He took his job seriously.

Nick stood at the foot of Laura’s bed and watched her sleep for several minutes. He closed his eyes and willed away the need to hold her. She looked so small and vulnerable. And Nick wanted more than anything to protect her, but could he do that? He opened his eyes and stared at the soft blond hair spread across her pillow.

Laura had almost cost him his life once before. But that sure hadn’t kept him from hanging around when his assignment was technically over. Giving himself credit, there was more to his being here than simply bone-deep need and desire.

Something wasn’t right with this whole picture.

One way or another he would get to the truth. He owed it to himself…and he owed it to Laura. He simply couldn’t walk away without looking back. No matter what had happened in the past. He just couldn’t do it.

The Bodyguard’s Baby
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually, she met and married the man of her dreams, and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985, they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998, her dream of writing for Harlequin came true.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Laura Proctor—Her child was missing, and she can’t prove that he even exists. Can she stay alive long enough to find him?

Nick Foster—He has been burned once—left to die by the woman he trusted. Now she needs his help, but can Nick risk his heart to her again?

Victoria Colby—The head of the Colby Agency. She allows Nick to take Laura’s case despite her misgivings.

James Ed Proctor—The governor of Mississippi. Does he love his sister or does he only want her trust fund? He stands to gain the most by Laura’s death.

Sandra Proctor—James Ed’s wife. She has always been good to Laura, but Sandra has one too many deep, dark secrets.

Ray Ingle—The Natchez homicide detective who has worked with Nick in the past. Can he help Nick and Laura when it really counts?

The Stalker—Laura is worth a great deal to him dead. Who hired him? What has he done with Laura’s child?

Ian Michaels—A Colby Agency investigator. No one at the agency is better at digging up the facts than Ian.

This book is dedicated to some of the people I love most—my family. Erica, Melissa, Tanya, Johnny, Chad, Chris and Robby, you mean the world to me.

A special thanks to Robby for being the adorable inspiration for Laura’s child.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

Victoria Colby studied Nick Foster’s handsome profile for a long moment as he stared out the wall of glass that made up one side of her office. Nick kept his dark hair trimmed at precisely the perfect style and length, fashionably short, to accentuate his classic features. His attire received the same attention to detail. He dressed well and in a manner that drew one’s eye to the breadth of his shoulders and the leanness of his waist. He looked more model than investigator.

The man was a perfectionist, personally and professionally. In this line of work those traits could be a definite plus. Victoria had worked hard to make the Colby Agency the best in the business. And carrying on the dream that had driven James, her beloved late husband, was all that mattered to Victoria now.

The Colby Agency was much more than just another private investigations firm; it had a staff second to none. All personnel recruited and employed were on the cutting edge of their field. And Victoria made it a point to see that they stayed at their best, physically and mentally.

Victoria cleared her throat, unnecessarily announcing her presence, and crossed the thick, beige Berber that carpeted her spacious office. Nick was probably aware of her the moment she stepped off the elevator. He missed nothing. “Good afternoon, Nick,” she said, smiling pleasantly as she settled into the chair behind her desk.

“Victoria,” he returned warily before taking the two steps necessary to reach the overstuffed wing chair in front of her desk. “You wanted to see me?” He grimaced slightly as he lowered his tall frame into the chair, but quickly masked the pain of the old injury and relaxed fully into the supple leather upholstery.

“Yes,” she confirmed. Victoria had dreaded this meeting all day, but there was no putting it off any longer. She had noted the deepening lines around his mouth, the darkening circles beneath his eyes. The man was on a full-speed-ahead trip toward crash and burn. Firming her resolve, Victoria began, “Nick, we’ve worked together for five years, and I know you too well to pretend any longer that nothing is wrong. I’ve watched the change in you over the past two years. You haven’t been the same since—”

“I do my job,” he interrupted sharply, his assessing green eyes growing more wary.

“Yes,” Victoria agreed. “You’re a valuable asset to this agency. You do your job and more.” She understood all too well what Nick was attempting to do. She had been there. After losing James she’d buried herself in work, too. “And I’m sure you’ll understand that what I’m doing now is my job.” She paused a beat, allowing Nick to prepare himself for her next words. “As of today, you’re on mandatory R-and-R. You will not set foot back in this building, nor will you conduct any business even remotely related to this agency for a period of fourteen days.”

Instantly his gaze hardened, as did the usually pleasant lines of his angular face. “That’s not necessary, Victoria. I’m ready for—”

“No,” she cut him off, her tone final. “I’ve always trusted your judgment, Nick.” She shook her head. “But not this time. I’d hoped that your need to assuage your conscience would fade with time, but it hasn’t. You’re still struggling with demons you can’t possibly hope to conquer by driving yourself into the ground.” Victoria raised a hand to stay his protests. He snapped his mouth shut, but his tension escalated, manifesting itself in his posture and the grim set of his jaw.

Regret weighed heavily on Victoria’s shoulders at having to call her top investigator, her second in charge actually, on the carpet like this. “You can’t run forever, Nick. You’ll either burn out or get yourself killed trying to prove whatever it is you feel the need to prove. When Sloan left I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to work so closely with anyone else, but I was wrong. I don’t want to lose you, Nick, but I won’t allow you to self-destruct on my time either. Go home, spend some time with your brother, or find yourself a hobby.” Victoria raised a speculative brow. “Or maybe a woman. Lord knows you could use one…or both.”

Nick’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t recall seeing a category marked ‘personal life’ on my performance evaluation.”

Necessity and irritation overrode Victoria’s regret. “You see this desk?” With one manicured nail she tapped the polished oak surface of the desk that had once belonged to her husband. “The buck stops here, mister. When you go home at night you can thank God in heaven for whatever blessings you may have received that day. But here, in this building, I am the highest power. And, despite your long standing at this agency, whatever I say is the final word. You, Mr. Foster, are on vacation. Is that understood?”

He didn’t flinch. “Absolutely.”

“Good.”

Nick got to his feet. The only indication that the move cost him was the muscle that ticced in his jaw and the thin line into which his lips compressed.

“Two weeks, Nick,” Victoria reiterated as he strode slowly toward the door, his trademark limp a bit more pronounced than usual. “Get a life, and when you return to work I want to see a new attitude.”

He paused at the door and shifted to face her. The other trademark gesture for which Nick Foster was known spread across his handsome face. Victoria imagined that the intensity and appeal of that smile had made many a heart flutter wildly.

“Yes ma’am,” he drawled, then walked out the door.

TWO WEEKS.

What the hell was he supposed to do for two weeks? Nick slammed his final report into the outbox on his desk. Victoria just didn’t get it. He had a life—here. Nick surveyed his upscale, corner office. Work was his life. He didn’t care what the shrinks said—Nick Foster didn’t need anything else.

Especially not a woman.

Ire twisted inside him when he considered Victoria’s words again. Yeah, he always did a hell of a job on his assignments. Especially this last one. Victoria could always count on him. No one else at the agency would have gone so far out on a limb for a client, but unlike the rest, it didn’t bother Nick.

He had nothing to lose.

If he had gotten himself killed, who the hell would have missed him?

