Defiance

by Cherise Sinclair

  “All right then.” She took his hand. “We’ll go up later.”

  He gave hers a squeeze. “Yes. I’d appreciate that.”

  Needing to get the haunted look out of his eyes, she turned the subject to Sophia. How their daughter had danced to “Can’t Stop the Feeling,” and ended up looking like a squirmy worm. While trying to clap.

  Her after-bath, toweled-off dash through the house. Naked.

  That description got a grin…because Z had bathed his girl the night before with the same results.

  She told him about reading a book. When Jessica had imitated ducks with “Quack, quack, quack,” Sophia had bellowed out, “Whack, whack, whack!”

  The sound of Z’s laughter still had the power to send a thrill through Jessica.

  Maybe she should wait to tell him the news? Maybe she should give him a drink first. “I need some water. Let me get you a Glenlivet, while I’m there.”

  Relaxing back on the long couch, Zachary smiled as Jessica handed him a glass of scotch and settled beside him. “Thank you, kitten.”

  Her hair held the light scent of flowers, and when he kissed her neck, he could smell her fragrance, which was mingled with baby soap. She’d cuddled with Sophia before putting the imp to bed.

  Jessica loved to touch. She was like the kitten he called her, sensuous and responsive, a toucher and a snuggler. And full of attitude.

  To avoid upsetting her, he’d changed into one of the spare shirts he kept in the car. Seeing the bloody one wouldn’t have gone over well with her.

  How was she going to take hearing that someone wanted to kill her husband?

  He might have a doctorate in psychology, but there was no therapeutic way to dispense that kind of news.

  I got a death threat today? No, that’d be a poor way to start.

  I enjoyed a police station and ER visit today because someone shot me? Not a chance.

  I bought a new car seat on the way home and this is why? Never.

  He might be her Dominant in a sexual context, but they had equal footing during daylight hours. Mostly. Which meant he needed to suppress his instinct to protect her. She’d want to know he was in danger and that he’d been hurt. Shot. It was her right.

  After setting his drink down, he took her hands in his. “Jessica. I think there’s something we need to talk about.”

  She stared at him and scowled. “You know, don’t you? All those wicked psychological powers you have, and you looked at me and could just tell.”

  His thoughts weren’t merely derailed, but sent right off a cliff. “I could tell what—”

  “It was my breasts that gave it away, right? How big they’re getting again? Or…you told me you didn’t keep track of my periods, but you did, didn’t you?”

  Bigger breasts. Periods. A joyous warmth spread through him. “Pregnant? Are we having a baby?”

  Her smile could brighten an entire room. A universe.

  His universe.

  “Yes. A baby. A brother or sister for Sophia.” She threw herself into his arms. “Are you happy?”

  A baby. “It’s the finest present you could ever give me.” He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around his love. And someone new.

  There was a spark of life growing inside her.

  Awe enfolded him. Along with a heart-shuddering wave of protectiveness. His Jessica was one of the strongest women he knew, but…she was pregnant.

  There was no way he could tell her now that someone was trying to kill him, let alone that the man had nearly succeeded.

  Chapter Two

  The next night, Jessica turned over in their big bed. The Egyptian cotton sateen sheets were cool against her skin…because there was no warm body next to hers. No muscular arm anchored her to the bed. No hand cupped her breast.

  Z had disappeared from their bed sometime during the night.

  Just like he had last night. What’s going on, Z?

  Jessica slid out of bed and padded through the rooms. All quiet. The Shadowlands BDSM Club on the first two floors of the big stone mansion was closed on weekdays.

  The third floor was their family space.

  In the nursery, Sophia slept peacefully, her tiny hand curled up beside her face. Jessica’s heart melted at the sight…as it had every day for the last year and a half.

  But Z wasn’t in the nursery.

  He wasn’t in the living room or his den.

  In the kitchen, she noticed the backdoor security light was off.

  After grabbing a baby monitor from the kitchen table, she let herself out the door and went down the outside stairs to the patio.

