Code Name: Nanny

by Christina Skye

  When Summer turned her head, she was finally free, but her jacket was still stuck to the cactus. Impatiently, she shrugged off both sleeves and scowled when the jacket stayed right where it was, impaled on the sharp spines. Ragged pieces of hair hung above the jacket, making a ghostly doppelganger in the night. “I’ve got cactus spines everywhere.” Shaking her head, she started up the flagstone path to the back door. “But at least I’m free for my round.”

  “You take the inside, I’ll take the porch and roof.” Gabe’s voice trailed away as he vanished into the darkness before she could speak.

  Summer inspected the ground floor, then headed upstairs. All the bedroom doors were closed and there was no sign of activity. After checking that the common windows were locked, she reset the alarm and left via the back door.

  Gabe was waiting for her on the porch. “Any problems inside?”

  “All quiet.” Summer frowned. “Except for my skin, which is howling from those cactus thorns. I’ve got to get these things out before I go crazy.”

  “There’s an old trick. I can show you.”

  I’ll bet you know all the tricks, Summer thought dourly.

  At the steps to his guesthouse she turned and kept walking. “’Night, Morgan.”

  “You don’t want any help?”

  “If I can’t handle a few cactus spines, I might as well hand in my badge. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She tried pulling them out with tweezers. She tried digging them out with a needle. Both ways were slow, painful, and largely ineffective.

  The final blow came when she brushed back a strand of hair—and ended up with tiny cactus spines scattered painfully across her face.

  Thirty seconds later she was hammering on Gabe’s door with her elbow.

  He took one look at her and stepped aside. If the man laughed, she was going to deck him.

  “You were right; I was wrong,” she muttered.

  “Not a problem. Sit in the chair by the desk.” Gabe vanished into the bathroom and emerged with a travel kit. He bent beside her and angled the gooseneck lamp, then shook his head. “You’ve got them everywhere. They must hurt like hell.” His hands were gentle as he tilted her face back. “Close your eyes and relax.”

  Relax?

  Summer took a deep breath, felt the light turn, warm on her face. Fingers brushed her brow.

  “Better start with your hands.” Gently, Gabe cupped her palm. “This shouldn’t be too bad. Only a dozen here.” Wielding a set of surgical tweezers, he worked methodically across her palm, pulling out spines of all sizes. When he was done, he cut a piece of electrical tape and pulled out the rest. “The tape’s the old Arizona secret. Let’s see your other hand.”

  As he spoke, Summer felt him wedge her body between his thighs. The man was amazingly strong, with defined muscles that made her just a little giddy. To make matters worse, when she looked up, his face was only inches away as he tackled an especially large spine.

  Her hip bumped his groin. When she tried to turn away, she bumped him again.

  His lips curved slightly. “If you’re trying to distract me, you’re succeeding.”

  Summer took a slow breath, keenly aware of his body holding her. “I’m not trying.”

  “You’re still succeeding.”

  She didn’t know what to say. The strange thing was that men’s bodies didn’t usually excite her. Usually intelligence and a sense of humor caught her attention first.

  But very few men had bodies like Gabe’s. He was dressed in well-worn navy sweatpants and no shirt, and Summer could feel every sculpted muscle like a blast of heat.

  Which was absolutely pathetic.

  She cleared her throat. “Aren’t you done yet?”

  “Three more.” He bracketed her body with his locked thighs. “These two along your neck may hurt.”

  Not as much as seeing his abs only inches away.

  “Hey.” Summer winced as he pulled a nasty black spine free. “How come you know so much about these things?”

  Gabe didn’t look up, angling the light down for a better view as he extracted another long barb. “I was born in Arizona. My parents moved to Wyoming when I was seven.”

  “When did you meet the senator? He told us that he’d known your family forever.”

  Gabe looked up and flashed a smile. “He’s got forty acres in Wyoming, right across the valley from the ranch where I grew up. He used to spend all his free time there. Of course, now he has no more free time left.”

