Major Nanny

by Paula Graves

  “A timer?” She ignored the urge to lean into his touch, though the temptation was almost more than she could bear. “How do you know?”

  “I talked to Parker while the deputies were talking to you,” he said in a quiet voice, shooting a quick look at the pair of deputies sitting just outside the waiting area where she and Harlan sat. “He has connections here and pulled a few strings for the information. This bomb looks a lot like the one you helped disarm in Austin, only this one wasn’t rigged to blow with a cell phone call.”

  “When was it timed to detonate?”

  “5:00 p.m.”

  She frowned, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. “Most days at five, it would be parked in the garage at the guesthouse. Would the blast have been big enough to take out the guesthouse, too?”

  “I don’t know. It would take out the car, and the garage would be destroyed, but the garage is brick, isn’t it?”

  “But my car wouldn’t have been in the garage tonight,” Stacy said, realizing that she hadn’t even told Harlan about her reason for having taken her car to Hal’s Garage in the first place. “Lila was supposed to take the car tonight. She and Bart were borrowing it to go to Amarillo for a meeting with potential donors.” She told him about Greg Merritt’s request. “They’d be on the road to Amarillo in the car at five. What if the bomb was meant for Lila?”

  Harlan muttered a low profanity. “How many people knew about that trip?”

  “I don’t know. Not many-the whole reason they were taking my car was to keep the trip under wraps. The donors they were going to talk to aren’t ready to commit to supporting the governor, and Lila didn’t want the press to get wind of this and scare them off. I didn’t even find out about it myself until this afternoon.”

  “Did you tell the deputies who interviewed you about the meeting?”

  “Yes. I thought it might be important information.”

  He nodded. “I’ve got to make some phone calls. Are you going to be okay here for a minute?”

  “I’m fine,” she answered, trying to hold back the shivers that still rattled up her spine. She managed a weak smile. She could tell from his look of sympathy that he wasn’t buying it, but he pretended to take her at her word and headed away from the waiting area.

  A moment later, Jeff Appleton entered, holding a cup of steaming coffee. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m all right,” she answered, suddenly overwhelmed by a powerful sense of paranoia, uncertain who she could trust anymore, after all she’d been through over the past few days.

  She’d known and liked Jeff since she and Zachary had moved to Freedom when she took the job with the governor, but what did she really know about him? It had taken Charlotte to tell her that his daughter’s developmental issues were the result of his late wife’s drinking and driving. She’d never even thought to find out the details of his life herself, despite seeing him several times a week at the diner and around town.

  She hadn’t let herself get very close with anyone in town, had she? Everything in her life revolved around Zachary, and even the thought of anything approaching a normal social life was utterly exhausting.

  Since her divorce, she’d never even looked at another man as a potential lover.

  Not until Harlan McClain had swept into her life in the wake of a deadly explosion.

  She took the coffee from him and took a sip. The bitter liquid burned a path down her throat, making her wince. But some of the shivers subsided almost immediately.

  “I had Abby’s sitter bring her down here. Just needed to see her, you know?” Jeff’s smile was sympathetic. “Charlotte’s watching her and Zachary in one of the interview rooms. Zachary’s practicing his meet-and-greet skills.”

  Stacy chuckled apprehensively. “How’s Abby taking that?”

  “She thinks he’s a hoot,” Jeff said with a smile. “I don’t think his quirks bother her much.” He sighed. “I can see now that she’s going to be a sucker for a pair of baby blues when she gets older. I swear, I’m shopping around for chastity belts as we speak.”

  “Hey, I have a kid with no concept of personal space,” she said with a wry grin. “I can sympathize.”

  “Stacy?” Sheriff Bernard Hale himself stepped into the open doorway, his dark brown eyes sharp but friendly. He motioned with a jerk of his head for her to follow him.

