“I can’t be certain because...” Miguel absently smoothed the pad of his thumb across a lock of Mikey’s hair, over and over.
“Because what?”
“Something seemed off at the debriefing center.”
“What do you mean by that?” The faraway look in Miguel’s eyes had her digging her fingers into her upper arms. How much psychological counseling had he received after his imprisonment? Miguel had nerves of steel, but conditions like he’d experienced, even though he wouldn’t tell her about them, would be enough to break anyone.
“What seemed off, Miguel?” She glided slowly across the room until she hovered above him, still seated on the edge of the bed.
“I felt like I was being held captive again.”
“That’s understandable.” She dropped her hand to his shoulder and squeezed.
“I escaped the compound in Maryland just as surely as I escaped from my cell in Afghanistan.” He threaded his fingers through hers and she felt the slight tremble of his hand. “Something wasn’t right at that compound, Jennifer—something or someone.”
“You’re scaring me, Miguel.” Was he imagining things? Paranoid? She untangled her fingers from his and stepped back, shooting a quick glance at Mikey.
A stab of guilt lanced her belly. Miguel wouldn’t hurt his son. He’d been nothing but tender with him ever since he rescued him from that burning room—and that fire hadn’t been the figment of his imagination.
His dark eyes flickered, and he pushed to his feet. “I don’t want to scare you, Jen. Maybe I never should’ve come back into your life. I probably led the bad guys—whoever they are—right to your doorstep.”
“That’s not true.” She pressed a hand to her hot cheek. “They’d already found me. They broke into my house. Th-they’ve been watching me.”
His head jerked around. “How do you know that?”
“I just felt it, even before the break-in.”
He curled a hand around her neck. “You need a safe place, you and Mikey.”
A safe place? Away from him? “I have to finish out the school year. There are two more days of class this week and the fifth-grade promotion the day after tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’ll get you through the rest of the school year.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Now you need to get to sleep. You and Mikey take the bed and I’ll bunk here on the couch.”
She drew her eyebrows over her nose. He wasn’t going to sleep with her his first night back? She’d dreamed of lying in his arms so many times over the past two years and now that she had him within her reach, he was slipping away.
Was it because he saw the doubt in her eyes?
He pressed his index finger between her eyes as if to flatten out her frown. “I’m not going to sleep. I’m going to keep watch over you and Mikey.”
“You look tired, Miguel. You need to sleep, too.”
“I’ve gone without a good, full night’s sleep for so long now, I don’t even know what I’m missing anymore.” He pointed to the bathroom. “You first. Go brush your teeth and all that.”
Ten minutes later when she came out of the bathroom, Miguel, sitting on the edge of the sofa, glanced up from his cell phone, his face drawn, his eyes hollow.
Jennifer forced a smile to her face and swallowed. “All yours.”
He turned his phone facedown on the table beside the sofa and jumped to his feet. “Crawl into the bed next to Mikey. I’ll be done in two minutes and then I’ll keep watch over both of you.”
As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, she rushed to the phone, grabbing it before it could go to sleep. She tapped the display and the most recent text message came to life.
As she read the words from Josh Elliott, one of Miguel’s sniper teammates, her heart did somersaults in her chest.
She was still clutching the phone when Miguel emerged from the bathroom, and she held it up to him, reciting the words she’d memorized.
“‘Mole. Don’t know how deep. Gunning for you—and Jen.’”
Chapter Four
A muscle in Miguel’s jaw jumped. “You read my text?”
“That’s all you have to say?” She waved the phone at him. “When were you going to tell me?”
“About the mole?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just found out.”
“I repeat. When were you going to tell me about it? Ever?” She tossed the phone against the back cushion of the sofa, and it bounced and landed on the floor. “You’re not back twenty-four hours and you’re already keeping things from me.”
Heat burned in his chest, along with the guilt. “Jen, this is different.”
“Really? Aren’t you going to tell me that I’m better off not knowing for my own safety? Why don’t you let me decide what’s best for my own safety? Were you planning to leave me again for my own safety?”
Clasping the back of his neck, he bit the inside of his cheek. The thought had crossed his mind that with him out of the picture, Jen would be safe, but Josh’s text indicated the mole was after Jennifer, too.
As she studied his face, her eyes grew round. “You were. You were going to leave us—me and Mikey.”
In two steps, he ate up the distance between them and pulled her stiff body into his arms. “I’m never going to leave you again. Yeah, I did think maybe you’d be better off without me back in your life, but I learned to be selfish in captivity. I’m not gonna let you go—not now, not ever.”
She struggled against him for a few seconds until he cupped her face in his hands and planted a desperate kiss against her lips. Then she seemed to go boneless in his arms, melting against his chest.
She pulled away from his kiss and whispered hoarsely in his ear, “Don’t ever leave me again, Miguel. I almost died when they told me you were dead.”
He massaged a circle on her back and rested his chin on top of her head, the honey-blond strands of her hair clinging to his beard.
She hooked one arm around his waist and slid the other hand up the front of his shirt, splaying her fingers across his bare chest. “Make it real. Let me know you’re back.”
