by Jeanne Adams
Later, as they lay spooned together, the suite quiet around them, the doors open once more, he heard her sigh.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Marvelous. No regrets, Caine. I wanted this."
"I did too, Dana."
She rolled within his arms and kissed him, a sweet, lingering, loverly connection. "I want to do it again, but we have to get some rest. I'm so relaxed," she said it on a yawn. "I could sleep till next week."
To his surprise, they did sleep. He was amazed at how deeply he went under. He couldn't even remember dreaming. It was just after dawn when his internal alarm roused him.
Waking next to Dana, Caine realized he'd slept the night through. To have even four solid hours, with no sudden awakenings was miraculous. To sleep without dreams? Restfully? Almost unprecedented.
Bracing himself on his elbow, he took time to enjoy the sight of her. She was deeply asleep, her hair fanning over the pillow in a lush wave. She was smiling, a satisfied expression.
Had they really made love? It seemed like a dream; a beautiful, wonderful dream. His body stirred, responding to her nearness, her scent.
He was about to wake her with a caress, see if she would consider a repeat, when a cry from Xavier had him leaping from the bed. He was into his jeans in seconds, and heading toward the boy, gun in hand.
Behind him, Dana had flung the covers aside and was throwing on clothes as she ran.
He reached the room first to find Shadow standing on the bed and Xavier thrashing in his sleep, crying out, "No, no, you can't."
"Hey, big guy, wake up," Caine urged, shaking Xavy. It hurt him to see the utter panic etched on the boy's features. "C'mon, we're here."
"You have to pick him up, sometimes," Dana said, coming to kneel on the bed. "I almost can't do it anymore, he's getting so big. Xavier," she called, trying to rouse him from the nightmare. "Wake up, honey."
The sound of her voice, sharp and clear, must have broken through the dream because the boy's eyes flew open and he turned frantically from one to the other.
To Caine's utter surprise and immense delight, Xavier leapt into his arms, sobbing about sharks, and the dangers of the nightmare world. Maintaining his hold on the crying boy, he reached out, found Dana's hand, pressed the weapon he still held into it.
"I got this," he said over Xavy's head, which was tucked under his chin. "Go on back to bed."
She looked momentarily lost, as if she didn't know how to act when her son didn't need her comfort. "You're sure?"
"Yeah, I know you could do it, but this time," he indicated the boy's quieting demeanor. "I think the guys can handle it."
She padded back the way they had come, stopping twice to look at him. Each time, he nodded and waved her on, the other arm wrapped firmly around the now-hiccoughing boy.
"Man, that was a wild one, big guy," Caine said, conversationally as he soothed the boy. "I've had a few of those. Got a whopper one time after I saw the second in the Alien series." And he really had. "Fell out of the bed, I was so scared."
"Get out," Xavier managed, through the hiccups. "You did not. You have to pay a dollar if you tell a story. An untruth."
Caine closed his eyes, resting his chin on the top of Xavy's sweaty hair. "Wow, steep price. But I won't have to pay 'cause I'm not lying. I did have a nightmare and fall out of bed."
"Cross your heart?"
"You bet," he said, making the gesture on his chest.
"I didn't fall out of bed."
"No, got me on that one. You want to tell me about it?"
"Yeah, Mom says it helps, and she's usually right."
"Moms often are. Here, scoot up, lean on the pillows."
They got comfortable and Caine slipped his arm around the boy, who, given tacit permission, burrowed into his side like a young bear.
"Comfy? Good. Now spill, it's got to be a good story."
They sat for a long time, with Xavy detailing the dream, then segueing into stories about his school and his friends.
"I'm afraid I won't ever see 'em again."
"Your mom's pretty set on it, and she's one of the most determined people I've ever met."
"I know. She's never told me a lie, she calls it an untruth," he said primly. "But I think this might be one of those times when circumstances change, don't you?" There was such despair in the young voice, that Caine's heart clenched, aching to make it better, knowing he had no right.
