The Bodyguard’s Baby

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The Bodyguard’s Baby Page 9

by Debra Webb


  “I’m okay,” Laura said stiffly. She clenched her hands into tight fists beneath the table. “I’m just not hungry that’s all.” She manufactured a dim smile for his benefit. “I’m sure it’s just the medicine affecting my appetite.”

  Nick moved back to his own chair then. “You’ll probably wake up in the middle of the night starved,” he suggested warmly.

  Laura nodded, struggling to keep her smile in place. He had gone to all this trouble for her, the least she could do was try to force down a few bites.

  Nick folded his napkin carefully and laid it aside before meeting her gaze again. Laura moistened her lips in anxious anticipation of what was coming next. Did he know something that he hadn’t wanted to tell her? Her heart butted against her rib cage. Something about Robby?

  “We need to talk, Laura,” he said quietly.

  Laura’s heart stilled in her chest. Adrenaline surged then, urging her heart back into a panicked rhythm.

  That penetrating gaze bored into hers. “I need you to start at the beginning and tell me everything.” He pressed her with that intense gaze. “And I mean everything. I can’t help you if you hold anything back.”

  This wasn’t about Robby. Relief, so profound, shook her that Laura trembled in its aftermath. “You’re right, Nick,” she said wearily. “There’s a lot we need to talk about.” She shrugged halfheartedly. “But I’m still not thinking clearly. Is it all right if we wait until morning when my head is a bit clearer?” Please let him say yes! Her emotions were far too raw right now, and she still felt groggy. She had to be in better control of herself before answering any questions. She might make a mistake. Laura couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing while under the lingering influence of the medication.

  “Tomorrow then,” Nick relented.

  Laura stood, intent on getting back to her room before he changed his mind. “I think I’ll have a bath and crawl back into bed.” She turned and headed for the door, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other without swaying.

  “Laura.”

  She paused. Laura closed her eyes and took a fortifying breath before she turned back to him. “Yes.”

  Nick sipped his water, then licked his lips. She shivered. “Don’t lock the door in case I need to check on you,” he told her.

  Irritation roared through Laura’s veins at his blatant reminder that he didn’t completely trust her. “Sure,” she said tightly.

  Her movements still spasmodic and somewhat sluggish, Laura stormed back to her room. She jerked off her clothes and threw them on the unmade bed. Once in the bathroom, she not only slammed the door, but locked it for spite. She was an adult. She could certainly bathe herself without incident, she fumed, as she adjusted the faucet to a temperature as hot as her body would tolerate. The warm water would relax her aching muscles. Laura grabbed a towel and tossed it onto the chair next to the tub. Her reflection in the mirror suddenly caught her attention. The shallow half-moon slash on her upper chest zoomed into vivid focus.

  The memory of the intruder who tried to kill her shattered all other thought. Image after image flooded her mind. Glittering pinkish eyes. The oddest color she had ever seen. The black ski mask. The glint of light on the wide blade of the knife. Her blood. Time to die, princess. Laura grasped the cool porcelain of the sink basin. She clenched her teeth to prevent the scream that twisted in her throat.

  You’re okay, you’re okay, she told herself over and over. You’re safe. Nick is here now. He’ll keep you safe. Laura drew in a long, harsh breath. She had to stay calm. You can’t find Robby if you’re hysterical all the time.

  The sound of the water filling the expansive garden tub behind her finally invaded Laura’s consciousness. She relaxed her white-knuckled grip on the basin and turned slowly toward the brimming bath. Cool night air caressed her heated skin. Laura closed her eyes and savored the coolness. Nick must have opened a window. She inhaled deeply of the fresh air. She would feel better tomorrow, be more clearheaded. And maybe tomorrow would bring news of Robby. Hope shimmered through Laura as she stepped into the tub. The sooner she took her bath and got into bed, the sooner she would go to sleep and tomorrow would come.

  Please, God, please let me find my baby.