  Summer tried to stop the odd, dizzy sensation of bubbles climbing up her throat. She found herself staring at Gabe’s callused hands, which was even worse, because she realized how gentle he could be, calluses and all. “It’s good that he’s taking Cara and the girls away to the ranch for a few days. They could all use some R and R. So it’s pretty nice, this valley of yours?”

  “Spring-fed lake. Mountains and white-water rafting. You can ride for four days and not see a single road.”

  “Ride an ATV?”

  Gabe gave an exasperated laugh. “A horse, woman. The only way to travel in the backcountry.”

  “Somehow I can’t imagine a techno guy like you on top of a horse.”

  “Some things are best done the old-fashioned way. From a saddle, you can feel the wind and smell the sap rise in the pine trees.”

  “You miss it, don’t you?”

  Gabe didn’t answer.

  Summer felt a burning pain at the base of her thumb. “Ow.”

  Gabe held up his tweezers, gripping a long, barbed needle. “Got it.”

  “No wonder it hurt.”

  When she started to stand up, Gabe stopped her. “Let me clean you up.” He opened an antiseptic wipe, dabbing it over her hands and neck.

  “I, uh, appreciate it.” Summer nudged him aside and stood up awkwardly. “Your help, I mean.”

  Gabe stood, too, cupping her chin. “Did you rub your face?”

  “Maybe. Why?”

  “You’ve got a needle on your lip.” Frowning, he ran his hand along her cheek. “Give me a second.”

  Summer was intensely aware of every inch of his body as he bent closer. “Get it,” she rasped.

  “Don’t move.”

  She closed her eyes as his finger skimmed the curve of her lower lip. Their thighs bumped and Summer’s heart began to pound. “Can’t you hurry?”

  She heard his breath still. There was a quick, sharp prick at her lip.

  Gabe cursed. “It’s bleeding. Your lip must be—” He cleared his throat. “Sensitive. At your mouth, I mean.” He leaned back. “Here’s a swab. Probably you can handle that part yourself.” His voice sounded strained.

  Summer grabbed the square of white cotton and jammed it against her mouth, then gasped in pain.

  “Watch it.” Gabe pulled the cotton free and brushed her lip. “You always do things the hard way, don’t you?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “And you don’t trust people very much, either.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Summer said stiffly.

  “Then why are your hands locked into fists right now?”

  “I don’t—” When Summer looked down, she was stunned to see that her hands were raised, fisted against his chest. She looked away. “Okay, so maybe I do have a few trust issues.”

  “Anything you want to discuss?” he asked quietly.

  Summer felt more zinging sensations in her chest. She realized his hand wasn’t quite steady at her mouth, and something shimmered to life, vague and powerful, drawing her closer.

  Abruptly, Gabe stood up and tossed the strip of cotton into the garbage. “You’d better beat it. You’ve got security rounds in fifty-three minutes.”

  Summer ran her tongue across her lip, which still stung. To her irritation, the fuzzy, disoriented feeling was getting worse. “Thanks.” Her gaze slid to his rumpled bed, where two pillows were pulled together in a mound, the blanket folded back in a crooked line.
/>   She could imagine him sleeping there, one arm behind his head and the covers half-off. She wondered what he would be wearing beneath that single thin sheet.

  Serious mental aberration.

  She turned stiffly, certain that her cheeks were bright red.

  “Summer?”

  She didn’t look around. “Yes?”

  “Call me if you need anything tonight.”

  Only a fool would have found a double meaning in those words. “I’ll be fine.”

  Summer closed the door stiffly. If there was one thing she had learned well, it was that relying on other people was a sure prescription for pain, and she had already had enough of that in her life.

  chapter 14

  A udra clung to Liberace, crawling along a high branch. She could see the wall, see her own window.

  Sweat crept down her neck. She was grounded now, thanks to her tricks on the new nanny. But if she were caught tonight, she’d be grounded for the rest of her life.

  If I don’t get caught, she swore, I’ll never sneak out again. Never ever.

  She had already lowered the ladder via her rope, and as she crept along the branch she noticed a light in the new nanny’s guesthouse. Gabe was still up, too, judging by the lights in his rooms.

  What if they saw her?

