."
He stopped and looked over at her. "We'll figure out something to explain to them."
Abby ran her hands down the sides of Damien's shirt, wiping the perspiration off her palms. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing for me to say. You have enough other things to worry about."
At her words his eyes softened. "When people are under stress, they worry about odd things. Besides, swimming lessons for the twins are important. They need to know how to survive in the water."
"It's more important that they survive, period," she said grimly. "I'll try not to forget that."
He moved closer to her. "It'll be all right, Abby. We'll have help in town. Devlin and his deputies will be looking out for us, and watching for strangers. We'll be safer there."
She wanted to throw herself into his arms and let his strength surround her. For the first time she wanted to let someone else be strong and do the protecting. Shaken by the realization, she backed up. "It sounds like we'll have to be up early in the morning. I guess we'd better get to bed."
It was the wrong thing to say. His eyes darkened and smoldered, then he turned away. "Go ahead," he said, his voice expressionless. "I'm going to do a little more checking."
She watched his rigid back for a moment, then turned and went into her room without another word, closing the door softly behind her.
Damien stood motionless in the kitchen, listening to the sounds of Abby preparing for bed. Even through the closed door he could identify almost every move she made. When he finally heard her slip between the sheets, he exhaled slowly and let his shoulders relax. Now, if he could just block the past hour out of his mind, he would be able to concentrate on the job he had to do.
But that was impossible. Whenever his mind wandered for even a moment, it conjured up the sight of her lying on top of him in the hushed silence of the cabin, or lying underneath him, holding him so tightly he could barely breathe. The dim light cast golden shadows over her smooth skin, and he longed to touch her again. Her face was flushed, alive with desire and something deeper he refused to even think about. When he closed his eyes to banish her image, he tasted her again, the giving sweetness of her mouth threatening to overwhelm him.
He prowled the house for a long time, almost wishing the goon from the theater would try something tonight. He ached for a fight, for the physical release it would bring.
And it would give him something to think about other than going to Cameron tomorrow. Because in a case filled with mistakes on his part, this was going to be one of the biggest. He should have known better than to bring Abby and the twins anywhere near Cameron, Utah.
It didn't matter that it had been a good idea at first. In the few days since he'd met her, he'd allowed Abby to become far too important to him. And he couldn't think of anything more painful than to take her to the house in Cameron.
But they were here, and his house was the safest place to stay. He'd always said that his job came first, before his personal feelings and needs. Now it was time to prove it.
* * *
When he emerged from his room in the darkness of early morning, he found Abby standing at the stove, a coffee cup in her hand. Turning around, she gave him a wan smile.
"I can't face the morning without a cup of coffee. Would you like one? I made plenty."
It would take a lot more than a cup of coffee to make this day bearable, he thought grimly. Aloud he said, "Thanks," and poured himself a cup.
"I got most of our things packed last night," she said too brightly. "It won't take me long to get the kitchen ready, then we can leave. You probably want to be on the road as soon as possible."
"As soon as I've checked the truck," he agreed, watching her. Her forced smile and chatter wouldn't fool him. He'd heard her up most of the night, moving restlessly from her room to the kitchen and back again. He'd heard her because he'd been awake himself.
Swallowing most of the scalding-hot coffee in one gulp, he laid his cup on the counter. "I'm going to check the truck, then I'll carry out the luggage. You go ahead and finish packing up the food."
"Fine," she said, giving him what she probably thought was a perky smile. "The suitcases are next to the door."
As if he hadn't heard every one of them packed, then moved out to the kitchen, he thought sourly. Without a word he picked up as many as he could carry and walked out into the stillness of early morning. The sky was beginning to lighten, and he could hear birds singing in the woods. Leaves rustled softly, and the sounds of animals stirring drifted to him on the breeze. Waves lapped at the shore in a steady rhythm, and he was surprised to realize that he would miss this cabin.
