Hank held the baby awkwardly in one arm as he pushed the cart down the aisle of the discount variety store. He didn’t like the way the baby felt in his arms, all sweet innocence and pure need.
He hadn’t wanted to take the baby along, but he hadn’t known how else to handle the situation. The baby was an unwanted complication and an ace in the hole for making Colette cooperate.
Standing in front of the display of diapers, he tried to ignore how her sweet breath warmed his neck, how her baby powder scent seemed to sweep him back to a time long ago. A time of hope, of dreams…all shattered in the blink of an eye.
He no longer had the energy to hope, and had lost all his ability to dream. He was a man with a cold heart, and no pretty brunette with big hazel eyes or dark-haired cherub babe would change that fact.
He grabbed a package of diapers he thought would fit and shoved all thoughts of that distant past behind. Moving on to the canned formula section, he concentrated on making a mental list of what other things they might need for a couple of days on the road.
As he threw a couple of baby sleepers into the basket, Brook continued to sleep in his arm, her long lashes feathering her chubby cheeks. He tried not to look at her, didn’t want to fall into the kind of love affair babies easily inspired in most people.
From the baby section, he moved to womens’ wear, knowing Colette had nothing but the clothes on her back. It was unfortunate their escape hadn’t been better planned. A packed suitcase of clothing and necessities would have been nice.
At least he had most of his own things. Knowing there might come a time when he’d have to leave the ranch fast, he’d kept his own clothes and personal items in the car.
He added a couple oversize T-shirts and several pairs of jogging pants to the items in his basket, then as an afterthought threw in an infant car seat and headed for the cashier.
“Oh, what a sweet baby doll,” the cashier exclaimed as she rang up Hank’s purchases. “How old is she?”
“Not even a month,” Hank answered. He looked down at Brook, surprised to see her not only awake, but her bright dark eyes peering up at him. As he stared at her, her tiny mouth turned up into a smile.
“Look at that, isn’t that precious. She’s smiling at you.” The cashier’s voice rose an octave and a headache blossomed in the center of Hank’s forehead.
“It’s probably gas,” he answered, wishing she’d hurry up.
“You must be such a proud papa,” she said.
Hank merely grunted. He paid for his purchases, then headed for his car, hoping Colette hadn’t gotten loose and done something stupid. He paused long enough to use a pay phone to call his superior and let him know where they were and what had transpired, then headed back to Colette.
Colette. As he drove back to the motel, taking side streets and alleys in an effort to elude anyone who might be possibly following him, his head filled with thoughts of her.
He’d always believed the adage that familiarity bred contempt, but that hadn’t been the case between him and Colette. Days and nights of togetherness had fostered a steaming desire, an explosive passion that had simmered to uncontrollable proportions.
His control had snapped and complicated what should have been an easy assignment, complicated the lives of everyone involved.
He’d vowed to himself five years before that his heart would never be touched again, and it was a promise he intended to keep. Colette would have his protection, and as long as she understood the rules, she could even experience his passion, but she’d never, ever warm his cold, hard heart.
He parked in front of their motel room, seeing nothing amiss. Still, caution came as natural as breathing. He kept the motor running and the baby in the car seat as he got out of the car and approached the room. Pulling the key from his pocket, he placed an ear to the door.
He wasn’t concerned about her getting loose and calling the local law. His authority far exceeded theirs and they would only remand her back into his custody. What did worry him was that if she’d managed to call the law, who else might have heard telltale radio transmissions? The one mistake Hank knew better than to make was to underestimate Cameron Collier.
He heard no sounds emanating from inside the room, had no whisper of danger walk up his back. His instincts all proclaimed it safe and he had learned long ago to depend on his unscientific but nearly faultless instincts.
It took him only moments to shut off the car, gather Brook and the packages from the back seat, and open the motel room door.
Colette remained in the same position he’d left her, her eyes shooting anger and resentment as he entered. He placed the baby and the shopping bags on the other bed, then quickly untied Colette from her bonds. She sat up and rubbed her wrists, her eyes steady on him. “It was enough that you took my baby with you, you didn’t have to tie me up like a steer.”
“If I’d thought it unnecessary, I wouldn’t have done it,” he replied as he wrapped the phone cord in a small bundle and shoved it into his pocket. He gestured to the packages on the bed. “I picked up the stuff for the kid, and I also bought a couple T-shirts and jogging pants so you’d have a change of clothes.”
“You’re so good to me,” Colette returned sarcastically.
He sank down on the edge of his bed, suddenly exhausted. The past months of not knowing where Colette was, if she were still alive, or if Collier had gotten to her, had stretched his nerves.
Now that she was where she needed to be, he didn’t want to fight with her. He didn’t want to have to watch not only her back, but his own, as well, worrying about whether she’d run or not.
As she opened a can of the formula and prepared a bottle for the baby, Hank absently rubbed a hand across his forehead where a band of tension pressed painfully. Why couldn’t she just cooperate with him? It would be so much easier if he could trust her, so he could go in and take a hot shower, then get a couple hours of deep sleep without worrying about her sneaking out and disappearing once again.
