Emily sat at his hip, with a wide cheeky grin. Morning, Daddy.
And just like that, his heart sighed. Sagging back against the mountain of fluffy pillows, he let out a shaky breath. Asada. Rachel.
Emily.
Revise. He was in hell. Morning, sweetness.
She wore cargo pants low on her hips, a tank top in neon yellow that made his eyes vibrate with the brightness, and held her laptop in her arms. She bounced a few times for good measure.
Didnt you sleep well? she wanted to know.
Fine. Not fine, not really. Late last night hed gotten a call on his cell phone from one of his editors. Theyd received a letter at the magazines head office, forwarded from his last job. Itd been handwritten on fancy, stiff, olive-colored paper. Im still going to make you pay, it had said.
Obviously Asada, but that itd come to Ben in South America gave him hope-Asada still didnt know where he was.
Or whom he was guarding.
When Ben had finally gotten into bed thered been the nightmares of Asada finding this precious woman-child right in front of him, of losing Rachel and Emily now, in the present, as hed lost Rachel so long ago.
Bounce, bounce. You looked tired, Dad. Bounce, bounce. Maybe you should sleep some more.
Bounce, bounce.
Em, youre scrambling my brain.
Sorry. She stilled-a momentary miracle, he was certain. Moms still sleeping. Wanna go out to breakfast and get artery chokers before I have to go to jail?
School isnt jail, Em.
This school is.
No luck getting your mom to home school you yet, huh?
None, she said on a dramatic sigh.
What are artery chokers?
Scrambled eggs, a mountain of bacon and the best hash browns youve ever tasted. Its at Joes, a sidewalk café right around the corner. Mom hates the place, but she doesnt know how to enjoy herself. Hopeful smile. Bounce, bounce. Oops. She stopped bouncing. Again. Sorry.
Cracking a glance at the clock, he managed to contain his groan when he saw three fives all lined up. Its not even six. In his bodys time zone-God knows which one that was exactly-it felt like the middle of the night.
Duh. Thats why Moms still sleeping. Come on, shell never know. Leaping off the bed, she grabbed his arm and tugged. We can get a milk shake to go with it, double chocolate. Theyre huge.
Ben rarely ate before noon unless it was a hunk of bread or cheese on the run. And itd been so long since hed been in the States, much less in a civilized country with sidewalk cafés that served huge chocolate milk shakes and artery chokers, he supposed he couldnt blame his stomach for quivering hopefully. Give me five minutes to shower-
Shower later. She pulled him out of bed, making him grateful hed pulled on a pair of knit boxer shorts before tumbling into bed the night before. The jeans she tossed him hit him in the chest, his shirt in the face.
Hurry. She bounced again, from foot to foot this time. Im starved.
Okay, forget the shower, but I still need two minutes.
Da-a-ad!
Two minutes, he repeated, putting his hand over her face and gently pushing her out of the bedroom, shutting the door on her.
Her sigh came through the wood. Ill wait on the porch. Two minutes. One hundred twenty seconds, okay? Not like Moms two minutes, which are really twenty.
Em, no. Not the porch. He didnt want her outside, unsupervised, ripe for a kidnapping. Wait inside.
Yeah, yeah. Two minutes, right?
Inside.
Gotcha.
He used half his two minutes to call for his messages, hoping Agent Brewer had checked in. After this latest letter, theyd promised to double their efforts, but there was nothing new this morning.
Ben brushed his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair. One glance in the mirror assured him he wasnt quite ready for a public appearance stateside. His hair was long and he needed a shave. His face seemed leaner than he remembered, and he had new lines fanning out from his eyes. Not laugh lines, given his life and what hed done, but hard-living lines. Artery cloggersyeah, he supposed he could use a few weeks of high-fat, over-processed food. Scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns with his daughter seemed like a good start.
Risking his last few seconds before Emily came looking for him, he left the bedroom and because he was an idiot, a glutton for punishment, his hand touched the handle of Rachels door, twisted it. Pushed. The huge bed was still, covered in pillows and comforters, with an unmoving lump beneath them.
He moved closer. Nothing of Rachel showed, so he gently pulled the covers away from her face.
Her head was covered by a handkerchief, her face creased in a frown, but after a beat, she relaxed back into the deep sleep of the exhausted, flat on her back.
Maybe she wasnt quite on her deathbed as Emily had led him to believe, but she was hurting, he could see it in the tight lines of her mouth, the delicate purple bruises beneath her eyes. All the painful injuries made her seem so vulnerable, which was hard to take because Ben remembered her well, and one thing shed never been was fragile. A pillar of strength, most definitely. Full of immense courage and pride, yes. Stunningly intelligent and mouthwateringly gorgeous, yes. Fragile, no.
