The Bride's Bodyguard Page 16

  Another pause. “And respect. And friendship. And, yeah…passion. Not just in sex, but…for life. You say you and Brent were the same, but sometimes same equals boring. As smart as you are, you should have someone who challenges you, someone you can fight with, someone who’ll keep you on your toes and make your life interesting.”

  She harrumphed. “Maybe I don’t want to fight with my husband. Maybe I like boring. Sometimes boring equals security and order. Maybe those things are more important to me than whether I have a great sex life.” She gritted her teeth, wondering how they’d gotten on such a personal subject. Wondering why she was so uncomfortable defending her position to Jake.

  Wondering if maybe she was getting a glimpse of Jake’s deepest yearnings cleverly disguised as a dissection of her life.

  Paige drew her bottom lip between her teeth, mulling that possibility. “And maybe that’s what you’re looking for in a wife. Someone passionate and interesting and spontaneous.” All things she wasn’t. With that realization, her heart sank. They might have sparks between them, but she and Jake had vast differences that made any future together impossible.

  “I’m not marriage material, so that’s a moot point.”

  He was shutting her out again, and after the intimate examination of her choices, his retreat raised her temper. “What does that mean, not marriage material? You think because you didn’t have a traditional family growing up, because the navy released you from combat duty, that somehow you’re unwanted or unworthy of a family?”

  “Leave it alone, Paige.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain.

  She remembered his head injury, and her irritation fled, replaced with concern. “Is your head okay? Should we take you to the E.R.?”

  He gave his head a small shake. “Naw, I’ll be fine. I’ve got a goose egg, maybe a cut, but it doesn’t hurt that bad. If I start showing symptoms of a concussion, I’ll let you know.”

  She stared at him skeptically. “Promise? You’re not just being the tough guy, playing through the pain?”

  He sent her a quick, stiff grin. “I’m fine. And we have more important matters to discuss than my reasons for not marrying. Like how to get that nanotube to Gates.”

  He narrowed his eyes and firmed his mouth. “Walking into the CDC offices and just handing it to him is not an option. Security at the CDC offices, the terrorists on our tail, the history of this case make that pretty obvious. I mean, Scofield had a rendezvous off the Jamaican coast set up for the transfer. And we don’t have the luxury of time to make the kind of intricate arrangements Scofield was planning.” Jake shifted restlessly on the front seat as he drove, and a tingle of apprehension nipped Paige’s spine.

  “But we can’t go off half-cocked either. We have to make a workable plan. Including contingencies.” The urgency she’d hoped to put in her tone sounded tremulous, more like fear. Yet she couldn’t deny Jake’s fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants approach was more than a little worrisome to her.

  Jake sent her a side glance. “Ever hear the expression, ‘Man plans, God laughs’? As you discovered today for yourself, you can’t plan for every possible twist of fate. It’s better to play it by ear.” He squared his shoulders, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “I know I failed Brent at the wedding. I know I failed you today when those goons grabbed you. But if you’ll trust me with this, I promise I will do whatever it takes to protect the nanotube from the terrorists. And I would die before I let them hurt you.”

  A chill slithered down her back. “I believe you.”

  But Jake dying in the course of this mission was exactly what she feared.

  Chapter 13

  That evening, Paige and Jake built their own campfire and shared a meal of tuna sandwiches and potato chips from the nonperishable supply of food Jake had bought earlier. As meals went, tuna was hardly gourmet, chips not exactly healthy, but Paige savored every bite of her dinner. Being kidnapped, facing death and losing her lunch had left her starving and more appreciative of simple things.

  Eating beside the glowing campfire with Jake made the food feel special, romantic.

  Until she thought of his declaration that afternoon. I’m not marriage material.

  She’d known as much about Jake, yet the reminder plucked at her, left her off balance and feeling empty. She shifted on the hard log-bench, but her discomfort had more to do with her conversation with Jake about the qualifications of her husband-to-be.

  “We should get a new rental car. The Wedding Crashers have seen this one—” Jake hitched his head toward the Taurus. “—and will be looking for it.”

