BRINGING BENJY HOME

by Kylie Brant

  The fact that he was concerned about her didn't alarm him. Although at times she seemed to think otherwise, he was capable of some of the gentler emotions. Compassion and gratitude, to name a couple. But it wasn't those feelings that had him twisted up inside right now. It was his desire to shield her … to protect her.

  That scared the hell out of him.

  He wheeled around from his post at her door and paced across the plush carpet. Jaida West didn't need protection, and if she did, he wasn't the man to provide it for her. It was in his nature to want to protect his family, his friends. Jaida was neither. So why this concern about what the case was doing to her? Why these feelings of guilt for knowing that at the same time she was useful to him, she was also driving herself to exhaustion or possibly worse?

  When Jaida reopened the bathroom door, the bed had been turned down invitingly. Her eyes moved to the man sitting in a chair by it, watching her broodingly. Her steps almost faltered at the fierce expression on his face. She glanced at him warily, wondering what he was thinking. "I … guess I'll go to sleep now," she said tentatively, not understanding what was keeping him in the room.

  She slipped into the bed and was startled to have him rise and pull the sheet over her. Her eyes went wide and questioning. "I'm not an invalid," she said. Her words came out soft, and comforting rather than chiding.

  "I know."

  They shared another long look, then he mapped off the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. She could still see his shape, darkness against shadows as he returned to the chair he'd occupied earlier.

  "I thought … don't you have a room?"

  "I'll just stay until you sleep. Go to sleep, Jaida." His command was uttered almost soundlessly.

  Sleep with him in the room? she asked herself a little wildly. Somehow she didn't believe that was going to be possible. She was too conscious of him. But his presence was comforting. Her body fought with her for the sleep it craved, and she gradually began to lose the battle.

  Jaida's breathing had eased to a slow, even rhythm long before Trey stirred from the chair. His own room seemed cold and sterile in comparison with this one, the one where she lay sleeping. But his body was demanding the same kind of peace, a few blessed hours of unconsciousness before awaking to begin the search again. He stared through the darkness a while longer. Then he rose and silently made his way to her bedside.

  She'd worked one smooth shoulder free of the covers. He gently drew them back over her. His mind ordered him back to his room. His feet didn't move.

  He should have considered how traumatic the day in the huge theme park would be for her. Given her past, he wouldn't have blamed her for punching out anyone who suggested she put herself through that. And yet she'd willingly undergone the experience, and would do so again tomorrow. The woman must lack even the most basic sense of self-preservation to volunteer to use her ability to help others.

  Without conscious decision, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it carelessly to the floor. His shoes and socks were similarly disposed of, and his hand went to his jeans, then hesitated. Leaving them on, he padded around to the other side of the bed and slowly, gently, lowered himself down beside Jaida.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

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  In the morning, the indentation on the pillow next to Jaida was mute testament to Trey's presence in her bed. She stared uncomprehendingly at it, her sleep-sodden mind taking long minutes to interpret its significance. He had slept beside her all night. The knowledge that he'd lain there, like a guardian angel come to rest, sent an unfamiliar skitter down her spine. Why had he thought it necessary to keep vigil over her?

  She suspected she knew the answer to that. If she'd learned nothing else about the man, it was that he had a strong sense of responsibility. He'd been appalled last night after hearing her matter-of-factly relay the physical reactions she suffered in a crowd of people. It wouldn't take much of a leap for him to feel guilty for what she'd undergone for Benjy's sake.

  But regardless of his motivation, her heart refused to slow to its usual steady rhythm. She wasn't used to sharing a bed with a man, any man. And the thought of how close he had been to her during the long hours of the night was enough to keep her cheeks flushed all through the time it took her to shower and change her clothes.

  When she'd finished getting ready, Trey still hadn't made an appearance. Taking a deep breath, she knocked at the adjoining door, and obeyed his low command to enter. He was on the phone.

