Читать книгу My Baby, My Love - Dani Sinclair - Страница 8

The telephone pulled him out of a restless sleep. Noah glanced at the clock and saw it was only 5:56 in the morning. He sat up, tensing as he reached for the phone. He fully expected the message to be a call to duty. Instead, a prissy feminine voice filled his ear.

“Major Inglewood? This is Jennifer Comsilt. I’m a nursing supervisor at—”

“Sydney?”

“She’s going to be all right,” the professional voice hastened to assure him. “However, she did indicate that she would like me to call you.”

Fully alert, Noah swung his legs over the side of the bed. “She indicated? She didn’t ask?”

“Her…ah…that is, there was an incident early this morning.”

He was reaching for his pants, the receiver tucked under his chin. “What sort of incident, Ms. Comsilt?”

Was she okay? The baby!

Noah sorted through the horrible possibilities running through his head while fear feasted on his stomach. He dressed rapidly, by rote.

“Let me reiterate,” the woman’s voice continued, “Mrs. Inglewood will be fine, but…well, someone entered her room sometime after four o’clock this morning and…that is, they attempted…to strangle her.”

Coldness seeped into his chest. She’d wanted to leave and he’d left her there. “I’m on my way.”

“That isn’t—”

Noah disconnected. The woman had said Sydney was all right but he needed to see for himself.

He dug through his duffel bag and pulled out the only items of clothing he had that might work for her. Bundling them together, he reached for his key card, stuffed his feet into his shoes and was out the door and into the early-morning heat of what would no doubt prove to be another humid summer day in Washington, D.C. His hotel was only a ten-minute drive from the hospital, yet the cab ride seemed interminable.

He kept remembering that Sydney hadn’t wanted to stay. He should have listened to her. How had the attacker gotten inside her room? What had happened to the armed officer stationed outside her door?

Less than twenty minutes after the phone call woke him, Noah was stepping off the elevator onto Sydney’s floor. People milled about the nurses’ station. Coffee and breakfast scents mingled with the normal hospital smells. Carts bearing breakfast trays were being rolled along at the far end of the hall.

A different uniformed police officer now stood, rather than sat, outside the door to Sydney’s room. A second plainclothes officer was positioned at the desk, talking with an agitated nurse. An assortment of other people clustered around. Noah recognized the FBI agent as soon as the man turned in his direction.

“Major Inglewood? I’m Agent Wickowski. We met—”

“I remember. You’re FBI, investigating the bank robbery.”

“That’s correct. The police called me this morning to tell me what had transpired.”

“What exactly did transpire, Agent Wickowski?”

The man hurried to catch up as Noah strode toward Sydney’s door without waiting for an answer. “Major—”

“How did anyone get past the police officer?”

A flush crept up his neck. “There was a miscommunication between our office and the police department. Apparently it was…er…necessary to pull the officer last night. The police felt since we’d already taken her statement…”

Noah eyed him coldly, stopping the words in the man’s throat. “She’s the only eyewitness to what happened.”

“Yes, but her whereabouts weren’t reported. They didn’t think—”

“Obviously.”

The uniformed officer stepped forward to block the door at Noah’s approach.

“Do I go through him, or around him?” Noah asked mildly.

The agent inclined his head and the uniformed man stepped away with a tight look. Noah would have welcomed a scuffle, if only to work off some of the tension humming through his body.

Sydney perched on the edge of the bed, the shapeless hospital gown drooping off one shoulder. Her hair hung in lank strands past her shoulders, surrounding a face pale enough for Halloween. Her china-blue eyes were large as saucers. But she appeared extraordinarily calm for someone who’d just been attacked. Her expression brightened instantly when she saw him.

“Sorry, Sydney,” he told her without preamble. “Are you okay?”

She gave a small nod. He noted the new bruises and his jaw set.

“Want to leave?”

In answer, she tried to scoot off the bed. He caught her before she pitched forward, tangled in the sheet. “Easy. I’ve got you.”

His arm came to rest across her chest, supporting the lush curve of one breast. Sydney was a tall, shapely woman. How shapely, he shouldn’t be noticing.

“Okay?”

She nodded.

“You’re not thinking of taking her out of here?” Wickowski demanded.