But it wasn't safe, and so they would leave. Shutting the door to the memories, he set the suitcases on the ground and began searching the truck. Ten minutes later he knew there was no transmitter on the truck that had revealed their location.
When he came back into the house, Abby had several bags lined up on the counter. "These are the groceries that Shea left here. Is it too early to stop and return them to her?"
Damien shook his head. "Ranch work starts early. We'll stop on the way to town. We have to return Devlin's truck and get my car back, anyway."
"Did you find anything on the truck?"
"Not a damn thing."
"What are you looking for?"
"A small piece of plastic. It works the way some car alarms do, by sending out a signal that another unit can pick up." He ran his hand through his hair and looked out the window. "I'll check the car when we get to Shea's house. I can't think of how else they would have found us."
"Would it have to be on the truck or the car?" she asked slowly.
"Not necessarily. It just has to be with us."
He watched her swallow once. "Could the person who broke into my house have left a transmitter somehow?"
Damien spun around, cursing himself. "Of course. Didn't the police say that some luggage had been disturbed?"
Abby nodded. "The girls' suitcases had been moved, but I didn't look at them because they were empty."
"Where are they?"
"You already took them out to the car."
Moments later he had the suitcases open on the kitchen table. It only took moments more to find the small plastic box hidden in a side pocket of one of the suitcases.
"No wonder they were here right after we were," he said grimly. "I led them right to us."
"You had no way of knowing that they'd hidden that." Abby nodded toward the innocent-looking box.
"I should have checked."
"It's all right. Damien," she said softly. "You can't anticipate everything."
"You're wrong, Abby. It's my job to do just that." His voice was flat. He picked up the transmitter and slid it into his pocket. "I'll take this with us to Cameron. I think Devlin would be willing to have one of his deputies drive it a few hours away. I'll have him leave it in a city, someplace where the men following us could think they might have lost us."
"All right. I'll get Maggie and Casey in the truck."
"They're heavy. I'll do it." He felt his muscles tense as he spoke. The feel
of Maggie's tiny body cuddled against his chest last night was imprinted on his soul. Turning quickly, he headed out the door before Abby could see how much the idea bothered him. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked to the truck and set the grocery bags next to the suitcases in the back.
When he walked back into the house, she said quietly, "I'll get the twins if you finish loading the bags. I've done it a million times before." She turned around and walked into the girls' room before he could answer.
He hadn't missed the flash of compassion in her eyes. His mouth tightening, he followed her into the room and watched as she scooped up the still-sleeping Maggie. As their eyes met in the dimly lit room, he saw surprise flicker in hers, followed by another surge of sympathy.
Ignoring her, he walked over to the lower bunk and looked down at Casey. She lay sprawled over the bed, her hair covering her face. Slowly he squatted next to the bunk and pulled her toward him.
She was even lighter than her sister. The clean, fresh, little-girl scent of her drifted up to him, making him close his eyes and try to block it out. Hoping the pounding of his heart wasn't loud enough to wake her, he held her lightly and hurried toward the car. Abby already had the door open and the chest piece raised on the car seat. He slipped her into her seat then backed away as Abby bent to fasten her in.
He was inside the house before Abby finished fiddling with the car seat He checked all the windows again and made sure all the blinds were closed, looking for something to erase the memory of the child he'd held in his arms. It had been three years since he'd held a child, but the pain hadn't diminished at all. If anything, it had gotten worse the past few days. Seeing Maggie and Casey, speculating on what his son would have been like had he lived, had torn at his heart Now the old wound was open again, ragged and bleeding and unspeakably painful.
"We're all set and ready to go."
Abby's voice spoke from the doorway, and he tightened his grip on the bags and turned around. "Go ahead and get in the truck. I'm checking the house one more time."
Instead of leaving, Abby looked around the small room. "I'm going to miss this cabin," she said softly. "We were only here a few days, but it feels like home." She looked at him steadily, then turned and walked out the door.