  Slow heat suffused her. He wore only a pair of wheat-colored jeans, and his attire, once completed, would be the most casual she'd yet seen him in. But it was what he wasn't wearing that had her gaze helplessly welded to him.

  He was shirtless and barefoot. She'd seen him thus only one other time, in the cabin they'd shared, and the memory had haunted her. His shoulders and chest were roped with sculpted muscles. He wasn't bulky like a weight lifter, but his sinewy strength was well-defined by the ripples beneath his skin. His would be the kind of coordinated strength that would allow him to move quickly, quietly, eliminating all obstacles in his path with ruthless precision.

  The thought of that powerful body sleeping beside her all night made her throat go completely dry. The idea of lying beside him while she was awake was erotic enough to rob her lungs of breath completely. And then he looked across the room at her, his forest-green eyes alight with awareness, as if he'd divined her thoughts and returned them with blatant interest.

  For one charged moment the rest of the world faded away. Trey's gaze licked down her body and back up, bathing her with heat. Her own eyes wandered over him, and remained at his waist, fascinated by the growing ridge behind his zipper.

  Knowing she was responsible for his very physical reaction was at once intoxicating and terrifying. With a gasp, she jerked around and made her way to the table, where breakfast awaited. She carefully kept her back to him as she feigned an appetite that had suddenly vanished. The one-sided conversation behind her resumed, Trey's voice sounding harsher than normal.

  The food was no more than lukewarm when he finally hung up the phone and joined her at the table.

  "You were talking to Mac?"

  He stared at her, his expression shuttered. She was taking great pains not to focus on him, pretending a normalcy he was far from feeling himself. He'd awakened in a state of semi-arousal from a night spent beside her. A night spent immersed in the scent of her hair, only inches away from her silky body. As torturous as the time had been, he knew he'd feel compelled to do it again. There was something about the woman that made him feel … protective.

  His brows came together at the completion of the thought. Guarding his emotions was a way of life for him, but somehow the woman beside him had slipped beneath his defenses. He'd never had a noble instinct in his life. A noble man would feel gratitude for the help she was giving to his family, the help that came at such a high physical cost. A noble man certainly wouldn't be considering taking advantage of her shy fascination with his body.

  He stabbed at his cold waffle with more force than necessary and answered her belatedly. "I've been on the phone for a while. And considering the time difference, I guess it isn't any wonder that no one was particularly pleased to hear from me."

  She did look at him then. "Anything new?"

  "Lauren has been given a clean bill of health by her doctor. At least," he corrected himself, "she's been told she can travel."

  "She's coming here?"

  He shook his head. "No, she's going somewhere safe. Mac has a place all picked out, and he'll be moving her soon. Today, I hope."

  "I don't understand," Jaida said slowly. "Her house … the estate her house is located on is about the most secure place I've ever seen."

  "It is secure," he answered grimly. "But its location may no longer be secret. If we're right believing that Benjy's wasn't a random kidnapping, the we have to consider that someone was watching Lauren, waiting for her to leave the confines of
her boss's estate. I've gone to great lengths to make sure that Penning has never found out where she's been living. I can't take the chance of leaving her there when it's obvious someone discovered her whereabouts. Not until I know the identity of the kidnappers."

  "You still haven't ruled out Penning?" she asked.

  Her even voice didn't fool him in the least. He chose his words carefully. "I know you're sure he isn't involved."

  "He isn't." The brief mental foray she'd made into the morass of Penning's mind had been vile and revolting. And very revealing. She wasn't wrong about him; she was certain.

  "I talked to the detective in charge of Benjy's case in L.A., and to one of the agents who's been assigned to Penning. There's still no sign that he's altered his routine at all." He gave a short laugh devoid of amusement. "The son of a bitch is actually planning a vacation with his parents when they return in a few days. They've got a place on the Cape."

  "I'm sure the agents have checked out the beach house, as well."