“Thinking, no. I am taking her out of here.”

“Look, Major—”

“No, Wickowski, you look. She was almost killed. I assume the guy wasn’t caught?”

His ruddy cheeks grew ruddier.

Sydney laid a hand against Noah’s chest. “Please.” Her voice was low and hoarse. “Fight later. I’d like to leave now.”

“Right away,” he agreed.

“I could hold her as a material witness,” Wickowski threatened.

“You can try.” Noah met the agent’s anger with his own. They’d nearly let her be killed!

Wickowski looked away first.

More people crowded into the room, blocking their path to the door. A rotund, pinch-faced woman with faded red hair stepped forward importantly. “Major Inglewood, I’m Jennifer Comsilt. We spoke on the telephone. This is Dr. Messinger.”

Jennifer Comsilt pushed at a prim pair of glasses sitting on her nose while the doctor fussed with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. Noah dismissed them with a glance.

“I’d like to use the bathroom,” Sydney whispered.

“You want to help her, Ms. Comsilt?”

“Oh.” The supervisor gazed frantically past him as if looking for someone else. “Er…ah, yes. Of course.” Obviously, she wasn’t used to making personal contact with the patients.

“I can manage,” Sydney told him.

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I don’t doubt it for a minute, but I think getting dressed will be easier with some help, don’t you? Here.” He thrust the bundle of clothing into Mrs. Comsilt’s free hand. “These won’t be a great fit, but they’re the best I could come up with on such short notice.”

“Not mine?” Sydney asked in a whispery voice.

“Mine, I’m afraid. I didn’t get to your place last night.”

She paused, surveying him from head to toe. A spark of amusement glinted in her eyes. “Should be a great fit.”

Noah found himself smiling wryly. “The jogging shorts have a drawstring,” he offered.

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t worry. The T-shirt will probably cover them completely.”

“No doubt.”

Her easy acceptance surprised him. He expected Sydney to be weak and needy. Her unexpected grit kept amazing him.

Messinger stepped forward. “Just a moment. Mrs. Inglewood suffered a trauma to her throat this morning.” Messinger’s grating voice had a nasal whine. “While I don’t believe any permanent harm was done, I’d like a specialist to have a look at her.”

“I’ll see to it. We’re leaving in five minutes. You want to get the release forms?”

“Mr. Inglewood, this hospital cannot be responsible—”

“Save it, Doctor. I am not in the mood. We’ll need the release papers right away or we’re leaving without signing them.”

“Major Inglewood,” the agent tried to cut in.

Noah spun toward the man. “Wickowski, my brother is dead. My sister-in-law just came too close to joining him for my peace of mind. She’s…”

“We’ll keep someone at her door.”

“…getting out of here right now. You’ve got her statement. Two days’ worth, as a matter of fact.”

“I realize that. But in an investigation like this one, questions come up. The FBI—”

“Doesn’t have to talk to her here in the hospital. Cut her some slack, Wickowski. I’m taking her someplace safe.”

“Police protection—”

“Isn’t very reliable, wouldn’t you say?”

The doctor interrupted. “Mrs. Inglewood is pregnant!” he protested.

The last thing Noah needed was a reminder of the child growing inside his brother’s wife. He’d thought about little else since he learned that fact. The ramifications were staggering. He leveled his coldest gaze on the man.

“I am aware of that, Doctor,” he said with such quiet steel that anyone who knew him would have beaten a hasty retreat. “And I’m going to see that she lives to deliver that child. Three minutes, Doctor.”

The bathroom door opened. While no doubt the drawstring on the shorts had been cinched around her narrow waist as tightly as possible, the material hung in ridiculous fashion against long, shapely legs. The baggy T-shirt draped over the full swell of her generous breasts, making it all too obvious Sydney wasn’t wearing a bra beneath the thin cotton. Noah decided he’d deck the first man who ogled her.

Sydney leaned on the nurse, but she straightened the moment she saw him. In that unguarded moment, he glimpsed a vulnerability that arced straight for his gut. She was shaken to the core and doing everything she knew to keep it from showing.

“Sydney, Agent Wickowski is offering you police protection.”

“No!”

“Mrs. Inglewood, this time we’ll use our own people. I promise you we’ll see that you’re protected.”

