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For Her Protection
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“Haven’t you ever done anything rash?” Jillian asked in mock exasperation.
“No. I’m not a ‘rash’ kind of guy,” Luke said. “In my line of work, ‘rash’ equates to dead. The reason I’ve lived this long is because I play out every scenario…and when all else fails, I trust my gut.”
“But your gut may not always be right—”
“Sweetheart,” he interrupted. “My gut is never wrong.”
Luke’s smile faded, and she felt the burning intensity of his gaze as he explored her face. They both knew what they were talking about now, and it wasn’t undercover police work.
His unspoken message was clear. The affair that they were contemplating was wrong. They shouldn’t even be considering it. But, in that moment, she knew she wanted him.
FOR HER PROTECTION
LAUREN GIORDANO
LAUREN GIORDANO
grew up in western Massachusetts, where she spent long summer days imagining she was Nancy Drew. She completed her first novel on a manual Smith-Corona at the age of twelve. These days her imagination still runs wild, but the stories flow easier on her computer. Since she started writing again seven years ago, her romantic suspense stories have won several writing awards. Lauren has also published several non-fiction articles in the area of public safety. She currently works in the field of risk and human resource management, and lives in Virginia with her husband and daughters.
To Mom and Dad, who always encouraged me to aim for the stars, and to Dan, who lifted me up so I could reach.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 1
If only she’d run the red light. Jillian Moseby darted a nervous glance at the man crouched in the passenger seat and willed her heartbeat to slow. The gun was still pointed at her.
“I won’t hurt you. Do exactly as I say. No sudden movements and no questions until we’re outta here. Got it?”
She nodded mutely. Dear God, don’t let him harm them. How could this possibly happen? She’d been in the bloody States for less than a week…and now this.
“Look in your rearview mirror,” he instructed. “Tell me what’s happening at the building on the corner.”
“Which side of the street?” She was surprised. Her voice didn’t sound completely terror-stricken. His, on the other hand, had been controlled and unwavering. Whoever he was, he certainly wasn’t panicking. Unlike her. And his eyes… Jillian supposed she should be grateful they weren’t glassy and wild from drugs or fear. No, the eyes watching her were the gold of molten metal and came with the most intense, scrutinizing stare she’d ever been subjected to.
“My side, one block back. Look close.”
“Uh, right.” She glanced in the rearview mirror, aware that his gaze followed her every movement. There would be no chance for escape. Not from this man. He wouldn’t miss a trick. Her hands tightened on the wheel, her gaze flicking to the back seat. Not that she could ever leave them behind.
It was a miracle how children could sleep through just about anything. Two sandy heads were lolled over, nearly touching in their side-by-side car seats. And James was sprawled out next to them. He was sleeping, too, thank God. She couldn’t take a round of his six-year-old’s questions right now.
She knew the golden-haired stranger hadn’t seen the kids yet. He couldn’t have. Why, he’d nearly jerked the door off the hinges when he’d dived into the car. Now he was crouched down so low, he was more on the floor than on the passenger seat. Obviously he didn’t want to be seen.
“What d’ya see?”
Jillian adjusted the mirror away from the children and angled it back so she could see the corner. “Three—no, four—men standing outside the building.” She winced when he cursed and prayed he would lower his voice. Another shout like that and he’d wake the babies.
“Two of them just crossed to the other side.” She bit her lip as the news caused another round of swearing.
“What now? Where are they?”
His tone was angry but not fearful, not really. He sounded more…frustrated that he was relegated to the floor of her hire. She had the awful suspicion he would rather be out there—in the thick of it. She shifted her glance from his tawny eyes back to the mirror. “Goodness. One of them is walking straight up the middle of the street. He’s looking into car windows.”
“Dammit. Watch the light. As soon as it turns, I want you to step on it. Don’t floor it,” he ordered, “or we’ll attract more attention. And don’t let him catch you looking at him or we’ll be in big trouble.”
“Oh, dear.”
“What? What the hell is it?”
His tone was definitely exasperated. She heard him cock the gun in his hand, felt his tension as he readied himself for battle and suppressed a tremor of pure terror. She wasn’t ready for the chaos of America. She’d been very happy living outside of London. Far outside, actually. Away from traffic and guns and violence….
Still, it might be best to reassure the lunatic before he started firing the bloody weapon with the babies in the back seat. Only a week ago she’d made a vow to Annie that she would protect them with her life. Who knew she’d be tested so soon? “He’s not here yet. He’s about four cars away…and he’s got a gun, too.”
“No kidding.”
She kept an eye on the traffic signal. They’d been sitting here forever. It had to change soon. Three seconds later she gunned the engine and the overburdened station wagon groaned, vibrating in protest as it lurched forward. She heard the stranger mutter yet another curse under his breath and was fairly certain his angry glare had something to do with her driving ability.
“You said floor it, so I did.” She shot him a scowl as his tension began to rub off on her. It evaporated a moment later when she saw his face twist with pain. “Are you all right? Can I drop you somewhere?” Compassion overrode her fear for an instant. Perhaps if she helped him, he would let them go sooner. “I’ve got a long way to go today and I really can’t afford to get sidetracked.”