Nick shrugged off the answer to that question. He stood, gritting his teeth at the pain that radiated through his right knee and up his thigh. Nothing like a needling reminder from the past, he mused, to keep a guy in touch with reality.

Reality had royally screwed him three years ago when he’d gotten this bum knee while protecting a client. Bad knee or no, he still did the best job possible. In fact, in all his years of service to the Colby Agency he had never failed—except once. He brutally squashed the memories that accompanied that line of thinking. That would never happen again. You couldn’t lose if you weren’t looking for anything to gain.

Nick jerked on his suit coat and grabbed his briefcase. What the hell? He hadn’t been camping or fishing in a while. Maybe he would hone his survival skills with a couple of weeks in the wilderness. And maybe he would call Chad and make it a family venture—considering the two of them were all that was left of the Foster clan. Nick’s right knee protested painfully when he skirted his desk too quickly.

He muttered a colorful expletive and then forced his attention away from the burning throb. He had ignored a hell of a lot worse.

The ergonomically modulated buzz from the telephone halted his thoughts as well as his indignant exit. Nick stared at the flickering red light with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. Everyone else at the agency, including Victoria, had no doubt already left for the day. No one ever stayed this late but him. Why should he bother answering the phone? Hadn’t Victoria ordered him to take a vacation starting immediately?

Just when he thought he could walk out the door without answering the damned thing, he snatched up the receiver and barked his usual greeting, “Foster.”

“Nick, it’s Ray Ingle.”

Nick froze, his tension rocketed to a new level. “Ray,” he echoed, certain that he must have heard wrong. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe he should have listened to the shrinks after all.

“It’s been too long, buddy.” Ray’s chastisement was subtle.

“Yeah, it has,” Nick said slowly as he leaned one hip against the edge of his desk, taking the weight off his bum leg. He dropped his briefcase to the floor and raked his fingers through his hair as he waited for Ray to make the next move.

“I haven’t called in a while.” Since we gave up on finding her, he didn’t have to add. “You haven’t returned any of my calls in so long, I guess I didn’t see the point anymore.”

“I’ve been really busy, man,” Nick offered by way of explanation, but the truth of the matter was he just hadn’t wanted to make time. He and Ray, a Natchez police detective, had worked closely for months on that one case. And to no avail. Guilt congealed in Nick’s gut.

“Sure, I know,” Ray acknowledged quietly.

Nick straightened. “Look, I was just on my way out the door, is everything okay?” He hated himself for trying to cut the call short, but just hearing Ray’s voice evoked more memories than Nick was prepared to deal with right now. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to deal with those memories.

“I saw her.”

The hair on the back of Nick’s neck stood on end as adrenaline flowed swiftly through his rigid body. “Laura?” he murmured in disbelief, the sound of her name sending an old ache through his soul. If Ray had seen her…she couldn’t be dead. Nick had known it all along.

“If it wasn’t her, it was her frigging twin.”

Nick moistened his suddenly dry lips. “Where?”

“I was following up on a possible homicide witness down in Bay Break and—”

“You’re sure it was her?” Nick prodded, suddenly impatient with the need to know.

“I’m pretty sure, Nick. Hell, we turned a good portion of the good old South upside down looking for that girl. And there she was, plain as day.” Ray sighed. “I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but it had to be her. I haven’t told anyone else yet. I hate to upset our Governor on the eve of an election.” He paused. “And, I figured you’d want to know first. I can give you a few hours head start, but then I’ll have to inform him.”

Emotion squeezed Nick’s chest, he swallowed tightly. “I’m on my way.”

Chapter One

She was being followed.

Oh God, no.

Panic shot through Laura Proctor, the surge of adrenaline urging her forward. The November wind whipped her hair across her face as she turned toward the town’s square and scanned the sidewalk for the closest shop entrance. The last of autumn’s leaves ripped from the trees at the wind’s insistence, swirling and tumbling across the empty street. Someone bumped Laura’s shoulder as they walked by, making her aware that she had suddenly stopped when she should be running.

Running for her life.

Instinctively her feet carried her along with the handful of passing pedestrians. She hadn’t taken the time to disguise herself as she should have. The desire to avoid the possibility of being recognized was no longer a priority. The only thing that mattered now was finding a place to hide.

Any place.

She had to get away.

To get back to her baby. She couldn’t be caught now.

Not now.

The knot of people crowding into the eastern entrance of the courthouse drew Laura’s frenzied attention.

Election day. Thank God.

Laura rushed deep into the chattering throng. Once up the exterior steps, she allowed herself to be carried by the crowd into the huge marbled lobby. Weaving between the exuberant voters, she made her way to the stairwell. Almost stumbling in her haste, Laura flew down the stairs leading to the basement level.

If she could just make it to the west end, up the stairs, and onto the street on the opposite side of the square, she would be home free. She had to make it, she determined as she licked her dry lips. The alternative was unthinkable.

Don’t dwell on the negative. Think, Laura, think!

Okay, okay, she told herself as she glanced over her shoulder one last time before starting down the dimly lit, deserted corridor. If she cut through the alley next to Patterson’s Mercantile, then circled around behind the assortment of shops until she reached Vine Street, she would have a straight shot to the house.

Mrs. Leeton’s house.

And her son. God, she had to get to Robby.

Laura skidded to a halt at the foot of the west stairs. “No,” she muttered, shaking her head. The door to the stairwell was draped with yellow tape. A handwritten sign read, Closed—Wet Paint. Laura grasped the knob and twisted, denial jetting through her.

She was trapped.

Laura blinked and forced herself to think harder.

Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed in the otherwise complete silence. She swung around toward the sound. He was coming down the stairs. In mere seconds he would cross the landing and descend the final steps leading to the basement…

To her.

Oh God. She had to hide. Now! Laura ran to a door, but it was locked. As was the next, and the next. Why were all the offices locked?

Election day.

Only the office serving as the voting polls remained open today. Fear tightened its mighty grip, shattering all rational thought. Laura bolted for the next possibility. Blessedly, the ladies’ room door gave way, pushing inward with her weight. Moving silently past each unoccupied stall, Laura slipped inside the last one and closed the rickety old door behind her. She traced the flimsy lock with icy, trembling fingers only to find it broken. Climbing onto the toilet, she placed one foot on either side of the seat and hunkered into a crouch. Knowing her pursuer to be only seconds behind her, Laura uttered one more silent prayer.

Trembling with the effort to remain perfectly still, she swallowed the metallic taste of fear and concentrated on slowing and quieting her breathing. The heart that had stilled in her chest, now slammed mercilessly against her rib cage. Laura refused to consider how he could have found her. She had been so careful since returning to Bay Break. She fought back a wave of tears as she briefly wondered just how much her brother was willing to pay the men he sent after his only sister.

How could this keep happening?

Why didn’t he just leave her alone?

How did they keep finding her?

And, God, what would happen to Robby if she were killed in the next three minutes as she fully expected to be if discovered? Anguish tore at her throat as she thought of her sweet, sweet baby. She wanted to scream…to cry…to run!