“Am I under arrest?”

Her voice was stronger, though it still had a hoarse, raspy edge.

Wickowski shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Then I’d like to leave.”

“That’s it, Wickowski. We’re out of here.” Noah’s own instincts clamored for him to get her away as quickly as possible.

“Mrs. Inglewood,” the doctor interjected, “this isn’t a good idea. You’ve suffered a severe trauma to your head and you’ve just had surgery on your hand. You’re taking a big risk leaving here.”

“Bigger risk…staying,” she croaked out as her voice broke down in a hoarse whisper.

“Don’t strain your vocal cords,” Noah chastised, reaching inside her closet for the bag of torn, stained clothing. “We’re leaving.”

He liked the way she stood up to the doctor. She was no cringing wimp, that was for sure. He went back to her drawer and collected the contents of her purse.

Sydney got discharge papers and lectures, but Noah had her in a wheelchair and out front before her breakfast tray arrived.

“Impressive,” Sydney whispered. “I can see why you’re a major.”

In one hand, she clutched the African violet. He felt ridiculously pleased. She’d left behind the large sprays of flowers from her friends and coworkers.

Long sooty lashes fluttered closed when she leaned back against the cab’s upholstery. Noah resisted an urge to smooth away the dark smudges of fatigue beneath the fall of lashes. He had to keep reminding himself that this was his brother’s wife.

Staring at her profile, he decided Jerome’s photographs hadn’t done her justice. Sydney Edwards Inglewood had flawless skin over the sort of bone structure that gave her a clean, natural beauty.

“Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“I should have listened to you last night. I didn’t know they were going to pull the guard at your door.”

Her shoulders lifted and fell in a small shrug. “They didn’t know I was in danger.”

“You’d think they’d protect a material witness better than that. Can you tell me what happened without straining your voice?”

In a husky whisper, Sydney told him what little she’d seen. “He wanted something, but he was so afraid I’d scream again he kept holding on to my throat so I couldn’t answer even if I’d wanted to. I wonder if it could have been that orderly who scared me earlier.”

“What orderly?”

Sydney’s explanation fed his anger.

“You mean to tell me that no one checked this out?”

Sydney shrugged. “The nurse never came back. Or if she did, I was already asleep. Maybe the orderly was just weird, but in retrospect, I think he was going through the drawer on the nightstand.”

Noah was coldly furious. “Is anything missing?”

“I never looked.”

“We’ll do that when we get to the hotel.”

“I didn’t have anything worth taking, Noah. Maybe ten dollars and some change. And I could be wrong about what he was doing.”

“Did you tell Wickowski about this?”

She shook her head.

“We’ll call him later.”

He helped her from the cab in front of his hotel and she stumbled over the curb, forcing him to reach for her.

“Lean on me,” he told her quietly. “We don’t need you falling down in front of half the visiting businessmen in the city.”

Men and women in power suits, sporting briefcases and newspapers, moved busily about the lobby. There were even a few early-morning tourists scurrying about.

Sydney stiffened. “I won’t fall.”

“Good. I hate scenes first thing in the morning.”

“Then move your hand or you’re going to get a doozy.”

He realized that in avoiding her bad arm, his hand had pressed against the soft round curve of her breast. Instantly, he released her. Sydney moved forward with quiet dignity.

“Why are we here?”

“This is where I’m staying.” He reached for the elevator button.

She raised her eyebrows expressively.

“I didn’t think you wanted to answer any more questions for a while.”

After a second she gave a delicate shudder and looked away. “I don’t.”

As a crush of people jostled their way out of the elevator, Sydney was pressed up against him. He steadied her lightly, careful of his hands this time. But that only reinforced his awareness of her body. A very nice body. She was a good height for a woman, almost at eye level with him.

The sudden flare of awareness in her eyes caught him off guard. Her lips parted. A lacy sweep of pink brightened her cheeks. His answering response came as another surprise. As soon as they entered the elevator away from prying eyes, he stepped away from her.

“My room has two double beds, Sydney,” he said to reassure her as well as himself. “You can use the second one to try for a little sleep while I make other arrangements.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Who put you—?”

“In charge? I did.” Her whispery voice only added fuel to the unwanted kindling of awareness. “You’d better stop trying to talk. You’re losing what little voice you have left.”

Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her head. “I realize you haven’t seen any proof of this so far, but I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Major.” Her voice dropped even lower as it cracked and broke. “I’ve been doing so for a number of years.”

“I know. Jerome told me you were an orphan.”

It had only confirmed his conviction that Jerome was a fool who’d let himself be trapped by a needy older woman with a biological clock ticking away.

On the other hand, Jerome had always liked to get his own way, so Noah figured it was the woman who would come to regret the decision. Jerome was a handsome charmer. He was also totally self-centered and used to being catered to.

Still, Noah had found himself studying Sydney’s photograph at odd moments, baffled by the woman Jerome had selected for his wife. While pretty, she wasn’t the flashy adornment Noah had expected Jerome to pick.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make your wedding,” Noah told her. “I was out of the country at the time.”

“He would have liked you to be there,” she said without looking at him.

Privately, Noah doubted that.

“It was a simple service. We didn’t even use a church.”

Was that a trace of regret? Noah couldn’t tell. The last assignment had left Noah taking a hard look at the choices he’d made in his own life. He’d experienced a tug of envy over the life his brother had planned. Talk about irony. Noah risked his life every time he went on a mission, yet it was Jerome who’d died protecting someone else, leaving Noah the living hostages to fortune.

Noah was relieved when the elevator doors opened and he could abandon that train of thought. He led Sydney down the hall.

“How did you come to be an orphan?” he asked abruptly, curious about the woman his brother had married.

“My parents and older brothers were killed in an avalanche on a skiing vacation in Austria when I was seven.”

“That’s rough.”

Remembered grief reflected in her eyes. “I was supposed to go with them, but I came down with chicken pox the day before the trip so I stayed with my grandmother.”

“So you weren’t a total orphan?”

With an impatient toss of her hair she shook her head. “She died of a massive heart attack when I was sixteen. Do you really want my life history?”

He unlocked the door to his room. “Maybe later. Does it bother you to talk about the past?”

“No.”

He gestured her inside the room and she entered cautiously, almost as if she expected someone to jump out at her.

“Have a seat,” he said brusquely.

“You must scare the heck out of young recruits.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re good at giving orders and intimidating people.”

He found himself wanting to smile again. “I don’t scare you.”

She arched her eyebrows again. “Remember that.”

He suppressed an urge to chuckle. He hadn’t expected to like Sydney so much. He laid a finger over her cracked lips. “Save your voice. You can yell at me later. Right now you look done in.”

She studied him through eyes semiglazed by pain and fatigue. He sensed both grief and fear hiding beneath the surface and held up a hand to stave off any further protests. “I’ll try to stop giving orders. In the meantime, let’s not argue until you’re back to fighting form. Do you want to eat or sleep first? You’ll be safe here, Sydney.”

Her eyes spoke volumes, but she turned without a word and set the plant on the nightstand. She moved stiffly to the far bed with its undisturbed cover.

“It’s silly, but I’m so tired I can’t even think straight anymore,” she murmured.

“It’s not silly at all.” He stripped down the covers and let her climb into bed, still clothed in his running outfit. Sydney wasn’t the sort to lean on anyone if she could help it. That she let him help her and didn’t even protest when he smoothed the blanket over her told him a great deal about how bad she was feeling. He’d been right not to initiate a serious discussion right away. There’d be time later.

He’d meant to keep his actions strictly impersonal, but as her eyes fluttered closed, his hand reached out and gently stroked the hair back from her face. She twitched, but that was all. He would have sworn she was asleep in seconds.

Noah sat at the table and watched the steady rise and fall of her breathing and tried to control the unexpected spike from his libido. Sydney would be shocked if she knew the sort of urges she was stirring in him. He was feeling a little shocked himself.

No other woman had provoked this raw need to protect and cherish. Why Sydney of all people? Unless it had something to do with the baby she carried. He’d shied away from thoughts of the child ever since she’d uttered those damning words. Jerome’s baby.

He ran unsteady fingers through his hair. What a mess. His brain knew she was his brother’s wife, but his body didn’t seem to care.