  He quit pretending to eat and studied her. "Yes," he stated deliberately. "It's empty." It took him only a few moments to divine the direction of her thoughts. When she would have pushed away from the table, he quickly caught her wrist. He watched her shiver at the sudden renewal of current that leaped beneath his touch. "That doesn't mean I don't believe you, Jaida."

  "Why don't you tell me what it does mean, Trey?"

  His fingers tightened around her wrist when she would have slipped away from him. "I know you're certain Penning isn't involved, but he's still the most likely suspect. Jaida." His voice grew harsh when she looked away from him. "Think about it. No one has tried harder than he has to find Lauren's whereabouts. He'd do anything for that information. Even if you're right, and I hope to God you are, and Penning knows nothing about Benjy, how can we be sure that whoever snatched the boy doesn't know Lauren's history? I can't take the chance that her location could be leaked somehow to her ex-husband, no matter what the odds are of that happening." She turned to look at him and he leaned closer, his intensity scoring his next words. "I've already lost my nephew. I won't risk my sister."

  Jaida stared into his eyes, and recognized the light of determination shining there. The tension seeped from her limbs. No one knew better than she did the load of guilt and responsibility this man carried. He had said he believed her instincts about William, and his words filled her with warmth. But he was a careful man, who mapped his strategy with methodical precision. He wasn't one to take risks, not with the lives of those he loved. "Until we find the kidnappers, we'll never know for certain, will we? And Lauren will have to continue to hide until you can assure her safety."

  Her words echoed his thoughts. No, not his thoughts exactly, because the fear that drove him wasn't so clearly formulated. Rather, it hovered in the recesses of his mind, haunting his every conscious hour. She could have been making an accurate guess, but he knew better than that. He released her wrist suddenly.

  She still surveyed him, a wistful half smile on her lips. The wrist he'd held crept up to her chest, and she covered it with her other hand, trapping the heat from his touch. "Lauren and her son deserve a life free from that kind of fear," she whispered.

  His gaze met hers, held. "Let's go find Benjy."

  * * *

  The day was gorgeous, with sunny skies and balmy temperatures. It was also a record-setting day for park attendance. Music was blasting from dozens of places. Characters dressed in period costumes strolled among the crowds. The White Knight and the Dark Knight, hero and villain of the park, patrolled the area on horseback, shouting challenges at each other.

  Trey and Jaida strolled through the crowds without talking. It took all of Jaida's resolve to keep her inner defenses lowered, when every instinct she had screamed to raise her guard against the sensory bombardment from the strangers surrounding her.

  Trey's all-assessing gaze continually swept the crowd. His powers of observation were instinctual. Yet today his behavior was subtly different. He took pains to remain close by Jaida's side, and it was some time before the reason was apparent. Finally, when he made a sudden move in front of her and she just narrowly avoided being jostled by a squabbling family of four, his motivation became clear.

  He was running interference for her. The knowledge almost stopped her dead in her tracks. She watched him for a time. When people threatened to come too near, Trey would appear in their path, cutting them off. A few times they would look up, indignant, but one glance at the tall grim-faced man had them swallowing their words and melting back into the crowd. His efforts were futile, of course. There was no way he could always protect her from the surge of the hordes. But the fact that he was trying so desperately made her heart melt.

  The walls of the stone fortresses that housed some of the park's star attractions were no less impenetrable than the one that guarded this man's emotions. Knowing that he was protecting her in this way made it easy to dream that he cared, just a bit. And that dream sustained her for a time, even as her reserves of energy were depleted by the huge mob of people.

  * * *

  "We should sit down," Trey said. The sun was directly overhead, glaring down punishingly. The attendance at the park had swelled to easily twice what it was when they'd arrived. They'd circled the entire area once and were about to commence again. Jaida had been showing considerable signs of strain. She had her purse on one shoulder and was clutching something in the bag she carried in her other with a death grip. Her face was chalk white. As he watched, she swayed a little on her feet. He quickly led her to a ledge surrounding a topiary and forced her down on it.

