Her Baby’s Bodyguard

by Ingrid Weaver

  “You’ll get no argument from me or any of the guys about that. She proved more than once that she’s one brave lady.”

  “Not many people have her kind of courage.”

  “I could tell on the flight here that you two seemed pretty close.”

  “She relied on me. She counted on me.”

  “She’s also a good-looking woman.”

  Jack shot him a warning glance.

  “Just stating a fact, doc. I could see that you noticed.”

  “So?”

  “So what you do on your downtime is your business, but you’d better get your head on straight in the next—” he glanced at his watch “—fifty-one minutes. The major won’t wait.”

  Katya whimpered. Jack shifted her to a football carry and rocked her back and forth. “Tell Redinger I’m not going anywhere until I know Eva’s all right.”

  Tyler scowled. “Think about this before you get carried away. Your head’s still in the mission. You’re confusing your sense of responsibility with genuine attraction. Eva’s being taken care of. She doesn’t need you.”

  “Don’t quote the psych lectures to me, junior. I’ve heard them all. I’ve been going on missions since before you started to shave. Oh, I forgot. You’re still not old enough to shave.”

  “Jack, I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  Tyler hesitated. “You can’t mean that. You’ve only known her for a few days.”

  Jack raked his free hand through his hair and then squeezed the back of his neck. Was he mistaking adrenaline-induced desire for something more? He didn’t think so. From the start, he’d been drawn to Eva on a level that went deeper than sex. The amount of time they’d had together didn’t seem to matter—they’d connected as if they’d already recognized each other.

  But he wasn’t going to try explaining his feelings to Tyler. He wasn’t sure he understood them himself.

  The door to the examining room opened. A middle-aged doctor wearing wire-rimmed glasses and a set of scrubs that stretched over a weight lifter’s build stepped out. He peered over his glasses first at Tyler and then at Jack. “Sergeant Norton?”

  Jack didn’t know him. He wasn’t one of the doctors who had been on duty when they’d brought Eva here. How many physicians did she need? How bad was this? He stepped forward. “I’m Norton. How is she?”

  “Dr. Petrova’s awake and alert.”

  He exhaled hard. Had he overreacted? “Did you find out what’s wrong?”

  “We’re not sure. We’re waiting for some blood work.”

  “I need to see her,” he said, starting past.

  “Hold on, Sergeant. You can’t do that.”

  Jack didn’t slow down. “This is her daughter. Eva’s probably been asking for her.”

  “She has, but until we know what we’re dealing with, for the child’s sake you should keep her away from her mother. We’ve moved Dr. Petrova into full isolation.”

  That stopped him in his tracks. He turned to face the doctor. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “As I said, we’re running some further blood tests.”

  “You know she’s a nursing mother, right? And she’s been through a traumatic experience. The bullet wound in her side was cleansed, but—”

  “Sergeant, I’m fully aware of Dr. Petrova’s history. I’ve also been told of the circumstances that preceded her collapse,” he added.

  Jack met his regard levelly. “Good. Then you should understand that I’m not going to be placated with generalities. I’m going to stay in your face until you give me some real answers.”

  “Right now, all we know is there’s something unusual in her blood.”

  “Is it an infection?”

  “It appears to be some kind of virus, but so far we haven’t been able to identify it. It’s not like anything we’ve seen before.”

  A virus?

  No. It wasn’t possible. Eva worked at a computer, in an office. She didn’t work in the complex’s lab. She was too smart to have accidentally infected herself. Because of the baby, she would have been cautious to the point of paranoia.

  Jack glanced past the doctor to where Tyler still stood in the corridor. He could see by the look on his face that his thoughts had followed the same path as Jack’s.

  Katya kicked her feet against his side. Jack moved her to his shoulder again and brushed his lips over her hair. Hair so like her mother’s. Silky and fine. With a scent like honey. He held her tighter.

  No! It had to be something else.

  “As a precaution,” the doctor continued, “I’ve been authorized to quarantine everyone who has come into contact with Dr. Petrova. Until we have some answers, no one is leaving this ship.”

  Chapter 10

  The thick sheets of plastic that curtained Eva’s hospital bed distorted the rest of the room into a colorless blur. Like the other rooms she’d seen on the ship, there were no windows. The hours crawled by with no distinction between day or night, only the steady beat of the heart monitor behind her to keep time. Beyond the door she could hear voices and the sound of people and equipment being moved, but the booming thud of the catapult on the flight deck had been silent from the time she’d woken up here more than two days ago.

  She hadn’t wanted Jack to leave, and he hadn’t. She’d wished he could have stayed, and he had.

  But she hadn’t wanted him to stay because of this. Dear God, she’d thought the worst was over.

  It was only beginning.

  The signs had been there and growing worse since she’d left the complex—the fatigue, the dizziness, her inability to keep awake. The Chameleon Virus was beginning its assault on her body, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it. She’d made excuses. She’d seen only what she’d wanted to see.

  She’d done that with Burian and her research, too. She’d ignored the warning signs and had deceived herself into believing everything was fine, but she’d been wrong. And now because of her blindness she could have condemned Katya and Jack to death….