  Laura turned off the water and settled into its warm depths. She closed her eyes and allowed the heat to do its work. Absolute quiet surrounded her, except for the occasional drip of the faucet. Each tiny droplet echoed as it splashed into the steaming water, the sound magnified by the utter silence. Laura softly moaned her surrender as complete calm overtook her. Tension and pain slipped away. Fear and anxiety evaporated as the warmth lulled her toward a tranquil state just this side of sleep. She was so very tired. So sleepy…

  She was under the water.

  Laura struggled upward, but powerful hands held her down. Strong fingers gouged into her shoulders. She opened her eyes to see but inky blackness greeted her. Who turned out the lights? Her lungs burned with the need for oxygen. She wanted to scream. Laura flailed her arms, reaching, searching, grasping at thin air. Mental darkness threatened. Don’t pass out! Fight! Her nails made contact with bare skin. She dug in deep. The grip on her loosened. She plunged upward. Blessed air filled her lungs.

  Laura screamed long and loud before her head was forced beneath the water once more.

  Chapter Six

  Nick loaded the soiled dinnerware and utensils into the dishwasher and closed the door. He braced his hands on the counter and stared into the darkness beyond the kitchen window. Tomorrow he would have to make sure Laura ate something. She wouldn’t regain her strength without food, and she would need all her energy to get through the next few days.

  She was going to have to make a believer out of Nick. Laura would have to prove to him that someone had tried to kill her and that a child did exist…somewhere.

  Laura’s child.

  Nick frowned at that thought. The idea had niggled at him for a while now. He and Laura had only made love once. If she did have a child, and if…he were the father—an unfamiliar emotion stirred inside him—that would make the baby…about fifteen months old. He would simply ask her the child’s age. He shook his head in denial. That wasn’t possible. If Laura had been pregnant with his child, surely she would have come to him for help rather than…

  Nick cut off that line of thinking. There was no point in running scenarios when he still didn’t know exactly what had happened two years ago. Nor did he know the real story about the events that led up to Laura’s disappearance. As soon as Laura was up to it, he intended to find out every detail. He would give her the benefit of the doubt on the kid. If she said she had a son, maybe she did. He couldn’t imagine what purpose that particular lie served.

  Unless, he considered reluctantly, she was suffering from the mental condition listed in the report from the hospital. Nick rubbed at the ache starting right between his eyes. And if she were in the hospital all that time, did that negate the possibility that there was a child? No point in working that angle until he had some word from Ian. In the meantime, Nick would just have to concentrate on getting some answers from Laura. He wasn’t going to bring up the medication either—unless she asked for it. He had an uneasy feeling about those damned pills. Besides, he needed her head clear if he planned to ascertain any reliable answers.

  Just another job, he told himself for the hundredth time. Nothing else. Laura Proctor was his assignment, and he damned sure intended to get the job done right this time. Getting to the bottom of this tangled mystery once and for all was the only thing that kept Nick here. That and his damned sense of justice. If there was any chance Laura was right and James Ed had set all this up…

  Who was he kidding? Nick had spent more than twenty-four hours monitoring James Ed’s house because he couldn’t bear to leave Laura under those circumstances. Fool that he was, he still wanted to protect her. Poised to push the dishwasher’s cycle button, a muffled sound made Nick hesitate. He quickly analyzed the auditory sensation
. A scream? Dread pooled in his gut.

  Laura.

  Nick bolted from the kitchen, shouting her name. Dodging family heirlooms as he flew down the hall, Nick ticked off a mental checklist of items in a bathroom with which one could hurt oneself. Razor topped the accounting. Nick cursed himself for not checking the room first. Why the hell had he allowed her even this much free rein? His heart pounded with the fear mushrooming inside him.

  He skidded to a stop outside the closed door and twisted the knob. Locked. “Laura!” he banged hard on the door. “Laura, answer me, dammit!”

  Water sloshed and something clattered to the floor. He could hear Laura’s frantic gasps for air between coughing jags. “Laura!” Nick clenched his jaw and slammed his shoulder into the door, once, twice. The lock gave way and he shoved into the dark, humid room. He flipped on the overhead light.