  Rain pattered on the palms and tapped on the covered enclosure. In the distance, a barred owl hooted hopefully: Who cooks for you; who cooks for you all and received no response. Past the landscaped gardens, the faintest glow of dawn showed.

  Leaning against a post, Z was watching the diminishing night. Clad only in loose cotton pants, he was barefoot and bare-chested. A glass was in his lean hand, but he wasn’t drinking.

  The bandage over his deltoid was a white square against his tan skin. He hadn’t told her exactly what happened. “I got nailed by something sharp,” he’d said when they went to bed yesterday. Then he’d diverted her with his far-too-knowledgeable hands and kisses. Celebrating life, he’d called it.

  She huffed a laugh. Really, making love with Master Z should be called death-by-orgasm instead.

  Hearing her steps on the patio, he turned.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

  “Kitten, it’s too chilly out here for you. Go on back to bed.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  She hadn’t been cold until now.

  When he put his arm around her, she snuggled close. “What’s going on? You’re not sleeping. Are you worried about something? Is it because I’m pregnant?”

  Touching her cheek lightly, he shook his head. “No, Jessica, nothing like that. I couldn’t be happier about a new baby.”

  “Then what? Work?”

  “I wish.” He hesitated as if searching for the right words. “I don’t want to frighten you, but there are reports of a man with a rifle prowling around the area.”

  “Oh my God. Around here?” How creepy.

  “Close enough,” he said grimly.

  “That’s scary all right.” At least their home was safe. When Sophia was born, Simon Demakis, one of Z’s friends, had insisted on installing an extensive security system on the house and grounds, as well.

  She frowned. “Are you worried about me and Sophia? That’s why you can’t sleep?”

  “Indeed.” His arms tightened around her. “If you and Sophia could stay home for a few days until he’s caught, you would relieve my mind. The thought of you out on the road makes me uneasy.”

  She had a home office, and client interactions were mostly online these days. “I can do that.”

  “Thank you. Also, because of our isolation out here, I’ve hired a couple of guards to keep an eye on things.”

  “Isn’t that a touch excessive?”

  “Not when it comes to your safety, little one. And Sophia.” He touched her midriff gently. “And this new spark.”

  She let out a sigh. There were things that could be negotiated, but when it came to protecting family, Z was as movable as a mountain.

  He rested his chin on top of her head, simply holding her. Iron-strong arms, rock-hard body. As long as he was near, she never feared for her safety. But he released her. “Go on back to bed. You’re sleeping for two—and Sophia will be up soon.”

  “But…” Any other time, Z would have escorted her to bed and fucked them both into a good night’s sleep. Would have tied her hands to the headboard while he drove her crazy. He might have even gagged her under the pretext she shouldn’t wake the baby.

  Right now, they probably both needed the comfort of that intimate sharing. She leaned into him, letting her breasts press against his chest.

  And heard the monitor squeak. Sophia wa
s awake. Early. Didn’t that just figure? “All right.”

  Tilting her head up, he kissed her, slow and sweet.

  As she climbed the stairs, she glanced back.

  He was staring out into the rain again.

  Chapter Three

  The next afternoon, in their home gym, Zachary pushed the bar of weights over his head despite the way his biceps and triceps protested. Exhaustion pulled at his bones. When he rose to reduce the weight on the bench press, his muscles felt as if he was carrying lead weights.

  The lack of sleep since Monday was having an effect.

  Doggedly, he continued, moving to incline presses, then to military presses.

  He still had a couple of counseling appointments and would need to return to the office, but he’d wanted to see Jessica and Sophia.

  And, honestly, he’d needed a break in the day. Although he had a gift for communicating with and understanding non-verbal patients, over time, the pain of his patients soaked into him, accumulating in his soul. Being with Jessica lightened that weight.

  And the times when he got through to a patient made the burden bearable.