He stared at her hand, lying protectively curled across her chin. She had long, graceful fingers and short, unpolished nails, but it was her ring finger that captured his attention. She wore a simple, wide gold wedding band and an ordinary diamond solitaire on her left hand.

Glad to have a focus—any focus that would keep him from looking at her—he studied her ring. She designed jewelry for a living. He would have expected something different on her finger—something unique. Obviously, he would have been wrong. Still, that jarring note was one more in a growing list of inconsistencies he’d noticed since he arrived.

Finally convinced that it would take the entire Army marching band to wake her, Noah made a couple of phone calls to get his mind off the bewitching woman. The last one was to Agent Wickowski, who expressed anger at not being told about the orderly. He wanted to come over and talk with Sydney right away. Noah convinced him to wait and suggested Wickowski talk with the nurse and the police officer first.

For a long time after that, Noah watched Sydney sleep, sorting through his options. He didn’t have many, he acknowledged glumly. He couldn’t simply walk away from her or the situation. He and Jerome had a blood tie he couldn’t deny. And now Noah was irrevocably bound to Sydney. The thought was nearly as disturbing as the woman herself.

She looked almost ethereal in sleep. How would she look when she grew round with the baby she carried?

Following that line of thought would lead to disaster, Noah told himself. Impatiently, he stood and put out the Do Not Disturb sign. Then he called the desk to ask them to hold all calls. Disgruntled, he lay down on the other bed and willed himself back to sleep. Questions loomed in his mind. He tried to picture Sydney and Jerome together and the image made him angry and restless.

When she sat up hours later, he was still awake, still trying to figure out how to initiate the discussion they needed to have.

She rolled over and looked at him, her eyes misty with sleep. “Hi.”

“Feel better?”

“I think so. Why are we whispering?”

“So we don’t strain your voice?”

“Oh.” She moistened her dry lips. “What have you been doing?”

“Watching you sleep.”

She blinked in surprise. “You do lead an eventful life, don’t you?” and she yawned, stretching away the kinks.

Noah’s attention riveted on the material of the T-shirt where it tightened over the gentle swell of her breasts. She caught him looking and color suffused her face.

Heat stole up his neck as well. When was the last time he’d been caught staring at a woman like some randy schoolboy?

Sydney rolled off the other side of the bed before he could apologize. “Bathroom,” she whispered without looking at him.

Well, at least she was steadier on her feet now. Noah sat up, frowning when the shower started.

She was too weak and dizzy. She could fall, hit her head. Anything might happen. Bathrooms were dangerous places. There was also the cast on her hand to consider. He didn’t know if she was supposed to get it wet or not but it would definitely hamper her in the bathtub.

Noah suspected it wouldn’t do him much good to point out either of those facts to her. Sydney Edwards—Inglewood, he tacked on sternly—definitely had a mind of her own.

Running a hand through his hair, he decided it would be much better for both of them if he didn’t dwell on the image of her standing on the other side of that flimsy door taking a shower.

“I needed a nap more than she did,” he muttered to himself as he reached for the telephone to call room service.

Sydney stepped from the steamy bathroom a few minutes later, a towel wrapped loosely around her head. She’d donned his T-shirt again, but the shorts had obviously proved too much for her. She gripped the drooping shorts firmly around her waist. He wished she looked ridiculous—instead of sexy as hell.

“Quite a fashion statement,” he told her with what he hoped was an easy smile.

She looked down at the shirt where it clung a bit damply to the tops of her breasts and made a face. “I couldn’t retie the drawstring with only one hand.” Her embarrassment was tempered by annoyance.

Noah forced his eyes up and away, disturbed by his instant reaction. “I should have thought of that. I’ll help you.”

He could be detached. Of course he could.

“Come here.”

Sydney hesitated.

Remembering her earlier comment about the way he gave orders he added, “Please.”

Her expression lightened in a sudden burst of humor. “I’ll bet that didn’t hurt a bit.”

“What didn’t?”

“Saying please.”

“Anybody ever tell you that you have a sassy mouth?”

She grinned. “No one dares. Have you been in the military a long time?”

She was stalling. He didn’t mind the delaying tactics a bit. Touching her so intimately was going to be uncomfortable for both of them, especially since he knew she wasn’t wearing a thing under those bits of cloth.