  Naked and dripping wet, Laura was on her hands and knees next to the tub. She struggled to catch her breath, water pooled on the tiled floor around her. An assortment of scented candles and a silver tray were scattered about near the end of the tub. No blood anywhere that he could see. Relief rushed through Nick. He grabbed the towel draped across a chair and, ignoring the pain roaring in his knee, knelt next to Laura. Gently, he wrapped the towel around her trembling body and drew her into his arms.

  Nick sat down on the edge of the tub and pulled Laura onto his lap. “It’s okay,” he murmured against her damp hair. “I’ve got you.” Nick swiped back the wet strands clinging to her face. “What happened, honey, did you fall asleep in the water?” Nick called himself every kind of fool for not considering that the drugs still in her system might make her drowsy again. His gut clenched at the idea of what could have happened.

  Still gulping in uneven breaths, Laura lifted her face to his. “He…he tried to drown me. I…” She sucked in another shaky breath. “I screamed…” Her eyes were huge with fear. “The window.” Laura lifted one trembling hand and pointed to the window. “He went out the window.”

  Frowning, Nick followed her gesture. He stared at the half-open window and the curtain shifting in the cold night air. “Why did you open the window? It’s freezing outside.”

  Laura drew back and searched his gaze, confusion cluttering her sweet face. “I didn’t,” she said slowly. “I thought you did.” She frowned. “He must have come—”

  “Now why the hell would I do something as stupid as leaving the window open?” he demanded, disbelief coloring his tone.

  One blond brow arched, accenting the irritation that captured her features. “But you thought I did something that stupid?”

  Nick shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he defended.

  “Sure you did.” Laura struggled out of his grasp, jerked to her feet, and promptly slipped on the wet tile.

  He steadied her, his grasp firm on her damp arms. Nick stood then, and glared down at her. He refused to acknowledge all the naked flesh available for admiration. He couldn’t think about that right now. “I only meant,” he ground out impatiently, “that someone opened the window and it wasn’t me.”

  She smiled saccharinely. “So, of course, it was me.”

  “Well, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around,” he said hotly. A muscle jumped in his tightly clenched jaw, adding another degree of tension to the annoyance already building inside him.

  Laura shrugged out of his grasp. “No joke, Sherlock.” She adjusted the towel so that it covered more of her upper chest, including the healing injuries from her last encounter with…who or whatever.

  Nick forced away the unreasonable fear that accompanied that memory. There was no evidence that anyone else was in the damned room but Laura that time either. The image of her naked body slammed into his brain, reminding him of what he had seen with his own eyes. Nick had memorized every perfect inch of her two years ago, tonight’s refresher had only made bad matters worse. She was still as beautiful, as vulnerable as she had been then.

  Focusing on the task to counter his other emotions, Nick stepped to the window, closed and locked it before turning back to a fuming Laura. “I’ll have to check the security system to find out why the alarm didn’t go off when the window was opened. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me exactly what happened,” he suggested as calmly as possible.

  “We’re wasting time,” she snapped. “Whoever tried to hold my head under the water—” she shuddered visibly, then stiffened “—is getting away.” Laura fanned back a drying tendril of blond silk. “You’re the one with the gun. Are you going to help me or what?”

  Nick released a disgusted breath. “Laura, there is no one else here.”

  “Fine.” She pivoted and stamped determinedly toward the door, slipping again in her haste.

  Nick reached for her but she quickly regained her balance and stormed out the door. His arm dropped back to his side. Now this, he mused, was the Laura he remembered. Sassy and determined. Grimacing with each step, Nick stalked into the bedroom after her. He snapped to attention at the sight of Laura shimmying into her jeans, the tight denim catching on the damp skin of her shapely backside. Apparently deciding time was of the essence, she had foregone panties.

  “What—” Nick cleared his throat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Laura yanked an oversized T-shirt over her head and turned to face him just as the soft cotton fell over her breasts. “I’m going after him.”