“You cahn’t?”
“No, I—” She hesitated when she realized he was poking fun at her.
“Goin’ all the way back to England?”
“No. I’m traveling to New Hampshire. I’m starting a new job there.” She glanced cautiously to her right. His voice had an edge to it that hadn’t been there a few minutes earlier. “What’s wrong, now? You look a little green. Are you feeling all right?”
“No, lady. I’m not having one of my best days. Matter of fact, I feel like hell.” He ran one hand along his unshaven jawline as though he were uncertain of what to do next. The white lines around his mouth took on stark relief in his coppery, tanned face.
“I hate to ask, and I hope you’ll understand, but I really must know whether you’re a good guy or a bad guy.” She hesitated a moment and then plunged on before he had time to respond. “And if you are a good guy, then could you please point that thing away from me? It’s rather nerve-racking.”
His eyes registered shock and Jillian wasn’t sure if it was at her audacity or if he simply found her question too stupid to respond to. Whatever the reason, it had the desired effect. She heard a little click as he did something to the gun and pointed it at the floor.
“I’m…a good guy, I guess. Although I know I don’t look like one. I’m a special agent with the DEA. I’d show you my badge if I had it, but I’ve been working undercover, so you’re gonna have to t
ake my word on it for the moment.”
“What’s the DEA?”
“Drug Enforcement Agency. What you just experienced back there was a drug bust gone south.”
“Gone south?” Her gaze left the road for a moment to slide over his. She still hadn’t mastered driving on the wrong side of the road, so she didn’t let her eyes rest on him for very long. Just long enough to see the flash of an earring in his ear. A small stud that was nearly hidden by long strands of wavy, golden hair. He reminded her of one of the surfers she’d seen on the telly.
“Yeah, south. Fu— I mean, screwed up. Those guys back there weren’t supposed to get away. I thought I had ’em, but something went wrong. I was lucky to get out alive.” He shifted uncomfortably on the floor. His frame was so large she simply couldn’t imagine how he’d wedged himself in down there to begin with.
“You smell sort of…like you’re on fire.”
“That was the explosion.”
“Explosion? What explosion?”
“Jeez, lady. Try to stay in one lane, okay?”
She righted the car and swallowed hard. Her heart was lodged in her throat again. “I think you can come up now.” She checked the rearview mirror.
“Is this your car or a rental?”
“It’s a rental. Why?”
“I don’t want to get blood all over the seat.”
“Blood,” she cried as she turned to look down at him. Unfortunately the car moved with her and she careered across a lane of traffic before steadying the wheel. “Good Lord, you’re shot!”
“Dammit. Stop doing that or I’ll end up with a heart attack.”
“I’ve got to get you to a hospital.” Lord only knew what this would do to her schedule.
Jillian bit her lip and carefully glanced down at him. She shouldn’t be thinking like that. The poor man was shot. “Tell me where it is and I’ll take you there, straightaway.”
“No dice. Not till I know what went wrong back there. I can’t risk going to the hospital.” He stifled a groan as he tried to hoist himself up onto the passenger seat. “Just give me a minute to figure out what to do next.”
Her gaze ran over him, searching for the gaping hole she knew had to be somewhere on his body. “Where were you shot?”
The stranger groaned louder and finessed his large frame into the seat. “I suppose I should be grateful. I mean, I wasn’t wearing a vest or anything.” His sigh was one of relief when he finally eased back against the passenger seat cushions. “But it still hurts.”
“Where? You’re not going to die on me, are you?”
“No, lady. I don’t think I’m that lucky. He shot me in the ass.”
It took all the restraint she had not to burst out laughing. But the white line around his mouth and the beads of sweat on his forehead convinced her this was not a laughing matter.
“Who’s shot in the ass?”
The stranger nearly flew out of his seat before whirling around to find the voice. The blood had drained from his face when he turned back to face Jillian. “Sweet Jesus! You’ve got three kids back there. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Well, there really hasn’t been time yet. I mean, what with the guns and the chase thing going on.” She tilted the rearview mirror back to the rear seat and found James’s questioning eyes. “This is James, who is six years old and who is going to be very quiet for the next few minutes, right, love?”
James ignored her, turning to stare at the stranger. “Are you shot in the ass? Is it a big hole? Can I see it?”
“James! Please do not say ‘ass’ again. If I hear that word come out of your mouth, I will wash it out with soap.” She darted a reproving look at the stranger. “I would appreciate it if you could please curse more quietly. James knows better, but Samuel is only three.”
The stranger stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. And frankly, perhaps she bloody well had. Jillian had been thinking for the past several days that she truly must be crazy. To give up her comfortable, predictable life back home to face this…wilderness. She’d inherited not only a new country and a new job, but three small children to boot. And in the move, she’d lost Ian. He’d wanted no part of her adventure. Especially not the inheritance part.
“What’s his name, Jilly?”
Her thoughts interrupted, she turned startled eyes to the stranger. “Why, I don’t—”
“Gianetti. Lucas—Luke Gianetti.”
