HER SECRET GUARDIAN

by Sally Tyler Hayes

  She should be grateful; she knew that. Instead it was one more thing that left her dying to know everything about him. It made her wish he wasn't so good at keeping secrets. Made her wish he wasn't likely to disappear again very soon, leaving her with no idea when she might see him again.

  * * *

  Sean was gone too long to suit her. Worry ate away at her. Dug into her. The air took on that odd sense of expectancy. As if the atmosphere were going to explode any minute. She wanted him back before that happened.

  Duncan kept talking, she suspected because he knew she was worried, and George was indeed a very annoying and ungrateful man. He must have been nervous, and normally Grace would have been sympathetic to his plight. But he kept coming to stand beside them every few minutes, just long enough to complain. He questioned every decision their rescuers had made, complained about all the hardships he'd endured since being rescued and whined about the fact that he was unaccustomed to being treated with so little respect.

  Grace was spitting mad by the third time she'd been treated to one of his tirades. "Reed told me not to let you have a gun anywhere near him," she told Duncan. "I can see why."

  "Hey, I'm a man of incredible self-control. After all, I haven't shot him yet, and we've been cooped up with him for days."

  She laughed. She did like Duncan, wondered what be would be like back in the real world. More polished, she suspected. Smooth. Elegant.

  "You can stop worrying, Grace," he said, nodding into the darkness. "There they are."

  She didn't see a thing at first, but they did indeed appear. Reed followed by Sean. She forced a smile across her face, didn't want him to see the sheer relief flooding through her. She wasn't supposed to care that much, after all.

  Sean smiled at her, took her hand and squeezed it. "Nothing to it, see?"

  "I'm glad you're back," she said. It was so much better, just having him by her side, and she fought the urge to snuggle against him.

  "How does it look at the docks?" Duncan asked.

  "Doable. We just need to know when to make our move," Sean said.

  "When?" she asked.

  "Soon."

  Grace looked outside. She had heard the wind, sounding like it was coming closer and closer with each passing minute. "We can't get out in the ocean in a boat in that."

  "No," he admitted. "But the storm's forward motion is picking up. It's going to move out. We'll go around dawn."

  That soon? she thought, wishing she could simply stop time, hang on to the moment, on to him.

  But she couldn't. It was time to exercise some restraint where he was concerned. She had to, for her own sake. She slipped away from him and excused herself, walking deeper into the cave, ignoring George altogether and sitting in the blackness in the back corner, needing to be alone.

  She sat there and listened to the wind, knowing that as soon as it died down, they'd be going. To steal a boat and get off this island.

  From there, it would likely be a whirlwind journey. She'd be home in London in no time, and God, she was going to miss Sean. She'd have to think about getting back to her real life. Or what passed for real life with her.

  The prospect wasn't that inviting. She had no idea what she wanted to do, she realized. For the first time in her life, she didn't want to go rushing back into the field. In fact, she didn't think she could. She'd been truly frightened for the first time by what happened in San Reino. The thought of going right back into that kind of situation again…

  Grace wasn't sure she could do it. It seemed she'd lost her nerve. Or maybe that she realized she had to stop running. That's what it was. He'd been right, she decided. She was running away, running through her work.

  If she didn't have that, she couldn't imagine how she'd fill her days. Fill her life.

  Loneliness settled in around her. Enveloping her. Seeming to smother her. It had never really bothered her before. She'd always had people around, just not that close to her. And that worked. Being busy had worked, as well.

  She had a feeling it wouldn't anymore, and she didn't know what she was going to do. She felt a bit like she had when she'd woken up in the hospital, after the explosion. Once she'd realized everyone she loved was gone. A sense that everything would be different from this moment on. She'd been through it all once. She knew how hard it was, didn't feel any better equipped to deal with it at thirty-one than she had been at eleven. Except, it seemed harder this time.

  Sean came and found her. Came to her through the darkness the way he used to, when she could see only the faintest impression of his face. He sat down beside her and slipped his arm around her, drew her against his side. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

  "No."

  "We'll get out of here, Grace."

  "I know. I trust you. Absolutely and completely. Do you have any idea what an amazing thing that is for me?"

  "You don't trust many people?"

  "I don't trust anyone. Except myself. I haven't let myself trust anyone else. Not for twenty years," she admitted. "But I trust you. I always have. Even when it made no sense at all. When I didn't even know your name. I knew if I was in trouble, you'd come. You'd save me."

  He just sat there for the longest time, his hand rubbing absently at her arm, his breath stirring the hair against her temple. "I won't let you down," he said finally. "Not in this."

  "I know, Sean. I do."

  "So what's wrong?"

  "We're leaving here," she said in the calmest voice she could muster. "We're going to steal a boat and then what?"

  "Rendezvous with a ship. There are several in the area. Someone back in the States is finding one right now that's willing to pick us up. From there, we'll get back to the U.S."

  "Oh."

  "You're coming with us, Grace."

  "All right."

  She could stay there, maybe have a few days with him while she pulled herself together. Or maybe she shouldn't. Maybe it wouldn't be wise – to be with him, even for a few more days.