Stupid! Stupid! How could she have been so careless? She should never have left the house without taking precautions to conceal her identity. But Mrs. Leeton had insisted that Doc needed her at the clinic—that it was urgent. After all Doc had done for her son, how could Laura have refused to go? She closed her eyes and banished the tears that would not help the situation.

The slow groan of the bathroom door opening temporarily halted Laura’s galloping heart. Everything inside her stilled as her too-short life flashed before her eyes.

She had failed.

Failed herself.

Failed to protect the only man she had ever loved.

And, most important, failed to make the proper arrangements for her son’s safety in the event of this very moment.

Now she would die.

What would become of Robby? Who would care for him? Love him, as she loved him?

No one.

The answer twisted inside her like a mass of tangled barbed wire, shredding all hope. She had no one to turn to…no one to count on. A single tear rolled past her lashes and slid slowly down her cheek only to halt in a salty puddle at the corner of her mouth.

Something deep and primal inside Laura snapped.

By God, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Laura’s heart pounded back to warp speed. She swallowed the bitter bile that had risen in her throat as she heard the whoosh of the door closing and the solid thunk of boot heels against the tile floor. Each harsh, seemingly deafening sound brought death one step closer.

The first stall door banged against its enclosure as the hunter shoved the door inward looking for his prey. Then the second door, and the next and the next. Hinges whined and metal whacked against metal as he came ever closer to Laura’s hiding place.

To her.

Her heart climbed higher in her throat. Her breath vaporized in her lungs. Tears burned in her eyes. She focused inward to her last image of Robby, all big toothy smiles, toddling across the floor, arms outstretched.

Blood roared in Laura’s ears as her killer took the final step then paused before the gray, graffiti-covered metal door that stood between them. Did he know that she was there? Could he smell her fear? Could he hear her heart pounding?

Bracing her hands against the cold metal walls, Laura gritted her teeth and kicked the door outward as hard as she could. The answering grunt told her she had connected with her target—his face hopefully. Laura quickly scrambled to the floor, beneath the enclosure and into the next stall. Hot oaths and the scraping of boot heels echoed around her. Her body shaking, her breath coming in ragged spurts, Laura crawled from one stall to the next to retain cover. She had to get out of here. Had to run!

To get to Robby!

The door of the stall she had just wriggled into suddenly swung open. “Don’t move,” an angry male voice ordered.

Laura frowned. There was something vaguely familiar about that low, masculine drawl. As if in slow motion, her gaze traveled from the polished black boots, up the long jean-clad legs to the business end of the handgun trained on her. She blinked, feeling strangely disconnected from her body. Then her gaze shifted upward to look into the face of death.

Nick.

It was Nick.

“DON’T MAKE ME SORRY I put my weapon away,” Nick growled close to her ear. Awareness punched him square in the gut when he inhaled the gentle fragrance that was Laura’s alone. No store-bought perfume could ever match that natural sweetness. He clenched his jaw and simultaneously tightened his grip on her arm as they moved toward his rental car.

Hell, the Beretta had been overkill, he knew. Laura hadn’t even been carrying a purse, much less a weapon of any sort. But Nick wasn’t taking any chances this time. She hadn’t had a weapon the last time either.

His right leg throbbed insistently, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the pulsing burn. He had found Laura, alive and well, and that’s all he cared about right now.

Lucky for him Bay Break streets were deserted as far as he could see. He supposed that most of the residents out and about this morning were huddled in and around voting booths inside the courthouse, or sitting around a table in the local diner discussing how the election would turn out. Nick didn’t keep up with Mississippi politics, but James Ed Proctor III’s sensational reputation was hard to miss in the media. And, from what Nick had heard, whomever the man supported for Congress or the Senate was a sure winner.

The cold wind slapped at Nick’s unshaven face. After a late night flight, a long drive, and an even longer surveillance of the little town’s streets before Laura made her midmorning appearance, Nick welcomed the unseasonably cold temperature to help keep him alert.

He had fully expected Bay Break to be a good deal warmer than Chicago, but he’d gotten fooled. According to the old-timers hanging around the general store, all the signs warned of an early snow. Nick didn’t plan to hang around long enough to see if their predictions panned out. Between twelve hours of mainlining caffeine and the unanticipated cold, Nick felt more alert than one would expect after virtually no sleep in the last thirty hours. But by the time he drove to Jackson and did what he had to do, he would be in desperate need of some serious shut-eye. And, of course, there was that R-and-R Victoria had ordered. Yeah, right, Nick thought sarcastically.

Laura struggled in his grasp, yanking his attention back to the here and now. Nick frowned when he considered the woman he was all but dragging down the sidewalk. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She seemed softer somehow. He scowled at the path his thoughts wanted to take. He knew just how soft and delicate Laura Proctor was in all the places that made a man want a woman—except one. It took a woman with a cold, hard heart to walk away from a man who lay bleeding to death.

“You can’t do this,” Laura muttered heatedly. She scanned the sidewalks and streets. Looking for someone to call out to for help, Nick surmised.

“Who the hell do you think you are? You’re not a cop,” she added vehemently. “And I have rights!”

Anger kicked aside his foolish awareness of her as a woman and resurrected more bitter memories. Nick paused, then jerked her closer, his brutal hold eliciting a muffled yelp of pain, or maybe fear, at the moment he didn’t really care which. “When somebody put a bullet into my chest and you left me to die, you lost your rights as far as I’m concerned.”

Seconds ticked by as Laura tried her best to stare him down, her sky blue gaze watery behind thick lashes. She could cry a river of tears and he would still feel no sympathy for her. Nick mercilessly ignored the vulnerability peeking past that drop-dead stare, and turned the intimidation up a couple of notches. Laura’s defiant expression wilted.

His point made, Nick escorted her the last few steps to the car. After unlocking the driver’s side door, he pulled it open and ushered Laura inside. Her long blond hair trailed over his hand, momentarily distracting him and making his groin tighten. He squeezed his hand into a fist and forced away the unwanted desire. He had come here to take her back, not take up where they had left off. Laura Proctor would never make a fool of him again. And this time, he would be the one walking away.

As he had anticipated, once in the car she bolted for the passenger side. With a smug smile, Nick slid behind the wheel and started the engine, almost drowning out her surprised gasp when she couldn’t open the door.

“You bastard,” she snarled, her eyes unnaturally dark with anger. Her breasts rose and fell with her every frustrated breath. “This is kidnapping!”

Nick’s smile widened into a grin of pure satisfaction. “Consider it a citizen’s arrest,” he offered. Before he could back out of the parking slot Laura flew at him, a clawing, kicking tangle of arms and legs.

Nick shoved the gearshift back into park. After several seconds of heated battle he subdued her, but not without a slash across his throat from her nails. He shook her, none too gently. “Look,” he ground out. “I’m trying not to hurt you.”

“Sure,” she hissed. “You don’t want to hurt me, you just want to get me killed.”