  Seconds later the window was open, and she helped Sophy cross the sill. After that, she set Liberace down, raised the ladder and stowed it away, then tiptoed across the floor, undressed quickly, and slid into bed.

  Audra’s heart continued to pound madly, but as minutes passed without discovery, she gradually began to slip into sleep.

  She was dreaming about surfing when a hand circled her arm.

  Sophy was standing near her bed, looking frightened. A big stuffed crocodile stuck out beneath her arm.

  “What?”

  “I can’t sleep. I had bad dreams again.”

  Audra sighed and sat up. “What is it this time, the big orange worms or the green talking cats?”

  Sophy stood very still. “This time it was a man. He was standing at the foot of my bed, watching me.” Sophy clutched her crocodile tighter. “Just watching.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Audra pulled back her covers. “Dreams don’t mean anything, silly. Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

  “But he was ugly.” Sophy slid into the bed, shivering as Audra pulled the covers back up. “And this dream was different. Important, like a warning.” She lay tensely, staring through the window at the mist. “Something’s going to happen, Auddie. I know it.”

  “Go to sleep,” Audra said impatiently. “Stuff like that doesn’t mean anything.”

  But Audra lay awake for a long time, watching shadows move against the lawn. Sophy’s dreams weren’t like other people’s dreams. Her sister’s dreams—the ones she called important—had a bad habit of coming true.

  With a curse, Gabe shoved back his blanket and checked his watch. Summer should be finishing her second security tour shortly, and then it would be his turn.

  She was one hell of a woman, Gabe thought grimly. Spit-shined and buttoned-down, hungry for action and a chance to prove herself.

  All job, she had told him. But there had been vulnerability in her face, just for a second, when he’d been working that damned cactus needle out of her lip. Gabe had found himself wanting to explore her lips slowly and see what it took to coax out a sigh of pleasure.

  He shook his head, fully aware that Summer Mulvaney was off-limits.

  Buck naked, he trotted to the shower and swung the elegant control bar until frigid water filled the air. He barely noticed the pain in his right knee or the stiffness in his leg. The scars from his last round of surgery were finally starting to fade, but he was still far from his full fighting capacity. With luck and some serious sweat, he’d be at eighty percent by the time this mission was done.

  After a quick shower, Gabe cut the water and did a slow knee bend. Ligaments tightened and muscle burned, but he savored the pain like an old friend. At one time he had despaired of recovering his mobility, and a SEAL with limited capacity was bound for a desk assignment or training responsibilities. Both were crucial tasks, but not ones that Gabe had joined the Navy to carry out, and the sooner he regained his range of motion and full strength, the sooner he’d be reassigned to the dangerous work he did best.

  Grabbing a towel, he dried quickly and dressed in black shorts. His knee burned as he pulled out a locked metal case, keyed the code, and located three documents. After studying two maps thoroughly, he unrolled a set of blueprints to the clinic in Los Reyes where Cara O’Connor had been a patient in 1986.

  The blueprints were dated 1983.

  He punched in a number on his encrypted cell phone and waited for the recorded message to click in.

  “Yeah, this is Morgan,” he said. “I need a large pepperoni with double cheese, so get your butt in gear and start cooking.”

  He glanced at the display and smiled when his phone rang five seconds later. “You’re late, Teague. I could be a dead man in five. What kept you—a hot date with a smoldering brunette?”

  At the other end of the line, Ishmael Teague flipped off the microwave communication prototype he’d been testing and said one gruff phrase in answer.

  Gabe barked with laughter. “Same to you, pal. I’d say in spades, but you’d probably kick me around the block.”

  “Damned straight. And it only took me three seconds to call back.” Izzy hesitated. “How’s your leg?”

  “Top-notch, compadre. No pain anywhere.” The lie flowed easily, but neither man believed it for a second. “I need an update on the clinic blueprints. I don’t want any surprises down in Mexico, so I need to know all renovations or structural changes that have been completed. And while you’re doing that hacker-magic of yours, see if you can scout out the placement of any security cameras and alarm systems. I should be able to spot most of them, but I’m taking nothing for granted.”

  Izzy chuckled. “You don’t want to be a guest of the Mexican Federales for the next ten years?”

