He nodded to the man who had been leaning unobtrusively against a wall, watching the two of them. He recognized him from his previous visit. He was the US Marshall who shadowed Beth.
The three of them waited for the elevator, and Clint realized how much he hated this hospital. He was sick of visiting Lydia in hospitals. He really wanted her to be well. He wanted both of the Hidalgo women to be well. Then he re-thought his position, if Lydia weren’t in the hospital, he wouldn’t have found her, however he had been damn close to finding her. Thank God the Marshall’s put up with his presence when she was in the hospital.
When they got off on the fifth floor it was easy to determine which room was hers. There was another US Marshall outside her door. He didn’t recognize him. Beth introduced Clint to Ed, and he provided his military ID to the man.
“The doctor just left. She said that Lydia was probably going to sleep through until morning,” the big man explained.
“Thanks, Ed,” Beth said. “If she’s asleep, we’ll leave.”
Clint opened the door and held it for Beth to go through. His gaze immediately zeroed in on Lydia. Damn, she looked so frail in the hospital bed. He had just seen her two months ago as she was discharged from this same hospital and she had been looking so happy and healthy. To see her like this about broke his heart.
“Beth?” Lydia didn’t open her eyes.
“I’m here and I brought a friend.”
Lydia turned her head on the pillow and slowly lifted her lids. It seemed to take a moment for her to focus.
“You came. Oh Clint, you came.” Her smile lit up the hospital room, and filled every fiber of his being. He was at her bedside in an instant and gripping her outstretched hand.
“I’ll always come for your baby. Always.” Her face might be thin and ravaged by illness but she was the most beautiful woman on the planet.
Lydia’s smile dimmed. “You need to leave. Nothing’s changed.”
She was right, but it still hurt to hear her say it.
“I’m staying. I don’t care what’s going to happen in the future, for right now you need me, and I need to be with you.” Despite her verbal rejection her grip never lessened. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. He heard the door open and close. Bless Beth, she knew they needed this time alone.
“Clint, you know we can never have a future together. I’m either going into Witness Protection, or if Papa decides not to testify, I’ll be going back to Mexico. Don’t do this to yourself. Please don’t. I don’t want you hurt. Anyway, you only know me as someone who is a patient in a hospital, or someone who needs to be rescued. Just leave, it’s for the best.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I know you, Lydia Hidalgo, and over my dead body will you be going back to Mexico.”
“But if my father…” her voice began to slur with the drugs they gave her.
“I hope so…” Lydia’s eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep. Clint looked around the room and pulled up a chair. He would watch over her as she slept. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her now that he was here. What’s more, he had some thinking to do.
First thing, he needed to find out from Lydia’s father if there was anything stopping him from testifying, because there wasn’t a chance in fucking hell he was going to let the Hidalgos return to Mexico. Of course there also wasn’t a chance in hell he was giving up Lydia to the Witness Protection Program either.
The phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was Darius asking him for a status. Rubbing the back of his neck, he gave another quick glance at Lydia, then took his time responding to Darius’ text. He wasn’t surprised by the immediate offer of help. He didn’t expect anything less. He promised to call later.
He was tired. He had caught a little bit of shut eye on the flight from California to Dallas. The problem was all activity that had just gone on in California before he had left. He’d been up for almost two days and it was catching up with him.
Clint still needed to think through how best to protect Lydia. All of his big ideas that they should stay together were just assumptions, they hadn’t really ever talked about a future together. Hell, they hadn’t even really had much of a present together. All of their time together had been while she was recuperating in the hospital.
Scratch that. There were the first five days they had spent together. He looked down at her wrist and swore. He could still see a faint scar where the rope had bit into her flesh. Why hadn’t they got there sooner? Seeing that small sign of abuse was all it took for him to flash back to the jungle.
****
“Clint?”
He looked up and saw Beth standing over him. He must have fallen asleep. He looked at his watch. It hadn’t been too long. She held out a cup of coffee.
“I owe you my life,” he said taking the Styrofoam cup.
“I think you have that turned around.” There was a hint of a smile in Beth’s eyes that he was happy to see.
“Wanna tell me how you have been doing? Last I heard you and Lydia were doing some on-line education courses.”
“Lydia’s getting depressed. If we’d stayed in Mexico, Lydia would have finished her Masters by now. She had a job lined up and everything.”
Clint couldn’t help but feel a little bit of tension ease. He definitely supported Lydia taking a job in law enforcement but the Federal Ministerial Police had neon bulls-eyes on their backs. If he had his way, somehow he would figure out a way they didn’t have to go into Witness Protection and she could take a job with the police near him in San Diego.
“Lydia won’t talk about why she chose that line of work. Every time I ask, she just clams up.”
Beth cocked her head and raised an eyebrow.
“Clams up, means she just doesn’t say anything, she shuts her mouth,” Clint explained.
“Ahhh. Sometimes I don’t understand the American idioms. Before Papa got a good job at the accounting firm, we lived in a not so good part of Mexico City. We had neighbors, Angela and Herman. They were a young married couple who were gunned down walking home from the corner market. Angela was our babysitter. She was pregnant. He’d been questioned by the policia about another shooting. He hadn’t said anything, but because they’d seen him talking the gangs killed him.”