  Nick choked out a sound of disbelief. He braced his hands at his waist and shook his head. “No you’re not.”

  Laura stepped into her sneakers, plopped down onto the end of the bed and tied first one and then the other, her fiercely determined gaze never leaving his. If this was a war of wills, she need not waste her time. Nick could out-wait Job himself when he set his mind to it.

  “Just try and stop me,” she challenged as she shot back to her feet. Laura flipped her still damp hair over her shoulders. “I’m tired of being treated like I’m a few bricks shy of a load. And I’m sick of no one believing anything I say.” She walked right up to him. “Someone took my son. The same someone that’s trying to kill me.” She glowered at Nick, her eyes glittering with the rage mounting inside her. “You can either help me or get out of my way.”

  One second turned to five as Nick met her glower with lead in his own. When it was clear she had no intention of backing down, Nick’s mouth slid into a slow smile. What the hell? He could use a walk in the cold air after this little encounter. The image of her naked, shapely rear flashed through his mind and sent a jolt of desire straight to his groin. “All right. We do it your way.” Hope flashed in her eyes. “This time,” he added firmly. Nick stepped aside and Laura darted past him.

  “We need a flashlight,” he called out as she disappeared around a corner.

  “It’s in the kitchen. I’ll get it!” she shouted determinedly.

  Nick moved his head slowly from side to side. He had to be crazier than she was supposed to be to do this. It was late. Laura should be in bed. His knee hurt like hell, and he could damned sure use a little shut-eye. He had hardly slept at all the last three nights. But he couldn’t bring himself to deny her this. She was so sure…a part of him wanted to believe her. That same part that had fallen for a sassy, innocently seductive Laura two years ago.

  “Got it.” Laura almost hit him head-on when she barreled through the kitchen doorway.

  “Good,” he muttered. Nick followed Laura to the den but stopped her when she would have thrown the patio door open and burst out into the November darkness. “Hold on there, hotshot.” She cast him a withering look. “I’m the one with the gun, remember?”

  Laura blinked. “Right.” She stepped back, yielding to Nick’s lead.

  More for her benefit than anything else, Nick drew his weapon from its position at the small of his back. “Stay behind me,” he instructed. She bobbed her head up and down in adamant agreement. “And don’t turn the flashlight on unless I tell you.”

  Nick f
lipped the latch and slid the door open. Instantly, the cold air slapped him in the face, escalating his senses to a higher state of alert. He surveyed the backyard for a full thirty seconds before stepping onto the patio. Slowly, with as much stealth as possible with Laura right behind him, he made his way down the back of the house until he reached the window outside the bathroom that connected to Laura’s bedroom.

  “Give me the light.” Nick took the yellow plastic instrument and slid the switch to the on position. As thoroughly as possible with nothing but a small circle of illumination, Nick examined the area around the window. The window itself, the ledge, the portion of brick wall from the ledge to the ground, then the ground. Nothing. The window showed no signs of forced entry. With the ground frozen, there wouldn’t be any tracks, and the nearby shrubbery appeared undisturbed. Nick crouched down and examined the dormant-for-the-winter grass a little closer just to be sure. He saw absolutely no indication that anyone had been there, but with the current weather conditions that determination would not be conclusive.

  “Did you find anything?” Laura chafed her bare arms with her hands for warmth.

  “Let’s go back inside,” Nick urged. “It’s freezing out here.”

  Laura dug in her heels when he would have ushered her toward the patio. She lifted her chin defiantly. “You still don’t believe me.”

  “Look.” Nick tucked his weapon back into his waistband. “It’s not a matter of whether or not I believe you.” His grip tightened on the smooth plastic of the flashlight, its beam lighting the ground around their feet. “The fact of the matter is there’s nothing to go on—either way.”

  Nick caught her by one arm when she would have walked away. “If anyone was here, there’s no one here now and—”

  “Go to hell, Foster,” she said from between clenched teeth.

  His fingers tightened around her smooth flesh. “And,” he repeated, “there is no indication that anyone climbed in or out this window.”

 

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