  She and Jeff walked with the sheriff down the hall to the same interview room where the deputies had questioned her earlier. But this time, it was full. Lila Lockhart sat at the table, flanked by Greg Merritt and Bart Bellows. Harlan and Parker McKenna stood behind them, their backs to the wall.

  Sheriff Hale pulled out a chair for her and took the other empty chair beside her. “I’ve caught everyone up on what happened today. Now would someone like to catch me up on what y’all are doing about it?”

  “Doing about it?” Bart Bellows answered the question with a fierce frown. “Hell, Bernard, I’ve practically handed the governor my whole stable of agents to keep her safe.”

  Lila patted his arm. “Bernard, I realize you’ve always been a little wary about having the governor living in your town, and I don’t suppose I can blame you for that. I know having me here makes for a lot more headaches for you, and I don’t imagine that’ll get any better now that I’m running for president. But what would you have me do? Leave? I grew up here in Freedom. My parents before me, and my granddaddy’s granddaddy helped build the first settlement, right down the road near Abernathy Ridge. Freedom’s in my marrow.”

  “Of course I’m not suggesting you leave town, Governor.” Bernard shot her a look of frustrated affection. “And I’m more than happy to have you fellows here, too,” he added, nodding at Harlan and Parker. “All I’m asking is, keep me in the loop. The way you talked about the bombing in Austin when I asked you about it, you acted like it wasn’t anything we needed to worry about up here. But I’m beginning to wonder if you were being entirely honest with me.”

  “Sheriff Hale, we can’t be sure this was even about the governor,” Greg Merritt said in a placating tone. “The bomb was attached to Ms. Giordano’s car, not the governor’s-”

  Stacy shot him a black look. He knew damned well that the bomb, had it not been detected, would have killed the governor and Bart Bellows, not Stacy. He was trying to throw her under the bus to protect Lila’s secret meeting that afternoon. She sneaked a look at the clock on the wall. It was only two. If they hurried, they could still be on the road in time to get to Amarillo. Was that all he cared about-massaging donors?

  “We know about the trip to Amarillo,” Bernard said flatly. “Ms. Giordano understood that we can’t help keep the governor safe if we don’t have vital information. I’m a little surprised you don’t understand that, too, Greg.”

  Stacy saw Harlan’s lips curve slightly at the sheriff’s slightly scolding tone. She’d sensed from the beginning that Harlan didn’t care much for Greg Merritt. She wasn’t the man’s biggest fan, either-he was far too ruthless and arrogant for her tastes-but he was a damned good political operative, and just the sort of campaign manager Lila needed to win, so she overlooked his personal flaws.

  But had she overlooked too much? Lila had stolen him practically out from under Lloyd Albertson, her strongest competition for the party’s presidential nomination. Could they be sure he wasn’t a double agent, undermining her for Albertson’s sake?

  Harlan shot her a curious look, and she realized her turn of thought must be written all over her face. She quickly schooled her expression before the governor and Merritt read her mind, as well.

  Within a half hour, Sheriff Hale had apparently exhausted his questions and he let them leave the sheriff’s department. “We’re going to have to impound your car for a few more days as evidence,” Hale apologized to Stacy.

  “I’ll give her a ride,” Harlan said quickly, shooting a look at Stacy. Something in his expression squelched her initial urge to argue.

  “Could we get the booste
r seat from my car?” Stacy asked.

  “I’ll send one of the deputies to get it for you,” Hale assured her. “You drive the Ford F-10, right, McClain?”

  Harlan nodded, and the sheriff headed down the hall away from them, the governor and Greg Merritt right on his heels.

  “I’ve lent the governor my car,” Parker explained to Harlan and Stacy. “I’ll catch a ride to the day care with Charlotte Manning and go home with Bailey.”

  Stacy squelched a smile at the eagerness in his eyes. Clearly, having to carpool with his fiancée was no hardship for the CSI agent.