  He looked at his watch and mentally calculated the hours since she last ate. "You wait here," he ordered. "I'll get you something to eat."

  She shook her head fiercely, sensations bouncing inside her mind with almost dizzying speed. They flooded her in a tidal wave of outpourings, leaving her shaking as they ebbed. "He's here," she managed in a raw whisper.

  His face went still. "Are you sure? How can you know?"

  The sensations she'd been experiencing for the past hour were not something she could put into words. "I'm sure."

  He remained unconvinced. "You reacted each time we reached a place he'd been. How can you be certain…"

  Trey's words tapered off as slowly she withdrew the hand she'd had buried in the bag she was holding. Her fingers clutched Benjy's stuffed elephant. "Now?" The word was murmured like a prayer.

  "The schedule." She wet her lips and took a deep breath. "Do you have the schedule of the day's activities and a map of the park?"

  Trey quickly unfolded the schedule of events and handed it to her. Jaida tried to focus, the vision of singing and dancing characters whirling feverishly in her head. Her temples were already beginning to pound. "What time is it?" she asked.

  He checked his watch. "Five after one."

  One o'clock. The words rushed up at her from the schedule. She handed it back to Trey and pointed to the show time with a shaking forefinger.

  He reached for her and helped her rise. "Let's go."

  He guided her through the park, shielding her as best he could as they dodged the throngs. The grandstand they were headed for wasn't far away. But as Jaida glimpsed the hundreds of people bunched around it, her steps faltered.

  Trey glanced down at her with a frown; then, as he looked back at the mob, a grim expression settled over his face. "Here," he muttered, turning around and scanning the area. He gave her a gentle push. "Head over to that fence. I'll be back for you."

  She shook her head. "No, I'm coming with you."

  "The hell you are, Jaida." His voice was savage. "Do you think I don't know that just the sight of this crowd is making you physically ill? I'll handle this, but I can't protect you from this mob. So go over by that fence and wait for me." Not lingering to ensure she complied, he elbowed his way into the crush of people and was lost from her sight.

  She took a step in the direction he'd indicated, then hesitate
d. Turning back, she looked over the crowd, which had already swallowed him. The sensations rushing through the horde of people were unmistakable. Benjy was hidden inside that wall of bodies somewhere. His presence was pulling her, as inexorably as metal filings to a magnet. What if Trey wasn't able to find him before the show was over? What if the people who had his nephew simply drifted away before Trey ever neared them?

  Her teeth came down hard on her bottom lip, as compassion warred inside her with an innate need for self-preservation. The wall of humanity was as frightening as a nightmare come to life. It had been years since the scene in the concert garden. The time hadn't faded the horror. Trey would find Benjy. He had to. They couldn't get this close, only to lose him again.

  She wheeled around and walked deliberately away, toward the fence Trey had indicated. Her steps stopped after only a short distance. She turned her head, as if compelled, back to the crowd.

  Benjy.

  His name shrieked through her mind on a howl of desolate yearning. Her lips trembled in response; her heart raced. She stood uncertainly for a moment longer, her legs shaking with indecision. Then slowly, reluctantly, she retraced her steps and cautiously circled the crowd. She thought she caught a glimpse of Trey's dark head once, before the sight was swallowed by the mob again.

  Jaida took a deep breath, trying to fight the nausea rising at the thought of what she was about to do. And then with conscious effort, she walked into the crowd.

  * * *

  Trey used his superior size with ruthless efficiency. Ignoring the complaints and mumbled remarks about his rudeness, he shouldered his way into the middle of the throng. He scanned the sea of faces, looking for one small boy with a mop of dark hair and glittering green eyes. He bent down to look in each stroller, earning himself several gasps and more than a few obscene remarks. But when something finally caught his eye, it wasn't the black-haired little boy he was seeking, but a beacon of pale hair that reflected the bright overhead sun with blinding brilliance.