He smiled for the first time, a small, tight smile of pain and frustration. But oh, my. What a smile. Why, he’d be absolutely devastating if he put his mind to it. She’d bet he would clean up well, too. He desperately needed a shave and a haircut, although truthfully, his hair was such a wonderful shade of gold that he looked rather dangerous with it long and wild.
“And you’re Jilly?”
“Jillian, actually. Jillian Moseby.”
“S’nice to meet you, Jillian.” He reached across to shake her hand and she noticed he’d left the gun on the floor. He turned and waved over his shoulder to James. “Nice to meet you, James. What’s the other little one’s name?”
“That’s my baby sister, Sarah. She’s only four months old. She cries a lot when she’s not sleeping.”
Luke’s forehead wrinkled at that bit of news and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I see. Well, let’s not wake her up, okay?”
James giggled in the back seat and Jillian actually smiled. It was the first time since she’d arrived that she’d heard the little boy laugh or seen him fascinated by anything. Of course, it had taken an armed intruder with a gunshot wound to his buttocks to do it.
Luke’s suddenly intent gaze zeroed back in on her. “Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. The closest big city is Charleston. Let’s get out to the highway and zip up there. I’ll show you where to drop me and then you guys can take off. I’ll need your name and address, just in case I have to reach you about this case I’m workin’.”
“But what about your…wound? Will you be all right?”
He shrugged it off as though they were discussing a splinter. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Wow, Luke, can I see it? Before you leave, I mean?”
Luke shook his head in disbelief. “I dunno, kid. We’ll have to wait and see.”
Jillian followed his directions and soon they were cruising up the highway, north to Charleston and eventually all the way to New Hampshire. To a new life. One involving far more responsibility than she’d ever been charged with before. A new job and a new mother. To three children. How would she possibly hold it all together?
They’d travelled nearly thirty minutes when she remembered something Luke had said earlier. James had been peppering the poor man with questions nearly nonstop since he’d wakened. And, she was forced to admit, Luke had been very patient, taking the time to answer each one. Unfortunately, each question grew more gory than the last.
“What’s it like to shoot someone? Have you ever killed—”
“James, hush for a minute,” she interrupted. “What did you mean about that man back there?”
“What about him?” She felt the intensity of his gaze shift to her.
“You said we’d be in trouble if he saw us.” She made sure to hold the wheel in place when she turned, her glance seeking confirmation.
Luke’s eyes narrowed when he caught her troubled gaze. “And?”
“Well, he saw me looking at him in the rearview mirror.”
She sensed him stiffen in the seat beside her. “Are you sure about that?”
She nodded. “Very sure. It was just a tiny peek, actually. But his eyes met mine for a second before I could look away. It’s funny…he even looked familiar, but that’s rather impossible, don’t you think?” She felt the tension vibrating in him, felt it coil around her in the little car and felt her heart speed up in response. Her gaze left the road again. “Is that very bad?”
His face had gone tight, his features hardening like one of those ancient stone ca
rvings her father’d insisted she study as a child. “Get off the highway at the next exit. Do it fast.”
“Look, I appreciate your concern—truly, I do. But it was a terribly small glimpse and I simply can’t afford to get sidetracked. I’m not exactly sure how far New Hampshire is and I need to get us all settled before I begin my new job.”
“Lady, you’re not goin’ anywhere.” He glanced over his shoulder, craning his neck to get a look out the rear window, but not before giving James a nod and a quick smile. Then he rolled down the passenger window and readjusted the side mirror.
“I don’t think you understand—”
“Here. Get off here.” When she hesitated, he shifted in his seat to face her and she nearly shivered at the expression in his eyes. The mesmerizing golden eyes had turned flat and cold. Luke now appeared ready for battle. He looked…deadly.
“I’m taking you into protective custody. You will do exactly as I tell you until such time that I deem it safe to release you.”
“But—”
“Here.” He jerked the wheel to the right. “Now move it.”
Luke couldn’t believe the streak of bad luck he was having. First, the bust had gone haywire for no apparent reason. There had been no screwups on his end, of that he was damn sure. But the vibes had been off from the beginning, starting when he’d woken up this morning. Something had gnawed away at his gut and it hadn’t been nerves. He was ready for this op. Hell, it was a piece of cake compared to some of the others.
He’d infiltrated Sloan’s group without a hitch. Everything had been building to this day. Every piece of evidence. Every witness. Every damn buy he’d been forced to make. It had been smooth. Maybe that was the hitch. Maybe it had been too easy. Easy that was, until the moment he and Murphy had heard the rumbling of the building coming down around them. Then they’d run like hell. He knew Murphy’d cleared the building, had seen him and the Assistant Special Agent in Charge running for cover—
His thoughts were jarred by the shrill cries of a baby. Oh, yeah. Baby Sarah had quite a set of lungs on her. He shook his head and tried to block out the sound. His butt was on fire. That had been the second thing to go wrong. It was bad enough the bust had gone bad, but then to get shot, and in the ass, no less.