  Today, he’d reached a child. Seen her glimpse a bit of light through the wall she’d built around herself. For a moment, she’d stopped rocking, looked at him, and met his gaze. The abuse she’d endured at the hands of her own parents had been horrendous. If they hadn’t been behind bars, he’d have killed them himself.

  This week? Well, having a stalker made for sleepless nights and stressful days. Between the combat vets he was counseling and the threat to his life, he felt as if he was back in the Army Special Forces. Hypervigilant. Never able to relax.

  Corpses, gore, and screams haunted his dreams. Now the lifeless bodies he saw were those of Sophia and his Jessica. Dammit.

  He turned on the bench, chose a dumbbell, and started on biceps curls.

  Although he was trying to keep everything on an even keel, Jessica was worried about him. She had good cause, and he was wrong, in a way, not to tell her everything.

  If she were in danger, he’d want to know. Yet she could do nothing about the stalker except be terrified. She still had occasional nightmares from when human traffickers had kidnapped her.

  And now she was carrying their baby.

  A baby. A new life that they’d created between them. Was there anything more awe-inspiring?

  He shook his head. Normally, his protectiveness toward his wife and daughter was, perhaps, somewhat excessive. With Jessica’s pregnancy, it had grown out of bounds.

  His best move was to deal with the stalker as quickly as possible.

  Although the police were looking for leads, he’d gone ahead and hired his friend, Galen Kouros. The ex-FBI agent ran a private investigation company and had a talent for digging out information.

  When the security monitor beeped and displayed Galen’s car entering the parking lot, Zachary shook his head. Speak of the devil.

  A minute later, the buzzer on the garden gate sounded. Galen looked at the camera and held up a hand.

  Zachary punched in the code to open the gate.

  “It looks as if Galen’s here, Z.” Jessica stood in the door of the gym.

  “I’ll let him in. Thank you, kitten.” After wiping his face with a towel, he bent to give her a quick kiss. “Is Sophia down for her nap?”

  “Yes. Hedda just left.” Jessica smiled. “Our munchkin is all mine for the rest of the day.” Nearing sixty, the nanny stayed with Sophia mornings while Jessica worked in her home office. Jessica had admitted that, even though she loved her job, she also resented every moment the nanny was with Sophia.

  “Good enough. In a month or two, we might want to increase Hedda’s hours, kitten.” His two sons were in their twenties now, but he still remembered how much more work two children were than just one.

  At least this time, not being in the service, he’d be around to help.

  Jessica pressed a hand to her waist, undoubtedly remembering how big she’d gotten during her previous pregnancy. Trying to keep up with a two-year-old as well as work would be taxing. “We’ll see.”

  His super-wife who thought she could do it all. “I love you.”

  “You only say that in hopes I’ll get derailed from arguing. Nice try.” She gave him a quick kiss before heading down the hallway to her office.

  Chuckling, he walked across the house, through the kitchen, and opened the door.

  Briefcase in hand, Galen was climbing the steps. His Greek heritage showed in the black hair, black eyes, and olive complexion. Having given up the stereotypical FBI image, he was dressed in a white button-down shirt and black jeans.

  “Come in.” Zachary stepped back. “Can I offer you a drink? Jessica made iced tea, or we have soda, coffee, and water.”

  “Water would be good.” Despite living in Florida for the past few years, Galen hadn’t lost his Maine accent.

  Zachary handed him a bottle, took one for himself, and motioned toward his den. “Let’s talk in there.”

  Instead of the desk area, he chose the sitting area beneath the wall of books and took a seat on the long couch.

  “I saw you’re keeping your security system on.” Galen cracked open the bottle and took a chair.

  “Definitely. No one should be able to get onto the grounds without triggering an alarm. Our windows were already all one-way—because of the club being downstairs. But I have a couple of hired guards patrolling the perimeter as well. I gave them your picture so they wouldn’t use you for target practice.”

  “It’s appreciated.” Galen grinned. “Have you changed your routine as I suggested?”