“Shouldn’t you heat that or something?” he asked as she finished preparing the bottle and picked up Brook.
“It isn’t necessary. The formula is sterile and room temperature.”
Brook was in her arms, drinking from a bottle and for a moment the picture of mother and child caused a strange warmth to suffuse him.
Colette’s head was bent, her hair forming a curtain of brown silk as she smiled down at the baby. He’d never seen Colette look so soft. It was as if the mere act of feeding her child created a peace in her that transcended any other problems she might face.
There were things he needed to explain to her, things that he hoped would make her realize she had to trust him, make her reluctant to run. But he remained silent, loath to shatter the momentary peace she’d found.
He knew he should look away from her, but like the moon pulled the tides, something about the scene drew him. As he watched, Colette rubbed a finger across Brook’s cheek, then laughed and murmured something too low for Hank to hear.
He’d seen Colette’s eyes filled with anger, snapping with impatience and glazed with frightened tears, but in the time they’d been together, he’d never seen her so softly vulnerable, so filled with tenderness. He suddenly felt threatened, bewitched by the heat that swirled inside him, the beauty of her loving smile.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice louder than intended, smashing the momentary quiet of the room.
“So talk.” Her eyes flashed annoyance and an edge of relief swept through Hank. Annoyance was good. Irritation was good. Far better to deal with those emotions than the alien ones she’d stirred moments before.
She placed the baby at her shoulder and patted her back, looking at him expectantly.
“Colette, I don’t think you fully understand the danger you’re in, the fact that if you escape from me you’ll probably end up dead. Until we get to California, your only hope for staying alive is to remain with me.”
He raked a hand through his hair, his gaze remaining on her. “Think about it. You have no money, no memory of friends to turn to for help. How long can you survive on your own with the baby, hiding from killers?” He could tell he was getting to her. She half flinched beneath each statement of fact. “I can’t tell you how dangerous Cameron Collier is. He’s powerful enough to find you no matter where you try to hide.”
“But my sisters—”
“You’d only place them in danger,” he said, cutting her off. “Colette, you have to understand. The next two weeks are going to be the most dangerous you ever experience. You won’t survive them without me. And I won’t survive them if I have to watch my back with you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, all innocence that didn’t fool him a bit.
“To be smarter, better than Collier’s men, I’ll need sleep, and I can’t sleep if I know each time I close my eyes you’ll try to get away. Hell, I can’t even contemplate a nice hot shower unless I take the baby into the bathroom with me as a little insurance.”
Her face flushed a becoming pink as she placed the baby, who’d fallen asleep, back on the bed. She rubbed her forehead, as if she, too, suffered a tension headache. “I’ll make you a deal,” she finally said. “I promise you I won’t try to escape between here and California.”
He eyed her skeptically. Could he trust her to keep such a promise? He’d like to think he’d gotten through to her on an intelligent level, but knew Colette was the type of woman who functioned most of the time on emotions.
Yet, in her eyes he didn’t see a lie, but rather saw the resignation of a woman who knew he’d told her the truth about her situation.
“Do you ever break your promises, Colette?”
She smiled. “I can honestly say I can’t remember a single time that I’ve ever broken a promise.”
“Easy to say when you have amnesia.”
She shrugged. “It’s the best I can do.” A sigh escaped her. “Hank, I’ve given you my word and I intend to keep it. Besides, it’s been a rather trying day and at the moment I’m just too damned tired to try to escape.” She stood. “In fact, if you aren’t going to use that hot shower, I will.” She grabbed a pair of the jogging pants and one of the T-shirts he’d bought, then with a final check on Brook, disappeared into the bathroom.
As the sound of the water running echoed from the tiny bathroom, Hank kicked off his boots and stretched out on the bed.
Just a little more than two weeks…sixteen days and he could finally put this case and Colette Connor behind him. A year of his life had been devoted to what should have taken the justice system mere weeks. But the criminal docket had been full, and the judge assigned to the case had been lenient in granting delays and postponements to Collier’s legal eagles.
Hank had been relieved to hear there would be no more delays. Cameron Collier would have his day in court, and Hank would make certain the star witness was there. Too bad he couldn’t guarantee she’d remember the incriminating conversation she’d overheard. Nor could he guarantee what her life would be like after testifying.
He closed his eyes, shoving away thoughts of what might happen to her after this was all over. It had nothing to do with him. He’d continue his life… alone, his hard heart unscathed.
Despite his efforts to the contrary, as the shower continued to run, a mental image of Colette beneath the spray filled his brain. He could easily imagine her head thrown back, her lithe body thrust beneath the spray.
He knew, from the time they’d spent together before, that she liked her shower hot enough to turn her skin a rosy pink. She’d use the washcloth laden with suds languidly, beginning at her shoulders, then caressing across her full breasts…down the flat of her stomach, across the slight protrusion of her hip bones—
With a muttered oath, he pulled himself off the bed, fighting against a wave of internal heat so intense it threatened to overwhelm him.
He opened the motel room door and stepped outside, the cool night air caressing his fevered skin. Not only did he have to worry about Collier’s men finding them before the trial, he also had to worry about himself and maintaining control over the crazy, powerful desire Colette stirred in him.