He could hear Dana saying those very words, in that very way, to appease a sorrowful boy.
"It may be, but she's stubborn. If she says you're going home, I wouldn't count it out."
"Really?" the boy was getting sleepy now, his words slurring as he struggled to stay awake and talk. "Will you come and visit sometime?"
Caine wasn't sure if Xavy heard his answer or not. When the boy began to snore, he decided it was just as well. For a long time, he sat holding the sleeping child. Reviewing the years, the blood and mistakes, he compared them to what it might mean to raise a child. Holding Xavier, Caine wondered if his existence had any meaning whatsoever.
Wasn't this the ultimate meaning? Calming the fears of a child you loved? Helping him to grow and learn right from wrong?
The concept of loving Xavier made him ease his arm away, slide out of the bed. He tucked the covers around the sleeper, and called Shadow up to watch over his young master.
The impulse to pull the curtains, stare out at the water, and seek his answers in the restless flow of the harbor's pulse was almost overwhelming. Ever cautious, he didn't go near the precious drapes. Instead, he went in to bed.
Dana was propped on the fat pillows, but her eyes were closed in sleep. It appeared as if she had been waiting to ask him about the nightmare, quiz him about the boy's reaction. Or worse, ask him why he'd bothered, when he would be gone so soon from their lives.
His body was loose, easy, from their lovemaking. His heart, that powerful organ, was aching, demanding he take this woman, this child, in and make them his. To renew his own life, change it, with them. For them.
Those were forbidden dreams, he decided, as he sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He tried in vain to shove them aside. They couldn't be a family. There was too much evil in him. He was too besmirched by the worlds he frequented, even in the name of justice.
Dana was too tired of running, vulnerable. It would be unfair to come into her life when everything was uncertain and mess it up any further.
And yet. And yet...
And nothing, he concluded in despair. He was a shadow among the shadows.
Even as the thoughts played in his mind, he got in beside her, drew her down with him. She didn't wake, but like her son, burrowed into his embrace.
A fierce need for her, like a wild, demanding, protective beast, rose within him, nearly choking him with its intensity. He admitted she was a match for him, but now, having made love to her, he had her taste, her scent. He knew her now, the way a wolf knew its life-mate, on every sensory level.
He never wanted to let her go.
A colder, saner part of his mind kept screaming that he had to pull back, to detach. He damned it to Hell. With her close in the circle of his arms, he willed it all away, along with the specter of Donovan Walker.
The subtle beep of his cell woke him less than an hour later. He managed to get to it, silence it before it woke Dana.
"Yeah?"
"New info and more," his baritone friend said. "This Web site. Twenty-four hours, no more." The standard www was followed by a string of letters, which he committed to memory.
"Got it."
"Later."
Still in bed, he listened for Xavier, but the boy was quiet. He let an another hour pass before he woke Dana. It was a sensual treat to see her surface to consciousness, her lips curving under his as she returned his kiss in full measure.
"Good morning," she said, her sexy voice deeper and more siren-like than before.
"Morning. I hate to say it, but we have to
go."
Her eyes cleared in seconds, sharpening into laser focus. She quickly rose, pulling her hair off of her face and into a ponytail.
"Xavy?"
"Sleeping. I got a call from my contact. He's got info for me. I need to get to a library computer. They're less traceable."
"Okay, do we pack? Are we coming back here?"
"Someday, I hope, but not tonight."
She looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. She avoided his eyes for a moment. He could tell that she was struggling with something. His heart, that silent menace, clenched in pain.
"I don't regret last night, Caine." Her voice was firm, her gaze level.
"I don't either."
"Good. But whatever this is ... was ... is, we can't let it get in the way of the ... mission ... protecting Xavier. But it was right..." She was twisting the covers in her hands. Whatever she was saying, she didn't believe it.
Her body language shouted regret. His soul iced over. He could see her pull away. He knew the reason. It was his darkness. His inability to give her what she seemed to want.
"I know."