For one fleeting instant Nick allowed himself to feel her fear. There had supposedly been a couple of attempts on her life two years ago. Could she still be in danger? Even now, after all she had put him through, Nick’s gut clenched at the thought. Hell, he couldn’t say for sure that there had ever been any real danger in the first place. According to the reports he had been privy to, Laura had possessed a wild streak, not to mention an overactive imagination. Her older brother, Mississippi’s esteemed Governor, was always getting her out of one scrape or another. Who was to say that the whole thing was anything more than her vivid imagination? And the guy she had been romantically linked to back then was over the edge in Nick’s opinion. He doubted her poor taste in associates had changed since.

Nick swallowed hard at the thought of Laura with another man.

Did he care?

No, he told himself. The lie, unspoken, soured in his throat.

“You don’t have to worry, Laura. I’m taking you back home, to your brother. I’m—”

“My brother?” She quickly retreated to the passenger side of the car, as far away from Nick as possible. “I can’t go back home! Don’t you understand? It’s not safe.”

Nick leveled a ruthless gaze on her panicked one. Her lower lip quivered beneath his visual assault, he suppressed the emotion that instantly clutched at his chest. How could she look so innocent? So truly frightened for her life? And, damn him, how could he still care? “You don’t have an option. In fact, if you’ll remember correctly, the last time you were supposedly in danger I’m the one who almost bought the farm.”

Something in her eyes changed, softened with what looked like regret. But it was too late for that now. Way too late.

Their gazes still locked, Nick shifted to reverse. “Buckle up, baby, we’re out of here,” he ground out, then glanced over his shoulder before backing into the street.

Laura Proctor was going back to face her brother and the law. Nick had every intention of uncovering the real story about what happened their last day together at her brother’s cabin as well. Protecting Laura and seeing her safely returned to the new Governor after the election two years ago had been Nick’s assignment. But things had gone wrong fast, and Laura was hiding at least part of the answers.

Including the part where she recognized the man who almost killed Nick. The one she had obviously disappeared with that same day. Ironic, Nick thought wryly, that he had found her and would be delivering her to her brother right after an election—just two years later than planned.

LAURA HAD TO DO something. Nick, the arrogant bastard, was going to get her killed. She glared at his perfect profile and winced inwardly. God, the man was breathtaking. It hurt to look at him and know what she knew. He had haunted her dreams every night for the past two years. He’d ruined her for anyone else. A dozen snippets of memory flashed before her eyes. The way it felt to be held by Nick. The way he made love to her. Her heart squeezed with remembered pain. He had been fully prepared to give his life to protect hers. Yet she could never trust him with her secret, and she sure couldn’t go back to Jackson with him.

The small sense of relief Laura had felt when she had realized the man holding the gun on her was Nick instead of some hired killer died a sure and swift death when he announced why he had tracked her down.

He still wanted to finish the job he had been assigned two years ago, to return her safely to her brother. And that was exactly the reason Laura had not been able to go to Nick for help. He was too honorable a man to ignore his responsibility to James Ed. No way would Nick have done things Laura’s way. He took his job way too seriously.

She had always known that Nick could have found her eventually if he had really wanted to—but he hadn’t. He had apparently stopped trying. Unlike James Ed’s men, whom she gave the slip without much difficulty, Nick wouldn’t be so easy. He was too damned good, the best. If anyone could have caught Laura during the past two years, he could have. Why now, she wondered, after all this time? But the answer to that question didn’t really matter at the moment. Right now Laura desperately needed to think of something fast. Something that would give her an opportunity to escape. She glared at the space where the unlock button used to be, and then at the useless door handle he had somehow disabled. Nick Foster was just a little too smart for his own good.

And hers.

Well, Laura decided, she hadn’t eluded her brother this long without being pretty smart herself. She would find a way. Going back to James Ed was suicide. And she could never allow anyone—especially Nick—to discover her secret. She had to protect Robby at all costs. Even if after getting Robby settled some place safe it meant going back to her brother, Laura would do it to lead any threat away from her child.

She would never let anyone harm her son.

Never.

But how would Doc know what had happened to her? Would Mrs. Leeton be able to take care of Robby if Laura never returned? Unsettled by the thought, Laura snapped from her disturbing contemplation, and realized that they were already headed out of town.

To Jackson.

Desperation crowded her throat.

She needed to go back to Mrs. Leeton’s house first.

To her son. She couldn’t leave without making some sort of arrangements.

There was no other option at the moment.

“We have to go back,” she said quickly.

“Forget it.” Nick’s focus remained steady on the road. A muscle flexed in his square jaw, the only visible indication of his own tension.

Laura frantically groped for some reasonable explanation he would find acceptable for turning around. Nothing came. A new kind of fear mushroomed inside her. She had to think of something.

Now!

“My baby!” she blurted when the Please Come Again sign loomed closer. “I have to get my baby.”

Nick threw a suspicious glance in her direction. “What baby?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“My…I have…a son,” she admitted, defeat sucking the heart from her chest. How would she ever protect her baby?

Nick’s expression shifted from suspicious to incredulous. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks, Laura.”

Trembling with the crazy mixture of emotions flooding her body, Laura swiped at the tears she had only just noticed were slipping down her cheeks. Dammit, why did she have to cry? She was supposed to be tough—had to be tough. “Please take me back, Nick. I have to get my son,” she pleaded, any hope of appearing even remotely tough dashed.

Something, some emotion, flitted across his handsome face so fast Laura couldn’t quite read it. She fought to ignore what looked entirely too much like hurt that remained. She knew just how much Nick had suffered because of her. He had almost died. She winced inwardly at the memory. But she couldn’t permit herself to feel any sympathy for him. He certainly harbored none for her. She had to stay focused on keeping her son safe. Robby was all that really mattered. And she could never allow Nick to suspect the truth about her child.

Laura didn’t even want to imagine what Nick would do if he found out he had a son.

A child she had kept from him for almost two years.

NICK PARKED the rented sedan on the street in front of the small white frame house Laura identified as belonging to a Mrs. Leeton. Emotions churned in his gut. What was it to him if Laura Proctor had gotten herself pregnant since he had last seen her? Or, hell, maybe even shortly before he had met her.

Nothing.

Less than nothing, he reiterated for good measure.

She had simply been an assignment back then, and Nick’s sole motivation for taking her back to her brother now was to clear up his record. Laura Proctor represented a black mark on his otherwise perfect record, and he was about to wipe it clean. If he had kept his head on straight back then he wouldn’t have screwed up the assignment in the first place. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have allowed himself to believe the woman almost virginal. What a joke.

On him.

Nick reached for the door handle, but Laura grabbed his arm. He stared for a long moment at the small, pale hand clutching at him before he met her fearful gaze. “What?” he growled.

“Please don’t do this, Nick,” she begged. “Please just walk away. Pretend you never saw me.” She moistened her full, lush lips and blinked back the tears shining in her eyes. “Please, just let us go.”

“Save your breath, Laura.” A muscle jumped in his jaw, keeping time with the pounding in his skull. Don’t even think about feeling sorry for her, man, he reminded himself. You let your guard down once and it almost cost you your life. “Nothing you can say will change my mind,” he added, the recall of Laura’s betrayal making his tone harsh.