“I got a military scholarship in high school.”

“ROTC?”

He nodded and perched on the edge of the bed so he could reach for the string.

“You know, we could call the front desk,” she said suddenly, backing up. “They might have a gift shop. Maybe I could have them send up a dress or something.”

He could just envision trying to help her into a dress. “I don’t think so, but picking up your clothing will be our first priority.” His sanity might depend on it. “Come here.”

With an air of resignation, she approached. “I feel like a little kid,” she said with endearing nervousness.

“Trust me, you don’t look anything at all like a kid.” And that was a pity. He wouldn’t have thought twice about helping a kid.

He’d never felt such intense physical awareness of a woman before. He had to keep telling himself she was his brother’s wife. Surely he could do this without embarrassing both of them.

But sitting on the bed had been a mistake. It put him just above eye level of the rounded curves his T-shirt strove to conceal. Her nipples contracted into tiny hard points. Noah tried not to stare and reminded himself once more that this was his sister-in-law, not some woman he was trying to take to bed.

“Sorry,” she said. “I feel foolish.”

He knew the feeling.

“Is this the spot where I’m supposed to close my eyes and think of God and country?”

She surprised a chuckle out of him. He liked the way she turned to humor in difficult situations. “I thought it was queen and country.”

“Only if you’re British.”

“Ah. Well, c’mere darlin’,” he said with a drawl.

Her expression flashed with mild alarm that immediately turned to an answering grin. “Go for it, Tex.”

She released her one-hand death grip on the scrunched-up shirt and lost her hold on the jogging shorts underneath. They slid dangerously down her slim hips.

“Oops!”

Noah stopped their descent at her hips, which placed his face only inches from her navel beneath the thin bit of cotton. He inhaled the pleasant scent of the soap she’d used all over her body.

This had been a very bad idea.

“Here,” he said a bit gruffly. “You hold the shorts. I’ll get the drawstring.”

Their hands connected. Noah drew in a sharp breath and reminded himself once more that this was his sister-in-law. Calling on every bit of discipline he’d ever known, he tugged up the hem of the T-shirt and reached for her waistband.

“I think I’d better tell you that I’m ticklish.”

Noah stopped, his fingers barely touching her smooth marble skin. “Ticklish?”

“Very ticklish. And I always get even.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not ticklish.”

“There are better ways of getting even.”

“I think I like the sound of that.” He slid a finger beneath the edge of the waistband searching for the drawstring. He tried not to acknowledge the silky feel of her skin as he brushed against the indentation that was her belly button. Her tummy contracted in instant reaction to his touch. His groin tightened in answer.

“Noah…”

“Don’t move. Don’t even breathe,” he warned.

He tugged the drawstring loose, tied it and sat back, breathing as though he’d just run a marathon.

Sydney jumped back like a scalded cat. The towel on her head tilted to one side and she pulled it free.

“Well. Now. That wasn’t so bad.”

“Speak for yourself,” he muttered under his breath.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He stood and walked to his duffel bag so she wouldn’t notice the effect that little encounter had had on him. He needn’t have worried. Sydney was looking everywhere but at him. He pulled items randomly from his kit.

“I need to borrow your comb, if you don’t mind.”

“Use anything you need.”

Just don’t tell me about it, he almost added. The intimacy of this situation was taking a high toll on his good intentions. “I’m going to grab a quick shower myself. If room service comes before I’m done, check the peephole before you open the door. If you aren’t certain, wait for me. Okay?”

Her eyebrows raised mockingly. “Were you a drill instructor by any chance?”

He managed a lopsided smile, relieved she’d found a way to cut the tension between them. “Sorry again. I’m used to giving orders.”

“I can tell.”

“I just don’t want you to take any chances.”

“Yes, sir, Major, sir. Go take your shower.”

Sydney watched him go with a mixture of relief and regret. Her reaction to that little scene had been juvenile, to say the least. She tried to tell herself that there had been nothing sensual in Noah’s touch except in her own warped mind, but the truth was, for a minute or two there, they’d been a man and a woman who were attracted to each other. She didn’t want to know what he must be thinking of her.

Noah was much nicer than she’d expected from the things Jerome had told her. Oh, Noah could be every bit as bossy as his much younger brother, but he took her refusal to obey in stride.