"It's . . . difficult," she dropped her gaze, finally. "I don't do this, but... emotions, sex ..." Her words were jumbled, scattered. When she finally met his eyes, he saw pain there. "I won't put anything before Xavier."
It had been the moment then. For her.
He knew better, dammit. He knew better than to let people in, give them the room, the ability, to hurt him. He walked to the bathroom doors. He had to go, get distance. Now. And he hoped the shower would wash away . . . something. Everything. He doubted it would. He doubted anything would wash away the feelings she brought him.
"I can't put anything before Xavy." The safe harbor he thought he'd found disappeared in the wash of words.
"I understand." In the mirror beyond him, he saw the reflection of her bewilderment. He had no idea why she was puzzled. He didn't care.
He shut the door, and her, behind him and tried to drown his pain.
They left Chessie's before nine. TJ and Chaz loaded the truck and bid them goodbye. They hugged Xavy, and TJ slipped him something, she wasn't sure what.
Dana's heart ached. Caine had been ... different after their talk in the bedroom. Something she'd done or said had changed him, hurt him. She searched her mind, even as she was hugging TJ, saying her farewells.
That too confused her. She realized how much she trusted and admired her hosts. Her gratitude was waved away, but how could she begin to express that she'd felt normal. . . free, for the first time in years, under their roof?
Loving Caine had been magnificent. She still felt his hands on her skin, her breasts; felt the ache of her inner muscles, liberated from their long hiatus.
It made her smile. Her sexuality had never been in question, but her boy always came first. Caine understood that. He put Xavy first too. How could she not love that?
But what had she said?
"Penny for your thoughts," he said tersely, driving onto the ramp for I-95 South.
"I'm not sure they're worth the copper."
"Let me be the judge," he said. Anger colored his voice, puzzling the hell out of her. Why was he mad? "Spill."
The wheels beat a steady rhythm on the road as they drove. And she pondered how much to reveal.
"It's been a while for me. You know that."
"I guessed."
"It would be tempting to believe any emotions that arise are a result of... you know," she prevaricated, embarrassed. "They could be a false positive, if you will."
She was talking in code, as was he, dancing around the subject for Xavy's sake. From the corner of her eye, she saw her son rocking along to the beat of the music in his earphones, evidently paying no attention to the adult conversation.
She knew better than to trust that completely. He'd been known to eavesdrop a time or two, learning far more than she would have wanted for him to know.
"On the feeling front? You think it's fake?" There was a strange note to the statement. A coldness, and more of the fierce anger, the source of which she couldn't identify.
"No," she said patiently. "Just the opposite, in fact. I'm saying it might be false, due to the circumstances. Tension, being chased, lives at stake kind of stuff. And Xavy—"
He cut her off. "I get it."
Chapter Fifteen
When Dana started to ask just what it was he got, he glared at her, turned on the radio.
At the split to the 495, Caine took the western route toward Bethesda.
"Are we going to Bethesda?"
"No, Rockville. One of the library branches is right off the highway, easy access, clear exits. I can check the info and get out quickly."
"Ah." Now that he was talking again, she wanted to get back to what was bothering him. Maybe it wasn't her at all, she decided. Maybe it was this information.
"Maybe Xavier and I could take Shadow to a park or something. He and Shadow are getting antsy. Yesterday was good for Xavy, but he's used to being outside more."
"The way we did at the mountain house?" he said it with pain in his voice.
"Exactly, where we had so much—"
He cut her off again. It was pissing her off.
"I'll get the data. I'll find the nearest park, and we let the guys blow off steam. Ten minutes tops, though. Deal?" He didn't even look at her.
"Deal," she agreed bleakly.
"Hey, that sounds great," Xavier exclaimed, leaning over the seat. Proof, as usual, that she could never take the mother-guard off her tongue. "Can we find a place with some room to throw the ball for Shadow?"
"Yeah, you bet," Caine managed, a gruff note in his voice.
While Caine went in to the library, Dana filled Xavy in on the game plan.