Clint could see how that would have convinced Lydia to commit herself to a career in law enforcement.
“Clint, have you checked into a hotel? You need to get some sleep.”
“I’m just going to sleep here tonight.”
“Mama said they gave her medication to sleep through the night. She’s not going to wake up. You need to take care of yourself.” He gave the young woman a half smile.
“Feeling a little more confident these days, are you?”
“With a few people. I still can’t stand to be touched by a man. It breaks Papa’s heart when I flinch away from him.”
“Are you–”
“Yes. I already told you, am going to see the counselor. Both Lydia and I have talked to her.” He looked from Beth down to where Lydia was lying in the bed.
“I’m glad.”
“Don’t be, it’s not helping. Have you ever been to counseling?” Beth’s chin jutted out, but her voice trembled. He wished he could take her into his arms and tell her it would be all right.
“Yes. There was a mission that went bad and it was mandatory.”
“Did it help?”
Clint looked into her big black eyes and saw the doubt and hope.
“I didn’t think so when I was going but now that I look back on it? Yeah. Yeah, I think it did help.” Beth bit her lip.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thanks for the coffee.”
She nodded, letting her dark hair cover her face and left.
He settled back in his seat while taking another sip of his coffee. It hadn’t gotten any better since the last time he had been here. At least it wouldn’t affect his ability to get to
sleep. It was one of the first things he had learned in the military, how to sleep no matter the circumstances.
****
So tired. It felt like every one of her bones weighed fifty pounds. Even her fingers felt like they were made of lead. Damn, they’d drugged her again. She hated when they did that. It was always for her own good.
You need your rest, Lydia. It’s the best medicine.
If she needed to rest, wouldn’t she just go to sleep? She tried to shake her head to clear the fuzziness and that was when she saw him. Her heart tumbled over in her chest. Didn’t it always when she saw this beautiful man?
Oh yeah, she’d seen him right as the drugs were taking affect. What had she said? She’d told him he needed to leave. That he didn’t really know the real her. Lydia blushed. She’d always been a terrible liar. Clint had called her on it.
She traced the angles of his face with her eyes. He looked as tired as she felt. She reached across the white expanse of sheet, wishing she could hold his hand. Even that much effort wore her out, and she was fighting to keep her eyes open. At least the last thing she would see before she drifted off would be Clint Archer. Maybe she would dream of him.
****
The first thing Lydia noticed when she woke up was she felt better. She could feel the sunlight streaming in through the window and falling onto her face. She waited and then she heard it. Birds singing. She let out a sigh. It was going to be a better day. Then she grinned and turned her head and looked at the man sitting next to her.
He was looking at her. It had been the second day in the jungle when she had started to try to figure out what color his eyes were. Sometimes they were green, sometimes gray, in the right light they looked almost golden with flecks of turquoise. Today they were hazel.
“Hello.” Her voice was raspy.
“Hi, Baby. You had me worried.” His voice sounded like he chewed on gravel. It comforted her.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Didn’t sound like it yesterday.”
She shrugged. “I’m all over the board with this illness and being under the microscope at the safe house.”
Clint pulled his chair even closer to the bed. He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “You’re going to get better. Your father is going to testify. Life will get back to normal.”
“What’s normal?” She saw him struggle to answer. “I’m not trying to give you a trick question, I just mean I’m never going to have my old life back. I’m never going back to the woman I was before that day in the jungle.”
“Baby, I–” She saw the pain on his face and stopped him.
“That came out wrong. I don’t mean the whipping. I mean the kidnapping. I mean Papa conspiring with the cartel and then turning on them. Everything that led up to that day. I’m never going to work for the Federal Ministerial Police, even if I do return to Mexico City.”
He cupped her cheek and gave her a steady look. “First, let’s get one thing straight, you are not going back to Mexico City. You know there will always be people gunning for you. But if I met you before all of this happened, I want to be honest with you, it scared me to death you signed up for the Federal Ministerial Police.”
She saw red, but then she took a deep breath, maybe she was reading this wrong.
“Clint?”
“Lydia, ever since you told me what you did back in Mexico City, I’ve been astounded by your bravery. But you never intended to stay a low level member of the Ministry, did you? You planned to fight for justice and take on the cartels, didn’t you?” Lydia pulled away from the hand gripping her chin.
“Yes.”
“That’s why I was scared. I would have never asked you not to do something like that. How could I when my job is so dangerous, but it sure as hell scared me.”
“I understand. Both of us want to serve our country, to make them better places. Now I have to put my dream away.” And that hurt. It hurt a lot.
She took a deep breath and gave him a big smile.
“But I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about the fact that I’m feeling better and I have a handsome man who flew from California to visit me.”
“I’m handsome, am I?” His eyes twinkled. She noticed the lines bracketing his mouth, and the days of dark blond scruff on his face. None of it diminished from the fact he was mouth-watering.