  “That’s difficult. I have patient appointments that have to be kept—my office can’t relocate—and there’s only one road in front of this house.” Just the thought of Jessica on that road made his mouth dry. Zachary cracked open the bottle of water. “What have you discovered?”

  “Not enough. The people I’ve got tailing you report that no one has shown any unusual interest in you. The police say the same.”

  “I haven’t noticed anyone other than your people.” Zachary had felt as if he was leading a parade. Galen’s men. A bodyguard when he left the house. The two guards on the property.

  Jessica had been good about staying home, but her patience wouldn’t last, especially since she didn’t know about the severity of the threat.

  “You’re sure the shooter isn’t one of your current adult clients?” Galen asked.

  “I’m positive.” He’d know if a patient wanted to murder him. “Although my clients are often angry with me, it’s not a…killing…anger. It’s more the reflexive irritation of a badger disturbed in his burrow by someone poking at it with a stick. A defensive reaction, not offensive.”

  “Maybe you counseled someone badly, and they took it amiss?”

  “No, that doesn’t fit with the phrasing in the letter I received.” Zachary gave Galen a wry smile. “Now, the ‘you arrogant asshole’ could come from anyone who’s met me.”

  “Ayuh. Humble, you aren’t.”

  Zachary shot him a look. Maybe he wasn’t humble, but the arrogant label seemed unwarranted. “The sentence: ‘You’ll pay for what you did’ suggests something more than merely counseling someone.”

  “You haven’t done any business deals where someone would feel taken advantage of?”

  “No. Our money is in stocks and bonds.”

  “I’m sure I’d have heard if you upset anyone at the club.” Galen smiled, because his submissive, Sally, collected gossip like a magpie collected shiny objects. “Did you maybe send some poor bastard off to the loony bin?”

  “We mental health professionals dislike terms like ‘loony bin’.” Steepling his fingers, Zachary considered the question. “There have been a few cases where I felt a client endangered the people around him, and I had to take action. All of them thanked me later.”

  “How about unofficially? Did you ever turn one of your clients in to the police or…” G
alen pointed a finger a Zachary. “You’re thinking of something. What is it?”

  “About a month ago, I attended an event to raise money for veterans. Several active-duty Marines were there, and one… I talked with the man one-on-one for a while.” Zachary rubbed his face. “Contrary to popular belief, psychopaths can do well in the military. However, from his behavior—and what his teammates told me privately—he is very unstable, a danger to anyone who crosses him, not just insurgents, but also other military personnel and civilians. Since he was due to deploy soon, I mentioned my concern to his superiors.”

  “Did anything come of it?”

  “I assume he was evaluated by their mental health staff since I received an email from his captain, thanking me for the heads-up.” At Galen’s frustrated frown, Zachary smiled. “They couldn’t tell me more. That’s how confidentiality works.”

  “When it’s my personal information, I appreciate privacy regulations.” Galen scratched his chin. “When I’m investigating someone, I curse the regs up one side and down another.”

  “I understand. Here’s the man’s name.” Zachary wrote down the name of the Marine as well as the captain and handed the paper to Galen.

  “Hewlett Weiss?” Galen stared at the name. “By God, that name right there would be enough to make a man psychotic.”

  Zachary shook his head. “This is a long shot, Galen. In all reality, I don’t know how Weiss would have discovered I said anything.”

  “Like anywhere, the military is a small world. Secrets get out.” Galen rose. “I should have some answers for you later today.”

  * * * * *

  After returning to the downtown office for two counseling sessions, Zachary was late getting home. Because Galen had called.

  Weiss was the shooter.

  Apparently, his superiors had taken Zachary’s warning to heart, ordered a psychological evaluation, and the findings kept Weiss from being deployed. Probably permanently. The Marine loved to kill, and hearing he wouldn’t return to combat had sent him over the edge. That night, he’d gotten drunk and made threats about the asshole shrink who’d butted into his business. One Zachary Grayson.