  They sat there quietly, while she tried to memorize the feel of his body resting reassuringly against hers. She wanted to absorb this feeling, take it inside her and be able to pull it out later when she needed it, when she was once again alone.

  "I don't know how to say goodbye to you," she admitted. He sucked in a harsh-sounding breath, bent his head down closer to hers, and the next thing she knew, he'd lifted her into his arms, onto his lap, and he was kissing her, over and over again.

  Her body came instantly alive. There was no other way to describe it. He touched her, and she was suddenly, painfully, startlingly, blindly alive, after merely existing for so long.

  The need she had for him was like a fever, consuming her, burning her, making her dizzy and a bit irrational, she thought. Because at times like this, all that seemed to matter was getting even closer to him. Getting as close as humanly possible.

  She wanted him inside her, wanted his body to be a part of hers. Wanted him gloriously naked and gasping for breath, a fine sheen of perspiration running down the middle of his back. She wanted him utterly exhausted and spent and lying heavily on top of her. Nothing but a single, straining heartbeat between them as they lay there in each other's arms.

  She wanted to know him. Everything about him. Everything he hoped, everything he dreamed. She wanted to give him everything he wanted, everything he said he'd give her, if only he could.

  Could she make him happy? Would she be enough for him? Or any man? She'd never worried about that before. That she might want a man so desperately and simply not have the things he needed her to give him.

  He broke the kiss on a ragged sigh and eased her away from him. Only then did she realize she had a near death grip on his shoulders and there were tears running down her cheeks, his deep, harsh breath rushing across her mouth, because he was still so close.

  "Could I make you happy?" she said. "Would I be enough for you?"

  "Grace, you could be everything to me. Absolutely everything."

 
; "Then I don't understand. I know why I can't do this. I know why I shouldn't, but you…"

  "It's me, sweetheart. The problem is with me. Me and the things I've done. The things I still carry around inside of me. I wouldn't be any good for you. Not for long. And I would hurt you in the end. I know that, and I'm trying so hard to do the right thing here," he muttered. "But God knows I don't want to let you go."

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  « ^ »

  Grace didn't sleep. Sean held her for a long time, maybe thinking she was sleeping, but she wasn't. She lay there thinking of what it was like – drifting off in his arms, waking up with him beside her, his body all hot and hard and filled with yearning. For her.

  Maybe later, when she was back in London or wherever she went, she could sleep and dream of him, just like that. Maybe she'd see him again from time to time. Maybe she'd find a way to deal with her fears. Maybe someday, she wouldn't get absolutely sick inside at the idea of loving someone, of letting him come to mean nearly everything to her.

  Maybe she could trust the world enough to have children of her own, and a man would want her to have his child.

  Maybe.

  And what about Sean? What was holding him back? What was back there in his past that seemed to torment him so? Grace couldn't imagine. He was the strongest man she'd ever known. She would have sworn he could handle anything. It seemed, if he wanted her badly enough, he could overcome whatever it was. It would seem they both could.

  There was a way to overcome everything, if they both wanted it badly enough. Surely she could find the courage to take one more risk. For him. To let herself love him. Believe that they could build something together that would last.

  She was dreaming about it. Loving him, about smiling and laughing and being utterly alive with him, when he shook her awake with a hand on her shoulder and told her it was time for them to go.

  Grace blinked up at him, seeing his image in the faint light, so like the man she'd seen in her dreams over the years. She had trouble separating the dream from reality for a moment. Dazed, she just lay there with her hand against the side of his face, wanting to hold him there, never wanting to let him go.

  "Grace? Are you okay?"

  "No," she said, fighting panic now. "I don't want to lose you."

  "Nothing's going to happen to me," he promised. "Or to you. We're going to get out of here. Right now."

  She nodded, letting him think what he would. But she was talking about later, when they were safe. When she had to let him go. There were no easy choices here. Either she jumped off that tall, dizzying cliff and into the mist and let herself love him, tried to grab onto any bit of happiness they could find together. Or she had to let him go. There was no middle ground.

  Grace knew all about hard choices, situations where there were no good options, merely the lesser of two difficult ones. She wasn't the kind of woman to sit around and whine about why things had to be so difficult. She just coped.

  Which it seemed she had to do one more time.

  They hurriedly readied themselves for their escape. George was whining and sniffling and Reed was about to smack him. Grace checked the bindings on Duncan's arm and shoulder. She helped him to his feet and winced at the pain that rippled across his face before he gritted his teeth and smiled at her.

  "Oh, yeah. A real tough guy, aren't you," she said, needing any kind of distraction she could find this morning.

  "Anything to impress a lady," he claimed.

  "I'm impressed. I swear. But I don't know how you're going to make it to the boat."

  "He'll get there," Sean said. "Reed is going to baby-sit our buddy George. You two take care of each other, and I'm going to guide us to the boat. We need to stay low. To stay together and to move. Grace, I don't need to tell you to get your butt down if anybody starts shooting, do I?"

  "I've been shot at before," she reminded him.

  He didn't seem reassured at all by the fact, and he shot Duncan a look she wasn't quite able to decipher, probably something about Duncan keeping a close eye on her.