"Can we get McDonald's?" he wanted to know. "I'm starving."
"Sure," she said, watching for Caine's distinctive, tall form. She scanned all the exits, knowing he wouldn't come out the one he'd gone in.
The set of his jaw told her that something dire had happened, but he said nothing.
"Got a line on burgers and directions to a park," he remarked as they pulled out of the lot and into traffic.
"Excellent," Xavier rubbed his hands together. "I could eat a horse."
"Dragon like horse," Caine rumbled, making Xavy laugh with delight. His strange attitude toward her didn't seem to be reflected in his feelings for Xavy. They played the "dragon like" game until they hit the McDonald's.
"What about Brussels sprouts? Do dragons eat those?"
"Bleeech, dragons do not eat Brussels sprouts. They want meat, young boy."
"Horse, perhaps?" Xavy giggled as they sat down. Unwrapping his cheeseburger, he waved it at Caine. "Looks like horse to me."
"Don't laugh. They serve it in the McDonald's in Paris."
"Grooosssss," Xavy commented, hastily swallowing a mouthful. "You're joking, right?"
"Nope. Frog legs too. And snails."
"Wow, France is gross."
Caine laughed with her at that, hut when their eyes met, he turned away.
The park was large, with a play set and huge open playing fields. They took Shadow to the nearest soccer area and began to throw the ball. To Dana's dismay, they were joined by another couple and their dog, a border collie.
"Hey Mom, check out Shadow, he's playing!" Xavier yelled, waving toward the romping dogs.
"I see."
"Watch this," the other father called to them. "Cul, go out." The black and white dog froze, then tore out on an intercept trajectory with the fluorescent green Frisbee the man flung his way.
Shadow, two seconds behind, but with a longer stride, nearly got there first. The boys clapped and laughed, Xavier playing with the other boy as naturally as if he'd known him for years. They tossed the disc, managing to keep it away from the dogs a scant four or five times out of ten. The dogs would chase each other until one of the boys took the Frisbee to start all over again.
Dana, her
heart aching, watched from the edge of the field. Her resolve, already firm, hardened to adamantine. If Donovan had to die to give her boy this, she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.
Caine and the other man joined the game, wrestling with boys and dogs in a whirling, barking mass of energy.
"Your husband really gets into it," the other woman remarked, smiling indulgently at the scene. "It's nice to see someone else do that too. Eb, that's my husband, he says you have to be an old-fart papa the way he is to know how short the time is that they even want to play with you."
"I agree." What the hell else was she going to say?
The woman held out her hand. "I'm Claire, by the way. Claire Upman. My husband's Eb—short for Ebbit— and our son, Tommy. He had a doctor's appointment today. Shots."
"Ugh," Dana commiserated, shaking the woman's hand. "I hate those days. I'm Sara. Sara Peterson."
"Good to meet you. I haven't see you around here. We're here a lot," she explained, laughing at the boys' antics. "This is just a quick trip as a treat before taking him in to school. But we're usually here every Saturday too. What about you? Playing hooky?"
"No, we're from Cumberland," she fumbled for the details. Dammit, she hadn't committed them to memory. She'd been too wrapped up in Caine. "We took a few days off for some travel. Family stuff," she improvised. "We're on our way home, but had to stop, let the boys get some energy out."
"I know that routine." She suddenly pointed, "Oh, wow, look at them go." The boys were chasing the dogs now. "Man, it's too bad you don't live around here. My Tommy doesn't usually jump in so readily. He's eleven but short and a little shy, so the older boys don't treat him like a peer, you know?"
"Yeah, but I'll bet he'll get a growth spurt before too long, show 'em all," Dana said reassuringly. It always amazed her how quickly women talked of personal things when meeting over children. She knew quite a lot of embarrassing information about Xavier's friends and their families, both from the kids themselves and from girl-chatter at PTA meetings or class functions.
"Oh, do you think so? I'm hoping he'll take after Eb. Your boy is ..."