  The room blurred. Eva forced herself to take deep breaths until her head cleared.

  No! She wouldn’t think like that. If it really was the Chameleon Virus that was causing her weakness, then Katya and Jack had to be all right. Burian had designed the virus to be stable when it was dormant—that was one of the aspects that made it such an easily deployed weapon. It adapted to an individual’s DNA the moment it got into the host’s body. Eva couldn’t have passed it on to either of them.

  At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. She had to believe she wasn’t mistaken about this. Otherwise, she would go insane.

  The nurse who was drawing the latest blood sample patted Eva’s arm. “All done.” The lower half of her face was hidden behind a mask, but her brown eyes were filled with sympathy. She capped the vial and placed it in the rack she’d left on the tray table. “You should try to get some rest, Eva. Let this new medication do its job.”

  She pushed herself up on her elbows. The tube that snaked from her arm to the IV stand beside the bed rattled against the bed rail, along with the wire from the lead on her chest. She brushed them aside and sat up. “I can’t rest. Where’s my daughter now?”

  “She’s still in quarantine. She’s being well looked after.”

  Eva glanced down at her breasts. They were hard, swollen globes under the hospital gown. Her body was demanding that she nurse Katya, but she wouldn’t dream of endangering her child. During the last forty-eight hours, the doctors had pushed a cocktail of drugs into her system in an attempt to slow down the virus. She didn’t want the drugs to filter through to Katya. And for all she knew, her milk could be poison. She could have been passing this horror to her daughter for days, just as her kiss had passed it to Jack….

  No! She couldn’t go there. They had to be all right.

  She drew up her knees, wrapped her arms around her legs and pressed her aching breasts to her thighs. “Katya likes to be held. And she needs to be burped for at
least fifteen minutes after she’s been fed.”

  “Yes, we’ve all noticed your daughter is quite vocal about making her needs known.”

  “Is she still accepting the bottle?”

  “She has too good an appetite to refuse it, but she pouts about it first.”

  Eva clenched her fists, trying to hold the tears at bay. The ship’s doctors had consulted with pediatricians at a base hospital and devised an infant formula from the supplies available on board. Katya was getting nourishment; that’s all that was important, even though the bottle Eva had packed among her baby supplies had been meant for water, not milk. She had planned to breast-feed her baby for a full year, just as the books had recommended.

  But they weren’t going to have a full year together. They might not have much more than a week. “How soon…” She stopped and swallowed hard. “How much longer before you know the results of the blood tests?”

  The nurse placed her gloved hand over Eva’s arm. “It should be soon.”

  “You’ll tell me right away, won’t you? I want to know. Either way. I need to know.”

  “The minute we learn anything about you or your daughter, we’ll tell you. I promise.”

  “What about the soldiers who brought me to the ship? Are their results in yet?”

  “We’re processing everything as fast as we can, Eva. Have patience.” She gave her arm a parting squeeze and then picked up the rack of blood samples and used her shoulder to push aside one of the plastic sheets. It settled back into place with a squeaking swish, leaving Eva alone.

  That was the worst part of staying in this plastic-walled prison. This was the first time since she’d sensed her child’s life growing within her that she’d been completely alone. She’d lived with emptiness before. She’d learned to fill it by using her mind, yet now that she’d opened her heart she could never go back to the way she’d been. Even if love hurt, she was going to embrace it.

  Because in the end, it was only love that endured. Her own mother’s face had grown hazy in her memory, but she remembered the love in her voice as she read from her book of fairy tales and the softness of her good-night kiss on her forehead. And there was the way Grandma’s smile would crinkle all the lines on her face whenever Eva had taken her hand. Even her father had loved her in his own way. He hadn’t been physically demonstrative, but his eyes had shone with love and pride with each award and degree she’d received. No matter what high-level diplomatic negotiations had been going on, he’d managed to be there for every one of her birthdays and graduation ceremonies except the last.

  But Katya would be too young to remember anything. She wouldn’t have the memory of her mother’s touch to comfort her when she grew older. She wouldn’t see the pride in her eyes. Eva wouldn’t be there when her daughter graduated kindergarten. She wouldn’t be there for her first birthday. She might not live to see Katya get off this ship.

  And what would Jack remember about her? Would he think of her when he was finally free to leave? When he flew off to another mission, would he remember the passion they’d shared in that cramped, steel-walled cabin? And when he went home again would he meet some other woman who would be able to unlock all the tenderness he kept inside? He deserved to be happy, to have someone who loved him….

  Eva dropped her forehead to her knees. The grief for what might have been was there, waiting to swallow her if she let it, but she wasn’t going to give in. It would be a waste of the time she had left.

  Dear God, she didn’t want to die.

  Plastic swished again. Eva lifted her head. Through her tears she saw that a man wearing the same kind of long-sleeved gown and mask as the nurses did was standing at the foot of her bed. “Are the test results in?” she asked.

  “Not yet, Eva.”

  That was Jack’s voice. She wiped her eyes fast and focused on what she could see of his face. “Jack? What are you doing here?”