Noah wasn’t Jerome. He’d gone out of his way to put her at ease despite his dominating tendencies. And if she could still feel the touch of his fingers against her bare skin, well, she’d just have to find ways to become more independent while her hand was in a cast—especially when it came to the awkward process of getting dressed.

Most of her belongings were at Laura’s apartment and that was going to require an explanation. Noah was bound to think it odd that she and Jerome had separate bedrooms. She should just tell him the truth and be done with it, but she was embarrassed. She didn’t want to see disdain in Noah’s expression. Or pity. Jerome had been his brother. What would Noah think when he discovered their marriage had been a total sham from the start?

Her gaze fell on the deep blue African violet. She thought of the plant stand in her bedroom where a dozen more violets sat beneath the window. She’d planned to move them all to Laura’s place this week.

She ran her finger gently over a soft round leaf. Noah couldn’t possibly know how much she loved the delicate plants. Unless he’d already been inside the apartment. Or Jerome had told him. The brothers had been doing a lot of talking in recent months. Jerome was excited by that fact.

In fact, Noah had called during her final battle with Jerome. While the two were on the phone, she’d packed her bags and left the apartment. The decision hadn’t been easy. She wasn’t a quitter by nature, but she also wasn’t going to become a victim in a relationship that was becoming more and more turbulent.

She and Jerome had married because they seemed to like each other and wanted to raise a family. It had been that simple and that complicated. She’d accepted that they would never have a normal physical relationship. She’d thought having a child was all that mattered. She thought of her reaction to Noah and shook her head. It was hard to believe her sheer stupidity.

Sydney stared at the rings on her finger. How had it come to this? She hated knowing Jerome had died while bitter words lay between them. And her guilt was compounded by her bizarre attraction to Noah.

Her gaze slid to the bathroom door. Noah had left it slightly ajar, probably so he’d hear her if she called out. She was touched by his unexpected kindness, yet disturbed by the way her body responded to him. She wasn’t sure how to act around this stranger who was suddenly her self-proclaimed protector.

The scent she’d come to associate with Noah wafted out on wisps of steam. It amazed her to realize that, despite her mix of feelings, she felt safe with Noah.

When he finally stepped into the room, her gaze was instantly drawn to his broad chest, still damp from his shower. She drew in a breath as he pulled on a crisp white shirt, completely at ease with himself, and thankfully unaware of the jittery effect the sight of his bare chest had on her pulses.

Sydney jumped as someone rapped sharply on the door.

“It’s okay,” Noah said soothingly. “That will be the food. Stay there. I’ll get it.”

He returned with a wheeled cart and she sniffed appreciatively as he set out the meal. She would have preferred to do her own ordering, but she was too hungry to argue.

She did, however, eye the pot of tea in surprise.

“Not coffee?”

“My mother believed tea was a cure-all,” he explained. “When I was a kid, tea appeared every time I had a sniffle. I made out okay so I figured it couldn’t hurt in case your throat was still sore.”

She pulled the tea bag from the water. “I thought chicken soup was supposed to be the cure-all.”

When he turned that full smile on her, she forgot all the reasons she should be wary of Noah. The planes of his face softened into a devastatingly potent charm that was far more captivating than blatant good looks.

“I’ve heard that myth, too,” he agreed.

When Noah smiled like that a woman better be heavily grounded in reality, Sydney decided, or she’d find herself in a helpless puddle at his feet.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about the attacker,” she told Noah after a time, breaking their comfortable silence and shoving the remains of her lunch to one side. “I don’t think the attacker meant to choke me like that. I think he was trying to keep me from screaming and applied too much pressure. But I wish I knew what it was he wanted from me.”

Noah reached out and stroked her arm. He had rough, coarse hands with strangely long, graceful fingers. There was strength in those hands.

“You showed amazing presence of mind pressing that call button, Syd. That action probably saved your life.”

“You know, I hate being called Syd.”

He smiled, another slow smile she felt clear to her toes.

“I’ll try to remember that. What do you say we go over to your apartment and get you something to wear?”

“I’d rather not,” she said quickly.

“What’s wrong?”

How could she explain? “I’m not ready to go back to the apartment. Not just yet.”