Her desperate grip tightened on the sleeve of his jacket. “You don’t understand. He’ll kill me, and maybe even my son.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath hitched as it slipped past her pink lips. “Oh, God, what am I going to do?”

Nick tamped down the surge of protectiveness that surfaced where Laura was concerned. His chest tightened with an emotion he refused to label. He focused his attention on the street and dredged up the memory of waking up alone and barely alive in the hospital. “Who will kill you, Laura? The guy you watched put a bullet in me before you ran away?” He turned back to her then, the look of pain in her eyes giving him perverse pleasure. “Just how far were you willing to go to cause your brother trouble? Was it all just some kind of game to you?”

Her eyes closed again, fresh tears trickled down those soft cheeks. She was good. She looked the picture of innocence and sweetness. He almost laughed at that. Obviously the hotshot she had been involved with two years ago, or someone since had left her with an unexpected gift. Maybe it had been the guy who had put the bullet in Nick. Laura Proctor would have a hell of a time promoting that innocent act with an illegitimate baby on her hip. Well, that wasn’t his problem, even if the thought did make some prehistoric territorial male gene rage inside him.

“Are we going in, or do we head straight for Jackson?” he demanded impatiently, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel for effect.

Laura brushed her cheek with the back of her hand. “I want to get my son first,” she murmured, defeat sagging her slim shoulders.

“Well, let’s do it then,” he shot back, trying his level best not to think about Laura having sex with another man, much less having the man’s child. Damn, he shouldn’t care.

But, somehow, he still did.

Nick called himself every kind of fool as he emerged from the car, years of training overriding his distraction as he surveyed their surroundings. Vine was a short, dead-end street dotted with half a dozen small frame houses. A dog barked at one of the houses on the far end of the quiet street. Two driveways had vehicles parked in them, indicating someone could be home. Either Mrs. Leeton didn’t own a car or she wasn’t home, he noted after another scan of the house before them. Nick reached beneath his jacket and adjusted the weapon at the small of his back. There was no way of knowing what to expect next out of Laura or the people with whom she associated.

Laura scrambled out of the car and into the vee created by his body and the open car door. It took Nick a full five seconds to check his body’s reaction at her nearness. Laura’s gaze collided with his, the startled expression in her eyes giving away her own physical reaction. Nick breathed a crude, four-letter word. Laura shrank from him as if he had slapped her. He didn’t want to feel any of this, he only wanted to do what had to be done. But his male equipment obviously had other ideas.

“I know you’ll never believe me, but it didn’t happen the way you think,” Laura said softly, defeatedly. She looked so vulnerable in that worn denim jacket that was at least two sizes too big, the overlong sleeves rolled up so that her small hands just barely peeked out. But the faded denim encasing her tiny waist and slender hips was breath-stealingly snug, as was the dirt-streaked T-shirt that snuggled against her breasts.

Nick swallowed hard and lifted his gaze to the face he had never wanted to see again, yet prayed with all his heart he would find just around the next corner. For months after her disappearance his heart rate had accelerated at the sight of any woman on the street with hair the color of spun gold and whose walk or build reminded him of Laura. Each time, hoping he had found her, his disappointment had proven devastating. And now she stood right before him, alive and every bit as beautiful as the day he had first laid eyes on her. Could he have found her long ago had he truly wanted to? Or was believing the possibility that she was dead or, at the very least, lost to him forever simply easier?

Victoria had ordered him to stop looking for Laura. Her own brother had believed her dead. But Nick had never fully believed it. Yet he had stopped looking all the same. If she was alive and she didn’t want to contact him, he wasn’t going after her. Then Ray had called and the need for revenge had blotted out all else.

A wisp of hair fluttered against her soft, creamy cheek and Nick resisted the urge to touch her there. To wrap those golden strands around his fingers and then allow his thumb to slide over her full, lush lips.

“Please don’t make me go back, Nick,” she said, shattering the trance he had slipped into.

Briefly he wondered if she still felt it too, then chastised himself for even allowing the thought to materialize. Laura Proctor had no warm, fuzzy feelings for him. Actions speak louder than words, Nick reminded the part of him that stupidly clung to hope, and her actions had been crystal clear two years ago. She had left him to die.

“If you want to pick up your kid, I would suggest that you do it before I lose patience,” he snapped, using his anger to fight the other crazy, mixed-up emotions roiling inside him.

“Yes,” she murmured. “I want to pick up my son.” She looked away, then reached up to sweep the tendrils of hair from her face.

The ugly slash on the inside of her wrist caught Nick’s eye. He captured that hand in his and forced her to allow him to inspect it. He clenched his jaw at the memory that she had allegedly tried to commit suicide only a few weeks before they had met. But the woman he had known for such a short time in that quiet cabin by the river would never have done anything like that. She had been too full of life and anticipation of what came next. She wouldn’t have walked away leaving him to die, either—but Laura had.

And that was the bottom line: she couldn’t be trusted.

His hold on her hand bordering brutal, Nick led Laura up the walk and across the porch of the silent house. The whole damned street looked and felt deserted. He glanced down at the woman at his side. If this turned out to be a ploy of some sort, she would definitely regret it. He nodded at her questioning look, and she rapped against the door.

Laura held her breath as she waited for Mrs. Leeton, a retired nurse, to answer the door. The woman was old and riddled with arthritis, so Laura waited as patiently as she could for the key to turn in the lock. Until three years ago, Mrs. Leeton had worked with Doc for what seemed like forever. When Laura showed up a week ago needing Doc’s help, he had asked Mrs. Leeton to take Laura and Robby in. The elderly woman had readily agreed. Laura hadn’t really liked the idea of leaving Robby alone with Mrs. Leeton this morning, but what else could she do? Mrs. Leeton had insisted that Doc needed Laura right away.

When the door’s lock finally turned, anxiety tightened Laura’s chest and that breath she had been holding seeped out of its own accord. Would Nick recognize his own child? Would he demand that she turn his son over to him? Nick wasn’t the same man she had known two years ago. He was harder now, colder.

Would he take Robby to get back at her? Or would he simply take him out of fear for his son’s well-being? Just another reason she could never have turned to Nick for help no matter how bad things got. James Ed had convinced Nick and everyone else that she was mentally unstable. Nick would never in a million years have allowed a woman considered mentally unstable to raise his son. He would have taken Robby, Laura knew it with all her heart.

Oh, God, was she doing the wrong thing by even coming back here? Why didn’t she just let Nick take her back to Jackson without mentioning Robby? Doc would have taken care of her baby until Laura could figure out a way to escape…if she figured out a way.

The door creaked open a bit and old Mrs. Leeton peered through the narrow gap. Laura frowned at the look of distrust and caution in the woman’s eyes. Did she not recognize Laura? That was impossible. Laura and Robby had been living here for a week. The idea was ludicrous. Hysteria was obviously affecting Laura’s judgment.

“Mrs. Leeton, I’ve had a change in plans. I have to leave right away,” Laura told her as calmly as she could. “Please let Doc know for me. I just—” she glanced at the brooding man at her side “—need to get Robby and we’ll be on our way.”

“Who are you and what do you want?”