  “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.” He glanced at the monitor and the IV drip and then pushed aside the tray table and sat on the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  Her lips trembled. He was keeping his tone casual, just as he’d done when he’d first discovered her bullet wound. That seemed so long ago now. “Better than I was. With all the drugs they’re giving me, I feel as if I shouldn’t even be in this bed. What about you? Are you all right?”

  “Other than getting stir crazy waiting around to hear from the doctors?”

  “Yes, other than that.”

  “No fatigue, no dizziness. No sign that anything’s wrong.” He eased her arm away from her knees and took her hand. Even through the latex gloves he wore, his warmth flowed into her fingers. “Katya doesn’t have any symptoms, either.”

  Hope surged. “You’ve seen Katya? She’s really all right?”

  “She’s in the quarantine ward with us. So are those CIA agents and the helicopter crew.”

  “And the medical staff? They’re treating Katya well?”

  “She’s got them all wrapped around her tiny fingers. Between Meg Hurlbut and the nurses, she gets enough attention for five kids. When she grows up she’ll either have a great career as a drill sergeant or she’ll have to look for a job opening for a princess. She sure seems to like being waited on.”

  He was trying to make her smile. That fact only brought a lump to her throat. “All I hope is that she does grow up.”

  “She will, Eva. She’s strong, like her mother.” He blotted her cheeks with the edge of the blanket. “You’ll get through this.”

  “The Chameleon Virus is fatal, Jack.”

  “It might be something else. Someone could have coughed on those sausages we got in that town whose name I can’t pronounce. It could be the flu. Or the mumps. Ever had the mumps?”

  She gripped his hand. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but we both know it’s not the flu or the mumps.”

  “I’m not doing anything. I wish I could.”

  “Please, don’t feel responsible for me. I know it was once your job to protect me, but this virus is one thing you can’t protect me from.”

  He tipped back his head, his throat working. “I know.”

  “And I want you to know I never considered the possibility that I could have been infected. From the time I’d learned I was pregnant, I kept away from the laboratory building. I only went into Burian’s lab the day before I left, but it’s on the fourth floor. The containment levels are underground. That’s where all the hazardous work is done.”

  “This isn’t your fault, Eva.”

  She wished she could believe that. “I’ve gone over and over my actions, and I can’t think of any other place I would have been exposed to the live virus. Even then, I don’t know how it happened. The only thing I touched in Burian’s lab was his computer. If I’d thought there was even a remote risk of contamination, I would have worn protective clothing.”

  “I know you would. You think everything through.”

  “And if I’d suspected what was wrong with me, I never would have kissed you. I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry.”

  “Seems to me I was to blame for that, not you.”

  “No, I should have realized—”

  “Will you quit apologizing? I make it a practice to do five dangerous things before breakfast, remember?”

  Her laugh came out as a sob. She covered her face with her hands. The beeps from the monitor accelerated.

  “Hey, that can’t be good for you,” he muttered. He lifted his arms to reach for her.

  She straightened her legs and shoved herself farther toward the head of the bed. “No! You shouldn’t be this close to me. Not until we know for sure what I’ve got.”

  “I had your blood on my skin a few hours after we met, and we’ve already shared bodily fluids. If I was going to get what you have, I’d already have it. I probably shouldn’t bother wearing this mask.”

  “God, I’m sorry.”

  “Shh. Risk is part of my job.” He le
aned forward and laid his hands on her shoulders. “But making love to you wasn’t. Eva, I let things get out of control. I hadn’t meant for the kiss to go so far. I should have noticed that you weren’t well, but I wasn’t thinking. I’m the one who owes you an apology.”

  “Is that why you’re here? Because you’re sorry about what happened between us?”

  “Hell, no. I’m apologizing for the way it ended. I’m not sorry it happened. Are you?”

  She didn’t have to think about her answer for one instant. “No. It felt wonderful.”

  “Except for the passing out part.”

  “Yes, except for that.”

  “The docs figure your increased pulse rate put too much strain on your heart. If I’d known—” he shook his head “—I don’t think I would have stopped, Eva. I’m not that noble. Maybe I would have been gentler, but—”

  “Jack, please. Don’t feel guilty. It’s a waste of time.”

  The word hung in the air between them. Jack rubbed his thumbs across the cotton of her hospital gown. “It’s not over yet.”

  “In another ten days—fourteen at the most—it will be.”

  “The spooks said they’ve got scientists back in the States who’ve been analyzing the data that was on the disk you gave them. Ted Shires brought his laptop into quarantine to follow their progress. They’re sending e-mail updates to him and the medical staff here. Duncan’s been keeping track of it, too. He told me the experts are learning more about the virus by the minute. They’re bound to come up with something.”

  It was probably foolish of her, yet she wanted with every ounce of her being to believe him. And she wanted the comfort of his touch, his warmth, his familiar scent. But she couldn’t touch him, and all she could smell was boiled cotton.

  It didn’t matter. His presence alone was like sunshine in the windowless room. He was a good man. A caring lover. She had plenty of regrets, but making love with Jack wasn’t among them. She’d realized that one night would be all that they’d have even before she’d gotten sick. He’d given her more passion in a few hours than she’d known in her lifetime. He’d made her feel…alive.