  His comment snapped her out of her musings and back to the more pressing issue that faced them. For all his talk of playing things by ear, Jake was clearly in strategy mode. He sat on the ground with his legs crossed and his back propped against the fat log where she sat. His gaze was distant, meditative, as he stared into the fire.

  “Wouldn’t it be faster to fly to Atlanta? We still have some cash from the engagement ring for airline tickets.” She glanced at him then poked idly at the fire with a stick she’d found and intended to use to roast marshmallows later.

  “Airport’s probably being watched. Atlanta is only a day’s drive, and this way we have our own transportation, more control over our situation.”

  Paige nodded her agreement. The more control they had over the transfer of the ring, the nanotube, the virus, the better.

  A movement in her peripheral vision startled Paige, made her heart jump. She jerked her head toward the edge of their campsite and spotted Nate, the stray black cat.

  Paige took a cleansing breath. She’d been jumpy ever since they got back. Though Jake had assured her they hadn’t been followed, she didn’t feel as safe tonight as she had previous nights at the campground.

  She watched Nate creep forward, sniffing the air. His gaze zeroed in on her tuna sandwich, and he meowed plaintively.

  “Hey, Nate, ole boy. You want some of this tuna, don’t you?” she cooed softly.

  Jake snorted. “Is the Pope Catholic?”

  Paige shoved to her feet, went inside the camper to retrieve a paper plate and another can of tuna. After opening the can and dumping the contents on the plate, she carried her offering to Nate outside.

  The cat scurried back a few steps when she approached, although his nose twitched and his eyes were bright with anticipation.

  Paige set the plate down and stepped back. Nate blinked at her, then cautiously crept forward to eat. She backed away quietly, careful not to spook their dinner guest, and rejoined Jake by the fire. “The poor thing is starved.”

  Jake glanced toward the cat, who wolfed down the canned tuna. “I’m sure he finds plenty of scraps around here in the trash. And a wild cat like that is bound to be a good hunter.”

  “Maybe. I still feel sorry for him.”

  “Because you have a soft heart.” Jake wrapped his hand around hers and stroked her wrist with his thumb. The delicate caress stirred her pulse and sent heady sensations humming through her.

  The crackling of the fire, the chirping of the summer frogs and the sough of a light breeze in the leaves sang a lulling harmony. If she didn’t know better, she could almost believe that nothing existed outside the bubble of light created by their campfire. Almost.

  She watched Nate gobbling his dinner and savored the quiet moment. After wolfing down most of the food, the cat sat up, licking his lips, and regarded her with a satisfied look on his face.

  “He seems like such a sweet cat. He’d have made someone a good pet if he hadn’t been abandoned out here.”

  Jake’s only response was a grunt of acknowledgment, and when she turned to study his profile in the flickering light from the fire, she realized how much Nate and Jake had in common.

  Alone in the world. No family. No real home. Clearly needing the affection she had to offer but too scarred by their pasts to risk letting her get close. So much potential for love lost to a greater fea
r of getting hurt.

  “Heartbreaking…” she murmured.

  “He’ll be fine.” Jake dropped her hand to pick up a stick and poke at the glowing coals. “He’ll have a tougher life than a pampered house cat, but he’ll be okay.”

  Paige swallowed hard to clear the lump from her throat. “Will he?”

  Leaning back against the log-bench and stacking his hands behind his head, Jake met her gaze. “Sure he will. ’Cause there’ll always be another softy like you through the campground who’ll feed him and look out for him, even if they can’t turn him into a pet.”

  Paige felt her eyes water, and she jerked her gaze away.

  Nate stood and stretched his lithe body before giving a soft meow and trotting off into the night. There’ll always be another softy. But, damn it, what if she didn’t want him drifting from one soft heart to the next, rambling through life? Rootless. Searching. Never giving real love a chance.

  Maybe she wanted to be the one to tame him, give him a home, give him her heart.

  Paige bit her bottom lip and watched the cat disappear into the black shadows, realizing the one she wanted so desperately to share her love with…wasn’t Nate.