  "I'll be careful," she promised him, wondering if he was thinking about that old reckless streak of hers. She wasn't the fearless creature she'd once been. Maybe she'd tell him that, once they got out of here.

  There wasn't a spare moment to be had for her and Sean from then on. She donned her rain poncho, because while the storm had lessened a great deal, it was still nasty out, and off they went. It was slick, muddy, the path strewn with a thick layer of leaves and branches and limbs. As if someone had shaken every tree on the island at once and all of those things had showered down upon the ground. The wind was still fierce, the rain coming down hard enough to hurt.

  It seemed to take forever, but once they reached the edge of the clearing, she wished it had taken even longer. Milero's compound, a huge stone fortress, loomed in the background, carved into the side of a hill to the right. His marina was below them, in a cove that was anything but peaceful today.

  Boats were strewn everywhere. The storm, like a child throwing a tantrum with his toys, had tossed them all around and left them discarded here and there like trash. One was broken in two, one smashed against a line of palm trees. One was lying on top of another.

  Grace gasped when she saw the devastation. The dock had ripples and bulges in it, simply disappearing into the water at some points, and the ocean was gray and positively churning and swirling angrily, relentlessly. She didn't see how they could leave in that. It seemed suicidal to even try it.

  Sean signaled for them to stay put. They crouched behind the trees. Holding her breath, she watched the expanse of beach between them and the boat, looking immense, as he crept down to the dock. He went into the water, swimming a bit when he had to, then climbing out onto the next section of dock. There at the end, bobbing in the water and looking still seaworthy, was one boat. A big, sport-fishing vessel that seemed their only hope.

  She watched him disappear inside of it, and then held her breath when he didn't come out. Her nerves ate away at her.

  Reed said something into his radio, then crept back to her and Duncan.

  "Looks like we've got a ride," he said. "All we have to do is get to the dock. Sean's going to start the boat. I don't think any of Milero's men are out here right now, but if they're close enough, they'll hear it. So we have to move. When the engine starts, we head for the dock. All the way up to the section that's collapsed. Sean will pick us up there. Got it?"

  Grace nodded numbly.

  "If I tell you to take cover, do it. If I tell you to go, you go."

  "I will," she said. She could do this. To get to Sean.

  Duncan, his face ashen, gave her a grim smile. She hoped he could make it to the boat, and knew that if he did, it would be on sheer guts and determination alone.

  Time seemed to stretch endlessly then, each heartbeat like an eternity. She'd forgotten what it was like to be moving in the face of fear, to truly care whether she made it to see the sunrise once again. She didn't remember the last time she had anything she truly wanted to live for. Except Sean.

  He'd been that one bright spot in her life for so long. That one bit of magic and intrigue. She'd always believed he'd come to her one day, that somehow she'd get him to stay, finally get him to talk to her so she would understand everything about him. If getting kidnapped was what it took, she couldn't even regret that. At least, not if they all came out of it alive.

  But she thought of all the time she'd wasted, too, time she'd thrown away. She'd give anything to have just a bit of it back now. To live those days over again and make something of them. With him. She simply couldn't lose him now. Not yet. Not when they'd had so little time together.

  A rumbling sound shot across the water, seeming amazingly loud, even above the roar of the storm. She thought anyone for miles must have heard it and went to look behind her and see, but Duncan grabbed her by the arm.

  "Go," he said.

  She felt so exposed, so v
ulnerable, thinking any minute something would come drilling into her back. She was thinking of the expression she'd seen on so many dead people's faces, that look of utter surprise. Not even pain. There'd obviously been no time for that. Just surprise. She could go just like that.

  Grace ran faster. She was on the dock, which was swaying alarmingly, the wrenching sound probably coming from the waves trying to pry the dock loose from its moorings. She had to fight to keep her balance. Duncan was beside her. They were almost to the point where they were supposed to meet Sean. He was fighting to hold the craft there, close enough to the dock without slamming into it.

  When they reached him, Duncan told her to jump. She got dizzy just looking at the boat bobbing there in the water. He yelled at her again to go, and she did, landing hard on her hands and knees on the deck of the boat. Duncan came right after her, rolling on his side as he hit and swearing at what the impact must have done to his injured shoulder.

  Somehow, he got to his feet and went to take the wheel from Sean, who came to make sure she was okay. He'd just turned around to see where the others were when the first shots rang out.

  "Down." Sean shoved her hard onto the deck of the boat. He had a submachine gun in his hand and was already firing back. She didn't see much after that, just listened. There were shots. Everywhere. She was right beside him, could see his feet, his legs and not much else, as she lay on the deck of the rocking boat. She covered her ears, like a frightened child, and curled up into a little ball, trying to make herself a smaller target.

  And she was doing okay, was handling it, until Sean disappeared.

  She screamed and got up, thinking he'd fallen overboard in the rough water, maybe after getting hit by a bullet. She didn't see him anywhere.

  A moment later George came sprawling onto the boat, howling and screaming himself. Reed came right after him. The minute he landed on the deck, he grabbed Grace and shoved her.