“Yep, you’re handsome, in ‘bad boy’ sort of way. Not in a way that would appeal to a lady like me.” Lydia couldn’t maintain a straight face as she gave Clint a hard time. It felt good to be teasing and laughing. The last four months had been too stressful and depressing.
“I guess you’re beautiful in the ‘look but don’t touch’ sort of way. Not the type that would appeal to a down to earth type of guy like me.” Clint’s eyes warmed, and he picked up the hand that wasn’t tethered to the IV and brushed his lips to her palm. She shuddered at the intimate sensation.
“Okay, let’s get real a minute. You can’t keep dropping in for visits each time I get a sniffle. I know you feel a sense of responsibility-”
Clint’s palm covered her mouth before she even saw him move.
“Stop!” His palm was warm, the pressure didn’t hurt, even though the look in his eyes was wild. He took one, then a second, and then a third calming breath.
“Lydia Rose, don’t you fucking dare say I’m here because of some kind of misplaced sense of responsibility. You’re too fucking smart for that. You might try to relegate it that way, but you know it’s not. Are we clear? Are we?” Looking at those glittering eyes that were now steely gray, she had no other choice but to nod.
He lifted his hand.
“Say it. Tell me what this is.” His voice sounded like shards of rock being dragged over ice.
“I don’t know exactly what it is. I’ve run this over and over in my head. I think it is the beginning of something that has the potential of being rare and special.” Dammit, the tears were coming back. But again the hand was quicker than the eye, and he was holding hers, giving her comfort.
“Okay then. We’re on the same page.”
“When did you learn my middle name?”
“You mean you don’t know mine?” His thumb traced patterns on her palm and had her stomach turning backflips.
“Clinton Anthony Archer. I like it.”
“Why didn’t they name you Rosa? I thought that would have been more Hispanic.”
“Mama had an American friend named Rose. She thought it was nice.”
“It is nice. Do you know what else is nice? Kissing.”
The man was certifiable.
“Hey bed head, morning breath, hospital gown, and door not locked. How about you put off the whole kissing thing until next spring?” Clint was out of his chair and leaning over the bedrail looking into her eyes.
“I’ve dreamed about kissing you for damn near four months. You have the most delectable lips.” He wasn’t looking in her eyes anymore, he was focused on her mouth and he looked hungry. He wasn’t kidding. Oh God, she wanted this so badly, but she wanted to look beautiful for him.
“You take my breath away.”
“I will if you kiss me.”
His thumb grazed her bottom lip, parting them. “You’re not going to stop me, Lydia.”
Ever so slowly, he bent forward. She trembled, but he caught her, his right hand easing behind her neck, slipping into her hair and angling her head just right so their lips could meet in a soft sigh of hello.
He massaged her scalp as he brushed back and forth until she was following his lead, anxious to find out where the magic would lead. He didn’t rush a thing, letting her get used to the heat and texture, and then she flowered open, needing more. He didn’t rush the invitation, instead he gently parted her further, the hand that had been holding her chin splayed along her jaw and she rubbed against the strength of him.
He surrounded her in caring, tears pricked the back of her eyes. Her breasts swelled. She pushed against his chest
and demanded more. His tongue swept inside, and soon he was thrusting in the rhythm she desired, wanted, needed. She heard a sound and realized it was her.
Clint soothed her, tracing her cheek with his calloused fingertips, caressing her hair down her back.
“Shhhh, I have you.” His forehead rested against hers, and she could finally open her eyes. Passion turned his to emerald green. Now she knew her favorite color.
****
It’d been two weeks, and she was still mooning over one damn kiss. Seriously girlfriend, you need your head examined.
“So what’s the good word Dr. Woods? Do I get to leave?” It wasn’t like she had anything great to look forward to when she left. According to the US Marshalls they were still looking at least another six weeks at the safe house.
“I need a promise from you Lydia, you need to actually to follow my directive when you leave this time. You ignored the symptoms and allowed yourself to come down with another case of pneumonia. You didn’t need to. It didn’t need to get to this point. You’re a smart woman? You never told me why.”
“Is this under doctor and patient privilege?” Lydia was sitting up in the bed, and gave the doctor a steady look.
“If that’s the only way you’ll tell me and assure me you’ll take care of yourself, then yes.”
“Papa is hanging on by a thread. He feels so much guilt about what happened to Beth and me, whenever he is reminded of it, he….he.” Lydia couldn’t say it. It was a sin.
“Lydia, talk to me.” The doctor’s eyes were so compassionate. She was a good woman, someone Lydia had come to admire and trust.
“He took a bunch of pills. Mama found him before it was too late. She got him to throw up. We didn’t tell the Marshalls. We took care of it. If he thought I was getting sick again, it would have been too much for him.”
“Jesus. You know he needs help,” she breathed out.
“I know. But if the Marshalls find out, they might put him in some kind of institution until the trial. Mama hasn’t left his side. We keep telling him that he would be leaving all of us when we needed him the most.” Lydia clutched the handrail at the side of her bed, wincing when she tugged against the IV in her hand.
Her Loyal Seal Page 5