  She followed him and Harlan down the hall to the room where Charlotte and Jeff Appleton were entertaining the two children. Abby, Jeff’s pretty, green-eyed six-year-old daughter, grinned at them as they entered. Zachary, as usual, kept working on his drawing, a look of steely determination in his blue eyes.

  Stacy sighed. Trying to drag Zachary away from a project was always a pain. But to her surprise, he put away the drawing with only the briefest of protests, slipping his hand into Harlan’s the second Harlan reached out to him.

  He gave them a little more trouble, however, when Harlan tried to strap him into the booster seat attached to the narrow bench seat at the back of the truck’s extended cab. “Where is your car?” he asked in a plaintive voice that reminded Stacy his nap was way overdue.

  “My car is in the shop,” she answered. “Remember?” He didn’t have to know about the bomb or the impoundment, after all. “Mr. McClain is being very nice to give us a ride home.”

  Zachary wasn’t impressed. “I don’t like this truck.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to get used to trucks if you ever intend to have a horse,” Harlan said.

  Zachary quieted down at the mention of the word horse. “Why?”

  “Because a horse trailer is big and heavy, and not just any old car can haul it around,” Harlan answered sensibly.

  Zachary’s forehead wrinkled with thought. Finally, his expression cleared and he got into the booster seat without further argument.

  Stacy shot Harlan a grateful look, surprised by how well he’d handled Zachary’s mini tantrum. Of course, compared to some of the doozies she’d dealt with over the past couple of years, this struggle had been nothing. She doubted Harlan would handle a full-scale Zachary meltdown quite as well.

  Zachary fell asleep on the short ride back to the ranch. Harlan waited in the living room for her while she put Zachary in his bed and soothed him back to sleep.

  Harlan smiled at her when she returned. “How are you holding up after all that mess?”

  “I’ve had better days,” she admitted. She still felt a little shaky, though the tremors had finally disappeared.

  He reached out and straightened her collar, reminding her that she was still wearing his jacket. She started to shrug it off to return it to him, but he stepped closer and caught her hands in his. He twined their fingers together, his touch heating the air between them until she no longer felt chilled.

  “You can’t stay here alone.” His half whisper should have sounded like a warning but somehow came out as pure seduction.

  “I’m not really alone. There are guards all over this ranch.” She hadn’t intended to answer in a low, sultry tone, but somehow, there it was. She cleared her throat, but it didn’t change a thing. “I’m okay.”

  “Maybe the bomb was intended for the governor, but we can’t know that for sure.” He let go of one of her hands and lifted his fingers to her face, brushing a tendril of hair away from her eyes. “You were also at the announcement in Austin. It was your car that was rigged for explosion.”

  “But the governor would have been in the car when it blew, not me.” It seemed to take a great deal of effort to focus her attention on what she was saying. Whatever his fingers were doing to the side of her neck was as distracting as hell. The shivers she thought had finally left her returned in full force, driven by heat rather than cold this time.

  “You said yourself you didn’t even know the governor was going to borrow your car until earlier this afternoon.” His finger traced lightly over the curve of her collarbone, sending a lightning bolt of fire straight to her core. She struggled to keep from closing her eyes and falling into his arms.

  She had to get herself under control. She couldn’t even remember what they were talking about.

  She tried to step away from him, but her wobbly legs rebelled, sending her into a backward free fall.

  Harlan caught her up in his arms, his body hot and hard against hers. His dark gaze scorched her, striking sparks along her nervous system. A muscle in his jaw worked furiously. “This is probably not the best time to suggest this,” he growled in that same sexy half whisper, “but I think I should move in to protect you and Zachary.”

  For a second, the suggestion seemed the most sensible thing she’d ever heard. Of course he should move in here. He belonged here.

  But that second passed, and the next brought doubts and fears crashing down around her.

  She pulled away from his grasp. “No. That’s a terrible idea. You know it’s a terrible idea.” She made herself look at him. “You know why.”

  “I’m the best person to do it. Zachary likes me. I like him. I’m working here anyway.”