  It was Jake.

  Jake woke abruptly in the wee hours of the night with a pervading sense that something was not right. He strained to listen, thinking that maybe a suspicious sound had roused him.

  The crickets chirped. The frogs sang. A mosquito buzzed near his ear. All else was quiet. Still.

  Too quiet.

  And he knew what had woken him. Not a new sound, but the absence of Paige’s quiet snoring.

  He sat up and strained to peer through the dark camper to Paige’s bed. He perked his ears, listening for the light rasp of her breathing. Nothing.

  His pulse hammered, and he swung his legs off the bed and crept across the shadowed camper. “Paige?” he whispered harshly.

  No answer. Her bed was empty.

  Paige was gone.

  Every muscle in his body tensed. The panic that had consumed him earlier in the day when he’d seen Paige grabbed and thrown into the blue car swamped him again. Except a sharper fear sliced through him. This afternoon, he’d seen who took Paige, had been able to follow the car, had known he’d get Paige back somehow…whatever it took. Now, he had no leads. He’d slept through her disappearance. He’d failed her when she needed him.

  Pain ripped through his chest. Guilt and recriminations gnawed his gut. Fisting his hands, he began pacing the tiny floor of the camper. He had to do something, had to find her, had to—

  Jake paused and dropped his chin to his chest. Slow down. Think. Don’t let your emotions run away and blind you.

  Damn it, that was the problem. Where Paige was concerned, he’d been letting his emotions get in the way, distract him from the job he had to do. He swallowed hard, clearing his mind and gritting his teeth. She’d promised not to go anywhere without him, but…maybe she’d just stepped outside for a minute. Maybe she’d just gone to the bathroom, or…

  He flipped his wrist and checked his watch. Three o’clock.

  Would Paige have really gone anywhere in the dark woods in the middle of the night alone? Not likely, but he had to check.

  Wasting no time, he grabbed a flashlight and his gun and bolted from the camper.

  “Paige?” he called, not caring who he woke. He swept the beam of light around the dark campground as he hurried toward the bathhouse. His head throbbed, his bad knee ached, but he ignored the pain. Rocks and sticks jabbed the soles of his bare feet, but he wouldn’t take the time shoes required. Those seconds could be the difference between finding Paige in time or…not.

  “Paige?” He startled a deer grazing at the edge of the camping area. His own pulse staggered, and he quickened his step. “Paige!”

  As he neared the bathhouse, he heard two unmistakable noises. Water running…a shower.

  And a low moaning.

  Heart in his throat, Jake burst into the women’s bathhouse, following the noises. “Paige!”

  A gasp. “Jake?”

  He darted toward the shower stalls, gun up, ready.

  With a sweep of his hand, he shoved back the curtain of the first stall.

  Nothing. The second. Empty.

  The third.

  Paige screamed. Her eyes flew to the gun.

  “Do you mind?” she grated, her eyes flashing angrily.

  She was alone. Unharmed. Safe.

  Relief flowed through him so hard and fast it left his knees weak. He braced a hand on the tile wall, catching his breath. He set the gun and flashlight on the bench in the dressing area of the shower stall and tried to hide the tremble in his hands.

  Then anger flooded him as the fear receded.

  “Of all the stupid…” He aimed a finger at her, his rage tightening his muscles and making his head throb.

  “Jake, get out!”

  “I told you not to go anywhere without me! After today, I’d have thought the reason why would be painfully clear!”

  Her gaze returned the daggers he shot her. “Jake! Get. Out!”

  “Hell, Paige, do you have any idea what I thought when I woke up and you were gone?” He jammed a hand through his hair, while the mix of postpanic adrenaline and gut-grinding frustration seesawed sickly in his stomach.

  “I’m sorry I worried you,” she grated through clenched teeth, not sounding the slightest bit repentant. “Now, get the hell out of my shower!”

  He drew a breath to fling another accusing assault at her, but stopped. Like a dousing with icy water, her shouted command finally penetrated the red haze of anger and fear that had tied him in knots since he woke up minutes ago. He stiffened. Took a step back.