  “Sorry, I’ve got better plans. As soon as I wrap up this mission for Senator Winslow, I’ve got two weeks’ leave and I’m chartering a boat in Tortola. Are you up for some sun, sangria, and a few adventurous ladies in search of a clothing-optional escape?”

  “Name the place and the time. Just get that leg of yours in shape first,” Izzy said quietly. “And you’ll have your blueprints in an hour or so.”

  “Show-off.” Still smiling, Gabe hung up. Ishmael Teague was a genius at finding things most people considered invisible. If any plans were available, he would find them.

  Focusing, Gabe sank into another deep knee bend. Remaining crouched, he ticked off the seconds on his watch.

  The burn grew to an angry throb as he approached two minutes, but Gabe gutted out the pain, blocking the memories of the high-altitude, low-opening jump that had gone wrong months before, landing him on a rocky slope rather than a deepwater lagoon off the coast of Australia. He’d nearly bought it on that jump, thanks to an inexperienced pilot.

  But Gabe Morgan was an expert at knowing his own limits. He took everything right to the edge, and was pale and sweating when he extended his bad leg into a lunge position.

  Experience had taught him that pain could be your friend if you let it, and his pain was going to get him strong again, back into the action where he belonged. With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes and kept right on counting.

  “Cara?”

  Pacing the room, Cara cradled her phone. She was too distracted to read and too worried to sleep. “I’m still here, Tate.”

  “Are the girls asleep?”

  “For an hour.” Cara stopped at a big glass table covered with photographs. She smiled at the picture of Audra tying her first fishing lure and Sophy riding her first bike. Memories washed over her in waves as she realized how soon her precious girls would be grown up, waving her good-bye.

>   “Honey?”

  “Sorry, Tate. I’ve just been thinking that I may take some time off. The girls need me now and I’m always missing some event or other. San Francisco can get along without me for a few years.”

  “You love your job, Cara. It’s not something you can walk back into easily.”

  “I know that.” She cradled a photo of Audra and Sophy riding horses on Tate’s ranch in Wyoming. “But it’s a possibility.”

  “You know I want you and the girls with me. But if I run, there will be impossible hours, endless stress, and more impossible hours.”

  Cara closed her eyes tightly. “You have to run, Tate. You’ll be our best president.”

  “You and my mother keep telling me that, but I’m not so sure.” Tate sighed. “I should probably go. I have a six A.M. conference call.”

  “Get some rest.” Cara’s voice was husky. “Think of me, wrapped around you.”

  “If I think of that, I’ll never sleep. By the way, I called Amanda and apologized abjectly for cutting her off. She suggests that you take the girls up to the ranch for a few days. I didn’t tell her that we’ll be there this weekend.”

  Cara smiled. Amanda Winslow’s charm was as legendary as her stubbornness. No mother had done more to further her son’s career or welcome a new woman into his life. “I’ll call her tomorrow and say we’ll set a day. The girls will love seeing her.” Cara smiled. “Did she ask you about my dress again?”

  “Only a thousand times.” Tate’s voice fell. “Forget about the dress and think about how much I love you. I wish I didn’t have to wait for breakfast to see you, so I’m going to turn off the light and think about when we finally stop this charade and sleep in the same bed.”

  The line went dead, and Cara put down the phone, listening to the silence of the house. For some reason the stillness left her uneasy, filled with fears too vague for names.

  Instead of sleeping, she decided to check on Audra and Sophy, then make sure that all the doors and windows were closed. FBI agents were trained, tough professionals, but no one could be as paranoid as a mother.

  chapter 15

  T he next morning, clouds piled in from the west as Summer turned up the front drive. Audra dumped her backpack on the seat and slid in, making room for Sophy, who carried Liberace in a cage. She’d pleaded with her mother for permission to take the pet to class for show-and-tell, but Cara had explained that ferrets were currently illegal in California. Though the regulations were based on misinformation, it wouldn’t do to flaunt them, and Sophy had finally agreed to take a stuffed corduroy ferret. It wasn’t half as much fun—but at least it wasn’t illegal.