Alarm rushed through Laura’s veins at the unexpected question. “Mrs. Leeton, it’s me, Laura. I’ve come back to get Robby. Please let me in.” Nick shifted beside her, but Laura didn’t take her eyes off the old woman. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“I don’t know who you are or what you want, but if you don’t leave I’m going to call the police,” Mrs. Leeton said crossly.

Outright panic slammed into Laura then. “I need to get my son.” Ignoring her protests, Laura pushed past the woman and into her living room. Nick apparently followed. Laura was vaguely aware of his soothing tone as he tried to placate the shrieking old woman.

“Robby!” Laura rushed from room to room, her heart pounding harder and harder. Oh God, oh God, oh God. He’s not here. The cold, hard reality raced through her veins. Laura shook her head as if to deny the words that formed in her head. No, that can’t be! She had left him here less than an hour ago. It can’t be!

Laura turned around in the middle of the living room, slowly surveying the floor and furniture for any evidence of her son.

Nothing.

Not one single toy or diaper. Not the first item that would indicate that her son had ever even been there.

He was gone.

She could feel the emptiness.

Frantic, Laura pressed her fist to her lips, then looked from Nick, who was staring at her with a peculiar expression, to the old woman who glared at her accusingly. Laura clasped her hands in front of her as she drew in a long, shaky breath. “Mrs. Leeton, please, where is my baby?”

The old woman’s gaze narrowed, something distinctly evil flashed in her eyes. “Like I said before, I don’t know you, and there is no baby here. There has never been a baby here.”

Chapter Two

“There’s no need to call the police, Mrs. Leeton,” Nick assured the agitated old woman. He shot a pointed look at Laura. “We’ve obviously made a mistake.”

Laura jerked out of his grasp. “I’m not leaving without my son!” She grabbed the old woman’s shoulders, forcing Mrs. Leeton to look directly at her. “Mrs. Leeton, why are you doing this? Where’s Robby? Who took him?”

“Get out! Get out!” the old woman screeched. “Or I’ll call the police!”

“We’re leaving right now.” Nick carefully, but firmly, pulled Laura away from the protesting old woman. “Now,” he repeated when she resisted.

“I can’t go without my baby.” The haunted look on Laura’s face tore at Nick’s already scarred heart. “She’s lying. She knows where he is!” Laura insisted. Her eyes, huge and round with panic, overflowed with the emotion ripping at her own heart. How could he not believe her?

But he had trusted her once before….

Nick forced his gaze from Laura to the old woman. “I apologize for the confusion, Mrs. Leeton.” He tightened his grip on Laura when she fought his hold. “We won’t bother you again.” This time Nick snaked his left arm around Laura’s waist and pulled her against him. His gaze connected with hers and he warned her with his eyes that she had better listen up. “We’re leaving—now,” he ground out for emphasis. Laura sagged against him, emotion shaking her petite frame.

“If that crazy girl sets foot back on my property I’m calling the police!” Mrs. Leeton shouted behind them.

Nick didn’t respond to her threat. He had no intention of returning to the woman’s house. If Laura had a son, he wasn’t here, that much was clear.

Laura clung helplessly to Nick as he strode back to the rental car, her violent sobs rattling him like nothing else in the past two years had. He automatically tuned out the intensifying pain radiating from his knee upward. He didn’t have time for that now. He glanced down at the woman at his side. Whether she had a child and where that child might be was not his concern. He ignored the instant protest that tightened his chest. Taking her back to James Ed was all he came to do, Nick reminded himself. Laura had a brother, an influential brother, who could help her with whatever personal problems—real or imagined—she might have.

Nick opened the car door, intent on ushering Laura inside. Hell, it was too damned cold to stand outside and debate anything. He could calm Laura down once they were in the car. As if suddenly realizing that they were actually leaving, she twisted around to face him.

“I have to find Robby,” she said, her voice breaking on a harsh sob. “You have to believe me, Nick. I left him with Mrs. Leeton not more than an hour ago.” Another shudder wracked her body.

Nick pulled her close again, his own body automatically seeking to comfort hers. He forced himself to think rationally, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to take her sweet face in his hands and promise her anything. “Show me some proof that you have a son, Laura. Convince me.”

For the space of two foolish heartbeats Laura stared into his eyes, the blue of hers growing almost translucent with some emotion Nick couldn’t quite identify. Her upturned face too close for comfort.

“He’s real,” she whispered, her breath feathering across his lips, making him yearn to taste her, to hold her tighter.

“Prove it,” he demanded instead. “Show me pictures, a birth certificate, a favorite toy, clothing, any evidence that you have a child.”

She shifted, her body brushing against his and sending a jolt of desire through him. “My purse…” Laura frowned, then looked toward Mrs. Leeton’s house. “I left my purse and what few clothes we brought with us in there.”

Nick followed her gaze and studied the small white frame house for a moment. “We definitely aren’t going back,” he said flatly, then returned his attention to the woman putting his defenses through an emotional wringer. “I don’t want the local police involved.”

Instantly, Laura recoiled from him. Anger and bitterness etched themselves across the tender landscape of her face. Her eyes were still red-rimmed from her tears, but sparks of rage flew from their watery blue depths. “Of course not,” she spat the words with heated contempt. “We wouldn’t want to do anything that would bring the wrong kind of attention to the almighty Governor of Mississippi, now would we?”

“Get in the car, Laura.” Irritation stiffened Nick’s spine. He had no intention of making the Proctors’ domestic difficulties personal this go-around. “Now,” he added when she didn’t immediately move.

Her eyes still shooting daggers at him, Laura turned to obey, but suddenly whipped back around. “Doc,” she said. “Doc will back me up. He’ll tell you about Robby.”

Tired of beating a dead horse, Nick blew out a loud, impatient breath. “Who’s Doc?”

“My doctor,” Laura explained. “Robby was really sick. Doc’s the reason I came back here, I knew I could trust him,” she added quickly as she slid behind the wheel, then scooted to the passenger side of the car. “Let’s go!”

Nick braced his forearm on the roof of the car and leaned down to look her in the eye. He held her gaze for a long moment, some warped inner compulsion urging him to believe her. He straightened, taking a moment to scan the quiet neighborhood, then Mrs. Leeton’s house once more. Something about this whole situation just didn’t feel right. Maybe there was some truth to Laura’s story. Nick had always trusted his instincts. And they had never let him down…except once.

“Hurry, Nick, we’re wasting time!”

Still warring with himself, Nick dropped behind the wheel and started the engine. He turned to his passenger and leveled his most intimidating gaze on hers. “If you’re yanking me around, Laura, you’re going to regret it.”

LAURA STARED at the scrawled writing on the crudely crafted sign hanging in the window of Doc’s clinic. The breath rushed past her lips, leaving a cloud of white in the cold air as she read the words that obliterated the last of her hope. “Gone out of town, be back as soon as possible.” This couldn’t be. She shook her head as denial surged through her.

It just could not be.

Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest. Laura squeezed her burning eyes shut. Robby, where are you? Please, God, she prayed, don’t let them hurt my baby. Please, don’t let them hurt my baby.