  And looked at her. Really looked at her.

  Her eyes were red and puffy from crying—the moaning sound he’d heard. He absorbed the misery in her eyes like a kick in the chest. What had made her cry? Why—?

  “Please, Jake…” She glared at him, but her pink-cheeked expression held something else…

  And then he dared to let his gaze drift from her face.

  Like a stunned child stating the obvious, his brain registered what he should have recognized sooner. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his fear and subsequent fury.

  She was showering. She was…naked.

  Paige had her arms crossed over her chest and her lower body turned ninety degrees, giving him a profile view. A sultry, curvy, mouth-drying view.

  His entire body tensed, and he stood paralyzed, mesmerized. Thrumming.

  He followed the rivulets of water that coursed from her wet hair, slicked to her scalp and hanging in thick ropes around her shoulders. The hot shower spray pounded her pale skin, the heat leaving her ivory complexion tinted with a rosy hue. Billows of steam swirled around her, creating a dreamlike quality to the erotic image she cast.

  Pounding desire stirred in his belly and spread fiery tongues through his blood.

  An alarm screamed in his head, warning him away, but his feet were rooted, his attention locked on the vision straight out of his sexiest fantasies.

  “Jake?”

  The trembling, quizzical quality of Paige’s voice, more than the sound of his name, brought his gaze back to hers.

  A puzzled frown knit the bridge of her nose, and her jade eyes searched his.

  Worried. Curious. Wanting…

  As he studied her face, trying to decipher the myriad emotions swirling in her eyes, her gaze gave him the same slow, measured scrutiny he’d given her. His bare feet, bare chest, boxer briefs that did little to hide his state of arousal.

  Damn. In his panic, in his rush to find her, he’d not so much as pulled on his jeans before bolting from the camper into the night. He was as good as naked himself. In a steamy shower. With a woman whose vulnerable green eyes and sensual lips had been tempting him for days.

  Double damn.

  “You’ve been crying,” he said inanely, his voice thick. Again with the childlike stating of the o
bvious. Good job, McCall. Brilliant.

  “I…kept thinking about…today when…well, I c-couldn’t sleep and…I didn’t want to wake you.” Her chin trembled slightly before she bit her bottom lip to stop it.

  Her eyes teared up again, and his heart squeezed until he couldn’t breathe.

  “I’m sorry, Jake.” He could barely hear her whisper over the whoosh of the water. “I d-didn’t mean to scare you.”

  He couldn’t answer. His mouth was too dry, his throat too tight.

  Her eyes flickered down his body again. Her pupils grew to large, dark pools, and desire glowed in their fathomless depths.

  Where before he couldn’t make his feet move, now he couldn’t stop himself from closing the distance between them. The shower spray soaked him as he slid a hand to the nape of her neck and drew her to him. He dipped his head and captured her lips.

  And he was lost.

  The touch of Jake’s lips sent the third shock in as many minutes to her overtaxed nerves—his sudden armed appearance in her shower, the realization that he, too, was virtually naked…and highly aroused. And now the electrifying jolt as his lips seized hers. The surge of energy, the crackling sensation that swamped her, short-circuited any semblance of reason or clear thinking. They must have. Why else would she be wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing the full length of her body against the hot, hard length of his?

  She curled her fingers into his hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Shimmering sparks shot through her and coalesced low in her belly. Her hips canted forward, straining toward his as the hot, pulsing need in her grew.

  A pleasured moan rumbled from her throat, and Jake answered in kind. She met the thrust of his tongue with an eager parry. A muddle of lust left her light-headed and blissfully muzzy. When her legs trembled, he folded her into his embrace, one hand sliding over her bottom to anchor her, the other splayed on her thigh.

  And still they weren’t close enough for her. She clambered to rise on her toes, to hook her leg around his hip. Sinking his fingers into her bottom, Jake scooted her against the tile wall and lifted her so that her hips were in perfect alignment with his. She rode the thick ridge of his arousal and gasped as powerful shock waves ripped through her.