  “You’ve already put guards outside my house. Twenty-four hours a day.” She felt as if the room were closing in around her, squeezing out all the air until she couldn’t draw a breath.

  “And still someone set a bomb under your car,” he pointed out sensibly.

  She walked even farther away from him, seeking relief from the drowning sensation. She couldn’t deal with this idea. She couldn’t. If he moved in here, she’d lose control and do something stupid, just the way she had when she let Anthony blow into her life and sweep her off her feet, against all good sense. And maybe that would be okay if she was the only one involved. Sometimes, mistakes could be worth the price paid.

  But she had Zachary to think about. Zachary who already liked Harlan more than he liked just about anyone else in his life, including her.

  She couldn’t let him pay for her mistakes any more than he already had.

  “There’s got to be another option,” she said aloud.

  “Will Zachary tolerate anyone else moving in?” Harlan asked.

  “You don’t even know if he’ll tolerate you.”

  “He already asked me to move in.”

  She spun around to look at him. “What?”

  “When you were talking to the deputies earlier, he asked me if I wanted to come stay with you. He thinks maybe he’d get to go riding every day that way. I could take him if you couldn’t.” Harlan’s smile seemed genuine. “He’s a bit of a plotter, your boy.”

  She leaned her elbows on the breakfast bar and buried her face in her hands. “You’re using my son against me.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Harlan said sharply, making her look up at him again. He pinned her with a fierce gaze. “I would never do that. Not to Zachary or to you.”

  “But you’re telling me this so I’ll let you stay.”

  “I’m telling you this so that you’ll understand why I don’t think giving you a different bodyguard will work,” he corrected.

  “I’m not seeing much distinction,” she muttered, even though she knew what he meant.

  “It’s just for a little while.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t know that. We don’t know who’s doing it or why. You said you don’t even know if the bomber is targeting Lila or me. There’s no way to know how many more murder attempts there will be. What are you going to do, quit your job and become my full-time bodyguard? How much will you charge?”

  He didn’t seem to have an answer. Somehow, his uneasy silence was more frustrating than his earlier confidence.

  She rubbed the aching spot over her right eye. “How certain are you that I need someone guarding me from inside my house?” she asked aloud.

  “Very,” he answered simply
.

  It was such a bad idea. She could see any number of ways things could go wrong if she agreed with Harlan’s suggestion. Most of them ended up involving mind-blowing sex and deep regrets. But what if she said no and something happened to Zachary? What if her son died because she was afraid she couldn’t resist Harlan for a few days?

  What kind of mother was she if she couldn’t put her son’s welfare over her fear of her own desires and weaknesses?

  “Okay,” she said, straightening and forcing her gaze to meet his. “You can move in. But we need to set up some ground rules.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I think I can guess one of them.”

  She didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. “We’ve already agreed that things between us would never work. I don’t think we need to test that theory in any way.”

  He frowned but nodded. “Strictly business.”

  “And you can’t make unilateral decisions about my safety or my son’s. You may be in charge when we’re at work, but in this house, I make the decisions. Understood?”

  “What if I can’t reach you for some reason?”

  She pushed herself away from the breakfast bar and approached him where he stood in the middle of the living room. “Then I’ll trust you to do what’s best for my son and me. But if I’m here to consult, you consult me. Don’t try to hide anything from me, and don’t try to overrule me.”

  His jaw twitched as if it caused him pain to agree, but he nodded again, moving forward to meet her halfway. “Fair enough. I’ll do all you ask. But there’s one thing I need from you.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, trying to pretend her body wasn’t straining toward him, aching to close the few inches of distance between them.

  He closed the distance for her, sweeping one arm around her waist. “You have to let me get this out of my system.”

  He bent his head and claimed her mouth in a hard, hot kiss.

  Chapter Twelve

  This is so, so wrong, he thought, even as he gave in to the fire licking at his belly and pulled her closer, molding her soft curves against his hard body until he lost track of where he ended and she began.