“That’s rather convenient,” Nick remarked dryly from somewhere behind her.

Laura clamped one hand over her mouth to hold back the agonizing scream that burgeoned in her throat. How could she make Nick believe her now? Mrs. Leeton was lying or crazy, or maybe both. Doc had disappeared. Doc’s new nurse would be where? Laura wondered. The woman worked part-time with another doctor in some nearby small town. Where? Laura wracked her brain, mentally ticking off the closest ones. She couldn’t remember what Doc had told her. His longtime secretary had retired and moved to Florida months ago. He hadn’t hired anyone else, preferring to do the paperwork himself now. Who could Laura call? She couldn’t think. She closed her eyes again and stifled a sob that threatened to break loose. She had to keep her head on straight. She had to think clearly.

Who could have taken Robby?

Why?

Realization struck like lightning on a sultry summer night, acknowledging pain hot on its heels like answering thunder.

James Ed.

It had to be him, or one of his henchmen. They had found out about Robby and taken him to get to Laura. That would be the one surefire way to bring her home. She had realized that day two years ago at the cabin that her dear brother intended to kill her. She just hadn’t known why. But that epiphany had come to her eventually. The money. He wanted Laura’s trust fund. He was willing to kill her to get it. And now Robby was caught in the middle.

What about Doc? Could he be in on it? Was his sudden disappearance planned? Laura shook her head emphatically. No way. Doc loved her. And she trusted him. He wouldn’t do that. Laura read the sign in the window again. But where could he be? He had asked her to come to the clinic. He’d told Mrs. Leeton it was urgent. Had he somehow heard that someone was in town looking for her? Maybe he wanted to warn her. Could he have taken Robby somewhere to safety?

Laura prayed that was the case. But how could she be sure? Could she leave town without knowing that her son was safe? She swallowed tightly.

No. She had to find him.

“I know Doc’s here,” she said aloud, as if that would make it so. “He has to be.”

“Let’s go, Laura. I’m tired of playing games with you.”

Laura turned around slowly and faced the man who seemed to have set all this in motion. The man she still loved deep in her heart. The man who had given her the child that she could not bear to lose. But she could never tell him the truth.

Never.

Nick’s green eyes were accusing, and full of bitterness. Defeat weighed heavily on Laura’s shoulders as she met that unsympathetic gaze. Pain riddled her insides. She had lost her son and no one on earth cared or wanted to help her. She was alone, just as she had been alone since the day her parents had died when she was ten years old. Nothing but a burden to her much older brother, Laura had known from day one that he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. As soon as she had come home from college, James Ed had tried to push her into marrying the son of one of his business associates, but Laura had refused. Then the attempts on her life had begun.

She supposed that it was poetic justice of sorts. James Ed had considered her a nuisance her entire life, but being the responsible, upstanding man he wanted everyone to believe he was, he had offered Laura an out—marry Rafe Manning. Rafe was young, reasonably handsome, and rich. What more should she want? Why couldn’t she be the good, obedient sister James Ed wanted her to be?

If only James Ed had known. Rafe’s wild stunts had made Laura’s little exploits look like adolescent mishaps. Between the alcohol and the cocaine, Rafe was anything but marriage material. Not to mention the apparently insignificant fact that Laura had no desire to marry Rafe or anyone else at the time. She had been too mixed up herself, too young.

So Laura had thumbed her nose at her big brother’s offer, and he had chosen an alternative method of ridding himself of his apparently troublesome sister. Maybe Rafe had been in on it, as well. How much would James Ed have paid him to see that his new bride had a fatal accident? James Ed always preferred the easy way out. Hiring someone to do his dirty work for him was a way of life.

Perversely, Laura wondered if her showing up now would be an inconvenience considering James Ed had no doubt already taken control of her trust fund. Only weeks from her twenty-fifth birthday, Laura would be entitled to the money herself. Then again, that might be the whole point to this little reunion. James Ed would make sure that she didn’t show up to claim her trust fund. What would a man, brother or not, do to maintain control of that much money?

Nick stepped closer and Laura jerked back to the here and now. Robby was gone. Doc was gone. What did anything else matter? Panic skittering up her spine once more, she backed away when Nick reached for her. She had to find Robby and Doc. Laura rushed to the door of the house that served as both clinic and home to Doc Holland. She banged on the old oak-and-glass door and called out his name. He had to be here. He simply would not just disappear. She twisted the knob and shook the door. It was locked up tight.

Doc never locked the door to his clinic.

“This isn’t right,” she muttered. Laura moved to the parlor window. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the ancient, slightly wavy, translucent glass. Everything looked to be in order. But it couldn’t be.

“He wouldn’t just leave like this,” she reminded herself aloud. Bounding off the porch, Laura rushed to the next window at the side of the house. The kitchen appeared neat and tidy, the way Doc always kept it.

But something was wrong. Laura could feel it all the way to her bones. Something very bad had happened to Doc. Her heart thudded painfully. She knew Doc too well. He would never just disappear with Robby without leaving her some sort of word. “They’ve gotten to him, too,” she whispered, the words lost to the biting wind. Forcing herself to act rather than react, Laura ran to the next window, then the next one after that.

That same sense of emptiness she had felt at Mrs. Leeton’s echoed inside her.

“No one’s here, Laura.”

She struggled against the fresh onslaught of tears, then turned on Nick. “He has to be here,” she snapped. Her heart couldn’t bear the possibility that her child was in the hands of strangers who might want to harm him. Or that something bad had happened to Doc. “Don’t you understand? Without him…” Anguish constricted her throat, she couldn’t say the rest out loud.

Nick lifted one brow and glared at her unsympathetically. “We’re leaving now. No more chasing our tails.” He snagged her right arm before she could retreat. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” he warned.

Difficult? Laura could only stare at him, vaguely aware that he was now leading her back to the car. Did he truly think her situation was merely difficult? Could he not see that someone had cut her heart right out of her chest? Her child was missing! And she had to find him. Somehow…no matter what it cost her.

Another thought suddenly occurred to Laura—Doc’s fishing cabin. Maybe he had gone to the cabin to hide Robby. Hope bloomed in Laura’s chest. It wasn’t totally outside the realm of possibility, she assured herself. She paused before getting into the car and closed her eyes for a moment to allow that hope to warm her. Please, God, she prayed once more, let me find my baby.

Now, all she had to do was convince Nick to take her there. She opened her eyes and her gaze immediately collided with his intense green one. Despite everything, desire sparked inside her. How she wanted to tell Nick the truth—to make him believe in her again. But she couldn’t. And when they arrived at the cabin, if her son was not there, Laura would do whatever she had to in order to escape. She would go to James Ed all right. But she would go alone and on her own terms. Somehow Laura would devise a fail-safe plan to get her son back.

Whatever it took, she would do it.

NICK KEPT a firm hold on Laura as they emerged from the car outside Dr. Holland’s rustic fishing cabin. The place was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods on three sides and the unpredictable Mississippi River on the fourth. The cabin sat so close to the water’s edge, Nick felt sure it flooded regularly. But from the looks of things, there appeared to be no amenities like electricity. It served only as modest shelter for the hard-core fisherman or hunter. So what did a little water hurt now and then? he mused. Most likely nothing.