Throwing a quick glance at his son’s sleeping form, Miguel stepped back from Jennifer’s searching hands. If he needed an excuse for not being intimate with his fiancée, that excuse lay in a flushed tumble on the bed. “Is this a good idea?”
Tugging at his shirt, she replied, “He’s not even two. He’s not going to know what’s going on over here even if he does wake up. And he won’t.”
All his muscles tensed, but Miguel tried to put a smile on his face. “If you say so.”
“I say so.” She bunched his shirt in her hands and yanked it up. “Help me out here.”
Holding his breath, Miguel pulled his shirt over his head.
Jennifer gasped.
Miguel crumpled his T-shirt in one fist. “Yeah, maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all. I probably should’ve warned you.”
Her fingertips traced the scars crisscrossing his chest. Then she nudged him with her hands to turn around.
“Not much better back there.”
She smoothed her hands across the various wounds on his back, exploring them as if committing them to memory. “H-how did you ever survive this?”
“By thinking of this.” He turned to face her and wrapped his hands around her waist. He slanted his mouth across hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth, where it did a familiar tango with hers.
He could do this if he just maintained a certain level of control. He wouldn’t allow himself to let go.
Jennifer wedged her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and yanked at his zipper.
“Mama.” A wail quickly followed the single word.
Miguel jerked back from Jennifer. What had
he been thinking? He could never maintain control with Jen.
She kissed Miguel’s chest. “Let me settle him. I’ll be right back.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and a few minutes later Miguel joined her, kneeling on the floor.
Mikey rubbed his eyes and let out another wail. Jennifer pulled him into her lap. “It’s okay, Mikey. We’re in a hotel, but you’re with Mama...and your daddy.”
A knot twisted in Miguel’s gut. He’d wanted to be a dad for so long, but the conditions couldn’t be worse. “Do you think he’s ready for that, Jen? Ready for me?”
“The sooner the better. Might as well get him used to the idea.”
“Doesn’t look as if he much likes the idea of a daddy.”
Mikey’s face had crumpled, and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks as he stared at his newfound father.
“He’s probably having a delayed reaction to that explosion in his room and the fire. He hardly had time to react before you swooped in there to save him. Now he’s waking up in a strange place.” She shrugged.
“With a strange man.”
“Not for long, Miguel. He’ll adapt quickly. Kids do.”
“We’re not giving him much to adapt to—a motel room instead of his home, most of his clothes and toys ruined.” He touched Mikey’s little fist, curled around a lock of Jennifer’s hair. “Has he had many men in his life?”
She sucked in a quick breath of air. “Dad and Mom have been to visit a few times, but Alicia’s husband, Troy, has probably been the most prominent male in Mikey’s life, since I see Alicia and Troy a few times a month.”
Her words left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t even like Troy, the husband of Jen’s best friend, and that guy had a more important role in Mikey’s life than he did.
Miguel met Mikey’s watery gaze and winked. He supposed he should be feeling grateful that Troy was there for Mikey...and Jen.
Jennifer kissed the top of Mikey’s head. “I’m going to change his diaper and try to get him to go back to sleep.”
“Can I watch? If I’m gonna be a dad, I’d better start learning the basics.”
“Of course. Nothing to it.” She scooted off the bed with Mikey clutched to her chest. Pointing to the corner where he’d stashed her bags, she said, “Bring me that green diaper bag. We’ll do it here on the floor.”
He strode to the corner and swept up the bag. He crouched beside her at the foot of the bed. “What do we need?”
“Changing pad in the side pocket, fresh diaper, wipes, a little tube of cream in the zipper pouch inside and a plastic grocery bag.”
He pulled out all the items she’d requested and lined them up on the floor, holding the diaper in his hand. “This looks like a complicated operation.”
“Only when he’s squiggly.” She grabbed Mikey’s kicking feet and pressed a kiss on each sole. “I’m going to start potty training him in about six months. Alicia said boys are slower than girls, but Bella was potty trained at twenty-six months.”
“If Bella can do it, Mikey can do it. Right, big guy?” Miguel poked Mikey’s belly with his finger, and his son rewarded him with a giggle.
Jennifer made short work of the task, and let him secure the fresh diaper into place.
He wrapped up the soiled diaper in the plastic bag and put it in the bathroom trash. Then he washed his hands and put everything back in its place in the diaper bag.
Jennifer had returned to the bed with Mikey and curled up beside him. “He’s still a little restless, so I’m going to cuddle with him until he falls asleep. Then we can get back to what we were doing. You got me all hot changing that diaper. Nothing sexier than a man changing a diaper.”
He shook his head. “That’s weird. Is the TV going to bother you?”
“Just keep it low.”
Miguel pulled his T-shirt back on and settled on the couch, clicking on the TV. He scanned through the channels until he found a news program and then glanced at Jennifer, her eyes closed.
Bending forward, he retrieved his phone from the floor and texted Josh, asking if he had any more details about the mole.