He knew Colette didn’t understand his rules, the ones that had kept him sane for the past five years of his life. She wasn’t the type of woman to enjoy their enforced intimacy, indulge in passion without commitment, sex without love. And he wouldn’t have a relationship any other way.
Pulling his keys from his pocket, he walked to his car. He opened up the trunk and withdrew a duffel bag that held clean clothes and toiletry items. He took a few deep breaths of the cool night air, then went back into their room.
* * *
COLETTE RINSED her hair beneath the spray for a second time, wishing she had a bottle of shampoo instead of the tiny bar of soap the motel had provided.
As she worked to get the last bit of suds out, her mind whirled with suppositions and what-if’s. The initial panic she’d felt, the horror of realizing Hank wasn’t taking her home, had passed, leaving in its wake a dull resignation.
She intended to keep her promise to Hank. She wouldn’t attempt to run from him between here and California. She didn’t want to put her family at risk by going back to the ranch, and had no money, no place else to go.
In California perhaps she could connect with Marcia. It had been obvious when she’d spoken to the young woman on the phone that she and Colette had been friends. Surely Marcia could loan her some money, help her disappear from those who wanted to harm her. Perhaps she could even talk to Collier again, explain to him about her amnesia, let him know he had nothing to fear from her. Yeah, right. She frowned, knowing it was those kinds of naive thoughts that would end up getting her killed.
She shut the water off and grabbed one of the thin, motel-issue towels. As she dried herself off, she thought again of the man who held her captive.
Initially he’d told her they’d had a one-night stand, then he’d told her that wasn’t true, that he’d lied. And yet she still had a feeling they’d been more than uneasy strangers trapped together by circumstances.
His kiss had stirred a whisper of memory, a remembered response of passion. Why? Had they been lovers? Then why would he lie? How could she completely trust him when she still saw secrets in his eyes, still sensed lies in his heart?
Still confused, she yanked on the pair of black sweatpants and the oversize light blue T-shirt. At least she was grateful he’d realized she wouldn’t want to spend the next couple of days in the same clothing.
Standing in front of the mirror, she did her best to finger-comb her wet hair, wishing for a brush. She stared at her reflection. “Why can’t you remember?” she asked her image.
What was it that kept her memory firmly hidden behind locked doors in her mind? What event had cast her into the darkness of amnesia? And why…why did she have a feeling Hank was at the heart of it all?
She didn’t fear him physically. She knew if he’d wanted to harm her, he’d had a dozen chances when they’d been at the ranch. Still, he did inspire something akin to fear, she just couldn’t seem to put her finger on what exactly it was.
Oh, how she wished she knew who Brook’s father was, where he could be. Was he searching for them? This was one more reason for her to get to California. He had to be there, waiting for her, missing her.
Surely she’d loved him, had given herself to a man who loved her, a man who’d give his life to protect her and their child.
Maybe he’d find her, help her out of this entire mess. She closed her eyes, imagining his strong arms enfolding her, his lips whispering a promise of forever in her ear. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed against the sting of tears. Someplace out there was a man, Brook’s father, Colette’s prince and sooner or later they would find each other and live happily ever after. She had to believe that, she had to.
She turned away from her reflection and grabbed the jeans and blouse she’d had on before her shower. She left the bathroom, surprised to see Hank reentering the room with a duffel bag in his hand.
Sinking onto the edge of the bed, she tried to ignore how completely he seemed to fill the room. Every movement he made seethed with suppressed energy and overwhelming masculinity.
She watched as he pulled clean clothes from the duffel bag. “I don’t suppose you’d have a hairbrush in there, would you?”
He frowned, as if irritated at the thought of sharing his personal items. “No brush, but I’ve got a comb.” He pulled it from his back pocket and tossed it to her. He straightened and eyed her in speculation. “I’m going to take a shower.”
She nodded, uneasy beneath the heat of his gaze. As he continued to look at her, her uneasiness increased and a flush of heat worked its way up her neck to burn her cheeks. The air seemed to thicken, vibrate with a new tension as his gaze lingered.
Her mouth grew dry and she broke the gaze, focusing instead on pulling the comb through her hair. “Hank, I told you I wouldn’t try to run,” she said, wondering if that’s what was on his mind.
“So you said.”
“You can trust me.”
“Can I?” One of his dark eyebrows rose upward in a gesture of disbelief.
“Was I in the habit of breaking promises to you before I got amnesia?” she asked.
He seemed to consider her question thoughtfully. “No, I don’t remember you breaking any promises.”
She worked the comb through her hair, wincing as she encountered a tangle. “For heaven’s sake, Hank. Go take your shower. I’m not going anywhere.” She just wished he’d go, and take the uncomfortable tension with him.
“I’d feel better if I had a little insurance,” he returned.
“You aren’t taking Brook into the shower,” Colette snapped. “She’s a baby, not a bargaining chip.”
“You’re right. In any case, that wasn’t the kind of insurance I had in mind.”
“So, what?” she asked impatiently.
“Take off your pants.”