“You’re going to have to face the place sooner or later, Syd.”

“I vote for later,” she told him firmly. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t her apartment. That it had never been her apartment. All she’d brought to her marriage were her clothes and her plants—and her dreams. The only thing left was the plants.

Noah studied her with eyes that saw far more than she wanted to reveal. “I have clothes at my…at the apartment I used to share with Laura and Hannah. It’s closer.”

“All right.”

She closed her eyes against the questions she could almost hear. Without warning, memories sprang from ambush, catching her unaware. She tried to push them aside and couldn’t.

If the nurse hadn’t come in response to her call…if she hadn’t started screaming right away…

Sydney shuddered. She felt Noah touch her arm, but her mind had suddenly shifted, drawing her back inside the bank where bright red blood had stained the white tile floor.

So much blood.

The shots echoed over and over again. She could feel the weight of Jerome’s body pressing against hers as they fell, felt her head snap back….

“Sydney! Hey, easy. Take it easy.”

“Sorry.” She couldn’t see his face. Her eyes filled with pools of tears despite her best efforts to hold them at bay. “There was so much blood.”

Noah swore softly. “How did we get from clothes to blood? Never mind. It’s okay. It’s just reaction. Everything’s all over.”

She tried to tell him that she knew it was okay. That she didn’t want to cry. But her throat was clogged with unshed tears, pushing for release.

“I should have done something.”

Noah shook his head. “There was nothing you could have done.”

He didn’t understand. He didn’t know how it had been. Jerome telling her how to dress, how to act. Her words bouncing off his anger without impact. Attempts to communicate that failed repeatedly.

She shook her head from side to side. The kaleidoscope of images was becoming all twisted and confused. Noah’s hand rested kindly on her shoulder, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. Couldn’t bear to see his pity.

Jerome was dead, but she was pregnant and someone wanted to hurt her. What was she going to do?

She didn’t remember moving, but she found herself sitting on the bed, her face pressed against Noah’s hard chest while tears matted his clean white shirt. Fear and horror mingled with hopeless regret. They spilled into racking sobs she couldn’t contain.

She cried forever, unable to stop. Only when a teardrop brushed her forehead did she manage to rein in the tide of emotions. Noah was crying, too? The idea that this strong man could shed a tear for his brother finally stemmed her own grief.

How Jerome would have loved this scene.

Sydney brushed at her wet face, unable to look at Noah. He stroked her hair then stood and strode into the bathroom. She’d embarrassed him as well as herself.

Water ran in the basin. When he returned, he handed her a damp washcloth. Gratefully, she wiped her face, aware that her damp hair was plastered around it.

“Excuse me.” She fled into the bathroom without looking at him.

Noah didn’t move as she disappeared. He was as shaken by his own grief as he was by hers.

The hair dryer started and he wondered how she was going to dry her hair with only one hand. Then he decided he didn’t care as long as she didn’t ask him for help.

He’d thought he had complete control of his emotions—until Sydney came apart in his arms. Her helpless anguish had finally released the grief he had buried right along with his parents, and now his only brother. It was as if Sydney had given him a conduit to his own emotions.

Noah had deliberately fostered the distance between himself and his brother when he was younger. He’d been unable and unwilling to accept Jerome, because it meant accepting his father’s infidelity. Noah would live with that regret for the rest of his life.

He couldn’t go back, but he could move forward. And forward meant Sydney and the child she carried. She didn’t seem to realize that the baby was an unbreakable connection between them. A biological link that meant he would never be able to walk away from his brother’s wife.

Part of him was selfishly glad.

Noah expelled a sigh and repacked his bag. He checked the room for loose articles and called the front desk to check out. All he needed was his shaving gear and he’d be ready to go.

The telephone rang.

Noah eyed the instrument with suspicion. “Hello?”

“Major Inglewood? Agent Wickowski. I’m sorry to bother you, but we need to come up and talk with Sydney right away.”

“This isn’t a go—”

“They fished a man out of the Potomac River a little while ago.”

“So?”

“Long hair? Beard? Mustache? Ring a few bells, Major?”

Noah sucked in his breath.

“He was wearing hospital scrubs and carrying Sydney’s wallet. Someone shot him in the head at point-blank range.”