Josh responded quickly and Miguel read the text with growing dread. Josh had had some contact with Vlad’s people on Josh’s recent Stateside assignment, protecting the daughter of the drug kingpin Hector De Santos. Vlad’s guys had implied they had someone on the inside, and Josh had no reason to doubt that, at least he hadn’t wanted to bet against it.
Miguel clenched his jaw as he thought about Vlad, their nemesis. They’d been on Vlad’s trail when Miguel had been captured. He’d had a long time to think about a mole then.
Where had the SEAL team gotten the intel about Vlad’s location in those caves in Afghanistan? Through the Vlad task force? Was it just bad information, or was it very, very good information planted for the SEAL team, and him as the sniper, to walk right into an ambush?
Almost eighteen months later and after his escape from his captors, the CIA didn’t seem all that interested in finding out. Could this mole have infiltrated the top echelons? The task force itself?
Josh ended their text exchange with a curt directive. Watch your back.
Miguel tossed his phone on the cushion next to him, his gaze shifting to Jennifer, her body curved around Mikey’s, both of them sound asleep.
Miguel pulled his gun from beneath the cushion of the couch and hunched forward, watching the blue light from the TV flicker over Jennifer and Mikey. Instead of weakening him, his captivity had made him strong, hard—maybe too hard to be a family man.
But not too hard to protect them with every inch of his life.
* * *
A LITTLE HAND grabbed her nose, and Jennifer opened one eye while puffing a strand of hair from her face. “What are you doing, rascal?”
“Wake up, Mommy.”
“I’m awake.” She rolled to her back and raised her head. “Tell me you got some sleep on that couch.”
Miguel, showered and fully dressed down to a pair of scuffed cowboy boots, pushed up from the couch where he’d been perched. “I slept some.”
“How long has this one been awake?” She jerked her thumb at Mikey.
“Not long. Woke up, stared at me for a few minutes and proceeded to tweak your nose.” He stretched. “If I’d known it was that easy to wake you up, I would’ve used that method years ago.”
She ran her tongue along her teeth. “I remember how you used to wake me up...and I distinctly prefer your method.”
He gave her a tight smile. “What time do you have to get to school?”
She swallowed. Except for their desperate kisses last night, Miguel didn’t seem all that interested in picking up where they’d left off. “I have to be there at eight, but I need to drop off Mikey at his day care about fifteen minutes before that.”
“It’s close, the day care?”
“It’s a few blocks from the school.” She lifted Mikey and swung him over her head. “Can you watch him while I take a shower?”
Miguel’s eyes widened as his gaze darted around the hotel room. “This room isn’t babyproofed. Is it safe?”
Hooking Mikey on one hip and placing her hand on the other, she surveyed the room. “Don’t let him rip up the brochures on the credenza, keep the remote out of his picky little paws and, by all means, keep him away from the electrical outlets and the minibar. Otherwise, I think you’re good. I’ll change his diaper before I hit the shower.”
“Let me do that.” He took a step forward, holding out his arms. “I need the practice.”
She cocked her head to one side. “You sure would’ve come in handy these past eighteen months.”
A shade dropped over Miguel’s dark eyes and she bit her bottom lip. Miguel’s captivity had made him even more intense, but she couldn’t contain her own elati
on. Since his return yesterday, despite the challenges they faced, the heavy, dark cloud that had been following her around for two years had dissipated into fairy dust.
“I’m sorry, Jen.”
She went to him and placed Mikey against his chest, wrapping her arms around both of them. “Dear God, you have nothing to be sorry about, Miguel.”
“I should’ve never volunteered for that assignment.”
“I thought you didn’t have a choice. Besides, you did what you thought was right. You always do.” She brushed her lips across Mikey’s soft hair and then pressed them against the stubble on Miguel’s jaw. “Diaper duty for you.”
She spun around, blindly lurching for the bathroom, tears blurring her vision. When she slammed the door behind her, she hunched over the vanity and peered at her reflection. The woman who gazed back at her had dropped ten years since yesterday.
She knew she couldn’t expect Miguel to be the same person he was when he left her two years ago, but had his feelings for her changed? No. He’d told her she’d been the one keeping him strong, keeping him alive.
Did he really think she cared about the scars on his body? She snorted as she cranked on the water for the shower. Even though he’d lost a little muscle as a prisoner, he still had the hottest body she’d ever had the pleasure of exploring—scars or no scars. And she planned to do more exploration, damn it.
Maybe having Mikey in the same room had scared him off. She tipped her head back and let the warm spray course through her hair. He sure seemed eager to make up for lost time and learn everything he could about toddler care. Alicia’s husband, Troy, had probably changed a grand total of ten diapers in the past two years of Bella’s life.
The bathroom door burst open and Miguel’s voice rose above the water. “I think I need some help out here.”
Grabbing the edge of the shower curtain, Jennifer peeked into the bathroom at Miguel looming in the doorway with a squiggling Mikey tucked under one arm. “What happened?”
“First, he wouldn’t let me put his clothes on after I changed his diaper. Then he started jumping on the bed. When I tried to grab him, he crawled off the edge and fell on the floor.” Miguel took a deep breath. “I think he’s okay.”
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