Now that he had gotten a good look at the place, Nick was surprised there had been a road accessible by car at all. Once again, quiet surrounded them. Only the occasional lapping of the water against a primitive old dock broke the utter silence. The sun had peaked and was now making its trek westward. Nick would give Laura five minutes to look around and then they were heading to Jackson. They had already wasted entirely too much time.

She hadn’t spoken other than to give him directions since they left the clinic. Nick glanced at her solemn face now and wondered what was going on in that head of hers. His gut told him he didn’t want to know. And his gut was seldom wrong.

At the steps to the dilapidated porch, Laura pulled free of his loosening grip and raced to the door. Nick followed more slowly, allowing her some space to discover what he already knew: there was no one here. Considering nothing about the cabin’s environment appeared disturbed in any way, and the lack of tracks, human or otherwise, there hadn’t been anyone here in quite a while. Nick swore softly at the pain that knifed through his knee when he took the final step up onto the porch.

Damn his knee injury, and damn this place. He plowed his fingers through his hair and shifted his weight to his left side.

The wind rustled through the treetops, momentarily interrupting the rhythmic sound of the lapping water. Nick scanned the dense woods and then the murky river, a definite sense of unease pricked at him. Maybe it was because the remote location reminded him of the place he and Laura had shared two years ago, or maybe it was just restlessness—the need to get on with this. Whatever the case, Nick’s tension escalated to a higher state of alert. If he still smoked, he’d sure as hell light up now. But he’d quit long ago. He had even stopped carrying matches.

“Doc’s not here. No one’s here.”

Nick met Laura’s fearful gaze. Drawing in a halting breath, she rubbed at the renewed tears with the back of her hand. She looked so vulnerable, so fragile. He wanted to hold her and assure her that everything would be all right as soon as she was back home. But what if he was wrong? What if someone still intended to harm her?

And what if he were the biggest fool that ever put one foot in front of the other? Don’t swallow the bait, Foster. You’ve seen this song and dance before. “Let’s get on the road then,” he suggested, self-disgust making his tone more curt than he had intended.

She blinked those long, thick lashes and backed away a step. “I can’t go with you, Nick.” Laura shook her head slowly from side to side. “I have to find Robby. I…I can’t leave without him. If you won’t help me, I’ll just have to do it alone.”

Keeping his gaze leveled on hers, Nick cautiously closed the distance between them. “Don’t do anything stupid, Laura,” he warned. “If you say you have a kid, I’m sure it’s true. And if you do, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to take him, can you? What about the boy’s father?”

The cornered-animal look that stole across her face gave her away about two seconds before she darted back inside the cabin. She had almost made it across the solitary room and to the back door when Nick caught, then trapped her between his body and a makeshift kitchen cabinet. Anger and pain battled for immediate attention, but at the moment jealousy of a man he had never even met had him by the throat. He leaned in close, pressing her against the rough wood counter, forcing her to acknowledge his superior physical strength.

“Does Rafe know about his son? Or is there some other unlucky fellow still wondering whatever happened to his sweet little Laura?” Nick snarled like the wounded animal he was.

In a self-protective gesture, Laura braced her hands against his chest, unknowingly wreaking havoc with his senses. How could she still affect him this way? Her scent tantalized him, made him want to touch her, taste her, in all the ways he had that one night. Every muscle in his body hardened at the imagined sensation of touching Laura again. When she turned that sweet face up to his, her eyes wide with worry and pleading for his understanding, his resolve cracked….

“He doesn’t know about Robby.” She licked those full pink lips and a single tear slid slowly down one porcelain cheek. “I’m afraid I won’t find him, Nick. Please help me.”

…his resolve crumbled. Nick allowed himself to touch her. His fingertips glided over smooth, perfect skin, tracing the path of that lone tear. The sensation of touching Laura like he had dreamed of doing for so very long short-circuited all rational thought.

Slowly, regret nipping at his heels already, Nick lowered his head. He saw her lips tremble just before he took them with his own. Her soft, yielding sigh sent a ripple of sensual pleasure through him. She tasted just like he remembered, sweet and innocent and so very delicate. Like a cherished rose trustingly opening to the sun’s warmth, Laura opened for him. And when he thrust his tongue inside her sweet, inviting mouth the past slipped away. Only the moment remained…touching Laura, tasting her and holding her close, then closer still.

Nick threaded his fingers into her long blond hair, reveling in the silky texture as he cradled the back of her head. “Laura,” he murmured against her mouth, and she responded, knotting her fists in his shirt and pulling him closer. His body melded with hers, her softness molding to his every hard contour as he deepened the already mind-blowing kiss.

Lust pounded through him with every beat of his heart. Nick traced the outline of Laura’s soft body, his palms lingering over the rise of her breasts, then moved lower to cup her bottom and pull her more firmly into him. She slid one tentative hand down his chest, then between their grinding bodies. Laura caressed him intimately. Nick groaned loudly into her mouth as she rubbed his erection again and again through his jeans.

Her tongue dueled with his, taking control of the kiss, just as her body now controlled his. Her firm breasts pressed into his chest, her nipples pebbled peaks beneath the thin cotton of her T-shirt. The urge to make love to Laura—here, now—overwhelmed all else as she propelled him ever closer toward climax with nothing more than her hand, and in spite of the layers of clothing still separating them.

The unexpected blow to the side of his head sent Nick’s equilibrium reeling. He staggered back a couple of steps and Laura took off like a shot. He stared at the thick ceramic mug shattered on the primitive wooden floor. He hadn’t even noticed it on the counter. Nick shook his head to clear it and took several halting steps in the general direction of the door. When he got his hands on Laura he intended to wring her neck. At the moment he had to focus on reversing the flow of blood from below his belt to above his neck.

She was already at the car when he stumbled across the porch, his body still reeling from her touch. He rubbed the throbbing place just behind his temple then checked his fingertips for any sign of blood. No blood, just a hell of a lump rising. A half dozen or so four-letter words tumbled from his mouth as he lurched toward the car, his knee throbbing with each unsteady step. Pure, unadulterated rage flashed through him like a wild fire. She would regret this, he promised himself.

Nick knew by Laura’s horrified expression that she had just discovered that the keys weren’t in the ignition. Did she think he was stupid as well as gullible? In a last-ditch effort to save herself, she locked the doors.

Grinning like the idiot he now recognized himself to be, Nick reached into his pocket and retrieved the keys, then proceeded to dangle them at her. “Going somewhere?” He inserted the key into the door’s lock and glared at her. “I don’t think so.” He jerked the door open and leaned inside.

Laura tried to climb over the seat and into the back but Nick caught her by the waist.

“Let me go!” she screamed, slapping, scratching and kicking with all her might. “I have to find my son!”

Once Nick had restrained her against the passenger-side door, he glowered at Laura for three long beats before he spoke. “You have two choices,” he growled. “You can sit here quietly while I drive to Jackson, or I can tie you up and put you in the trunk. It’s your call, Laura, what’s it going to be?”

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