It made him feel fragile in return, just looking at her.
Letting out a soft exhale, she turned to her good side, winced, then went still again. Her creamy shoulders were in view, as were the straps of that amazingly sexy pjs set hed put her in yesterday.
He let out a slow, slow breath. He hadnt allowed himself to think while hed had his hands all over her body, but he was thinking now. Shed been hauntingly beautiful at seventeen, but at thirty, her beauty had only ripened, deepened. She had the little birthmark on her right inner thigh. Hed noticed that yesterday. Hed loved that birthmark, had loved to put his mouth to it and-
And those thoughts were going to lead to nothing but trouble. As if he didnt have enough. He took one more long look, feeling like he was dying of thirst and she was a long, tall drink of water.
Once upon a time hed been ashamed of how much hed needed her, a woman whod prided herself on never needing another soul.
And yet she needed him now. She needed him now and didnt even know it.
She let out a little murmur, a half whimper, and broke his heart. Youre okay, he whispered, and lightly stroked a hand over her shoulder. Shed always had the softest, sweetest-smelling skin, and that hadnt changed, either. He let his fingers linger, as suddenly and rather desperately, he wanted his mouth there. Everywhere. Just sleep.
Beneath his touch, her response was instant and shockingly gratifying. She relaxed. Just because hed spoken.
The curve of her breast pushed at the top of the camisole, and he had to take his hand off her and stuff it into his pocket. Feeling like a pervert for wanting to touch her, he covered her back up, and reminded himself why he was in South Village.
Why he couldnt hop on the next plane out of it.
Turning away, he caught sight of a stack of mail on her dresser. At the mac and cheese celebratory dinner last night, right in this room, Ben had met Garrett, Rachels neighbor. Apparently he always brought in the mail for them. Ben had wondered darkly what else he brought Rachel, but decided he was a fool for caring.
He started to walk out of the room, but jerked to a stop when he caught a glimpse of an envelope sticking out of the stack of mail. The sight of the fancy, stiff olive-colored paper backed the air into his throat. With a quick glance back at the still sleeping Rachel, he slid the envelope out from the stack.
It was addressed to him, in the carefully scripted handwriting he was beginning to recognize all too well. The return address said simply Asada, South America, postmarked a few days prior.
A new letter. Recent contact. With the envelope burning his fingers, he moved into the hallway and ripped it open, his hand shaking as he skimmed the words: Ben, Worried yet? Frightened yet? Good, because were still not even
TOOK YOU FIVE minutes, Emily muttered when Ben finally came down the spiral steps. She sat cross-legged in the foyer, a long phone cord trailing across the floor to her laptop, which according to Rachel, she used to chat with her only friends-and cyber friends at that. She unplugged it and stood up. Next time take the pole down, its faster.
Hed taken the extra minute to call this latest letter in to his FBI contact. Right. The pole.
Ready?
He forced a smile. Yep.
They stepped outside. Ben checked and rechecked the front door lock as they stepped outside, then looked around with an eagles eye. There was a male jogger, a newspaper delivery guy on a bike weighted down by bags of newspapers and a woman in a sports bra and tiny shorts on in-line skates.
Nothing out of the ordinary for South Village, but the urge to wrap Emily up and tuck her away someplace safe for the rest of her life was strong.
Then there was Rachel. How he felt about protecting her was far more complicated. Shed once turned her back on him with ease.
And yet he found himself utterly incapable of doing the same.
Garrett sat on his front step reading a newspaper and drinking coffee, looking big and muscled and capable of taking down anyone he chose.
Ben sighed with resignation. You going to be there for a little while?
Garrett eyed him over the top of the paper. Yep.
Ben hitched a shoulder toward Rachels front door. Youll keep an eye out for a few?
Garrett looked at the house, then back at Ben. You expecting trouble?
I always expect trouble.
Garrett nodded. Ill keep an eye out.
Since neither Asada nor the bogeyman jumped out and announced themselves, he and Emily left the small front gate for the street.
Though it was still spring, this was Southern California, where there were two seasons-hot and hotter. Even at the crack of dawn Ben could tell the day would be on the fiery side of hell by noon.
Phat day, huh? his daughter said, and led him down the sidewalk.
Phat, he repeated, and made her laugh.
They passed a dinner theater and a do-it-yourself ceramic studio. And a shocking amount of people for just after 6:00 a.m.
Early commuters, Emily announced cheerfully. Did you know on the weekends were up to twenty thousand people walking through here?