My Baby, My Love

Sydney looked at the open drawer in her nightstand. Then she regarded the dinner tray.

And maybe she wasn’t.

Despite the nurse’s assurances, there had been something frightening about the orderly. If she was paranoid, so be it. Sydney wanted to go home.

Only, where was home? Certainly not the apartment she’d so briefly shared with Jerome. She couldn’t go back there, any more than she could take back the things she’d said to him the last time they’d talked.

She had meant every word, but that only added to her guilt. Theirs had never been a normal marriage, but she’d gone into the situation with her eyes open—for the most part. Nothing could have prepared her for the changes in Jerome once they married. Yet, despite all their battles, she’d never wished him ill. They’d made a mistake. A mistake she’d been trying to rectify.

Whether by accident or design, she couldn’t forget that Jerome had saved her life.

Sydney closed her eyes, turned her face into her pillow and gave in to the grief and fear suddenly crowding her mind. Sobs finally turned to hiccups, leaving her spent and listless. She must have fallen deeply asleep because she didn’t see or hear whoever came in and took away her tray and cleaned up the broken vase of flowers.

Surprisingly, when she did wake, even her head felt better. Time passed slowly. Her eyes were closing again when someone entered the room. His scent reached her before she could turn her head to look in his direction. When she did, she had to battle another sudden wave of vertigo.

“You still look pretty bad,” Noah said.

He was a tall, powerfully built man who carried himself with an air of assurance and authority that commanded attention. Alpha male, she thought. Used to being in charge. Yet instead of being repelled by this, she was curiously drawn to Noah.

He came to a halt beside her bed. Up close, she saw that circles pouched beneath Noah’s eyes and lines of strain marred his strong features.

“Have you looked in a mirror recently?” she managed to respond, uncomfortably aware on a feminine level of how disheveled she must appear. It was crazy, this jolt of physical awareness she felt when he looked at her.

She wanted to ask him where he’d been. Why he hadn’t come back as he promised earlier. Only she was afraid the questions would sound whiny. So she lifted her chin and met his gaze without flinching and tried to ignore the unsettling feelings deep inside.

Noah regarded her solemnly. He held an offering in his hand. A small African violet, she realized. She swallowed hard to keep unexpected tears at bay. What was happening to her emotions? Those tiny, velvety blue blossoms represented peace and contentment in her world. He couldn’t have chosen anything better—or anything worse.

“Please. I want to go home.”

She’d meant to thank him. The childish request came out instead. Noah set the plant on her nightstand.

“The doctor said maybe tomorrow.”

She shook her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. Stabbing pain lanced through her skull. Sydney gritted her teeth. “Now.”

“You must be feeling better.”

That didn’t merit a response.

“Your friends are worried,” he told her. “Hannah’s new husband, Bruce, had a real battle to get her to leave on their honeymoon.”

Astounded, she gaped at him. “I forgot all about the wedding!” She was to have been one of Hannah’s bridesmaids. No wonder none of her friends had come by to see her.

Noah walked to the narrow window near her bed and looked out. “Hannah wanted to wait, but Laura and Bruce convinced her you would want her to go ahead with the ceremony.”

Sydney nipped a trace of regret. She fervently wished she could have been there, but she was honestly glad Hannah hadn’t postponed her wedding. Hannah and Bruce were so passionately in love that at times it was almost embarrassing.

“They tried to see you yesterday before the service,” Noah continued, “but the police were with you. The doctor left instructions that you weren’t to have visitors.”

Sydney stared at him, appalled. “I would have seen them! No one told me they were here.”

“No. I don’t imagine they did.” He pulled a heavy visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down. He wasn’t wearing his military uniform anymore, yet the formal white shirt and dark dress pants were practically a uniform when worn with such commanding elegance.

“You have loyal friends,” he said slowly. “First, Hannah wanted to postpone the wedding, then she wanted to postpone the honeymoon.”

“Oh. She didn’t—”

“No, she didn’t. She and Bruce left as scheduled.”

Sydney relaxed. “How do you know them?”

“We spent a lot of time together in the waiting room. They even invited me to the wedding. I like your friends.”

“So do I.”

“Your friend, Laura, tried to cancel her flight out this morning, but she couldn’t. She was going to try and make a last-minute swap. If she succeeds, she’ll be by in the morning.”

Laura was a flight attendant who’d complained long and hard about having to make a cross-country trip right after Hannah’s wedding. Sydney remembered how they’d teased her about restricting her champagne intake. It felt like a lifetime ago. Now Hannah was married and Jerome was dead and nothing would ever be the same again.

“Easy,” Noah said gently. He stared at her with un-blinking eyes. Why did his presence seem to offer safety in a world gone mad? She had to stop thinking like that.

“I feel like I’m living in a nightmare. Tell me something, if I wasn’t supposed to have visitors, how come they let you in?” she demanded, unsettled by her awareness of him. In truth, she suspected Noah hadn’t waited for an invitation. Pesky things like hospital rules wouldn’t stop him if he wanted something.

“I’m considered family.”

Family. Her hand rested against her stomach. His eyes followed the motion and an intense look entered his features.

“We have to talk about this situation, Sydney.”

He knew about the baby. It was there in his eyes. She thought of the new life growing inside her, of her tumultuous relationship with his brother, and she tried not to let her sudden shudder show.

“Is everything all right?” His gaze fell to her abdomen. She resisted an impulse to touch her stomach again. She was oddly embarrassed by his knowledge of her condition.

“Everything’s fine.” Her entire world had just collapsed and been reformed, but everything was fine. Realizing she was about to give in to another bout of self-pity, Sydney sat up. “Would you find my clothing, please? I want to go home.”

“We need to talk about the baby and your plans, Sydney.”

“I want to get out of here,” she repeated.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tonight!”

His brow furrowed. “You need to think of the baby.”

She closed her eyes against the pain that came from more than simply her throbbing head.

“Jerome’s baby.” As if she could think of anything else right now.

Noah’s expression darkened. She couldn’t think about him right now. Her head pounded with thoughts of the baby. She’d wanted a child badly enough to marry the wrong man just to have one. What a fool she’d been. Didn’t they always say, be careful what you wish for?

Sydney pulled back the covers, ignoring Noah’s frown, and started to swing her legs off the bed. He moved so quickly he startled her. His hand came down on her shoulder, kindly, but firmly. She couldn’t meet his eyes. They saw entirely too much.

“I want my clothes.”

“You don’t have any clothes here, Sydney. They cut them off your body to check for injuries. You were covered in blood.”

“Then I’ll go home naked.”

He half smiled. Her breath caught in her throat. Why, he was handsome. Nothing like Jerome, of course, but he would age with a depth and grace that would make him more striking with every year.

What was she thinking? She didn’t care what Noah looked like. The man was her husband’s brother!

“You won’t have to go home naked,” he was saying. “I’ll stop by your apartment first thing in the morning and get you something to wear home.”

“No!” She swallowed her instant panic and tried for a calm she was far from feeling. “I need to leave now.”

All traces of humor disappeared from his face. He misunderstood her panic and regarded her steadily. “Are you always this bossy?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t bring herself to correct his impression. As soon as he saw the apartment she’d shared with his brother, he’d know how bad things had been between them. She wasn’t ready to answer the sort of questions he would then ask. And he would demand explanations as soon as he realized how many of her belongings were gone from the apartment she’d supposedly shared with Jerome.

“You must have led Jerome around like a puppy.”

The unfairness of his words stung. They couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He knew nothing about her relationship with Jerome. And she wasn’t about to tell him any details, either. She owed Jerome that much.

“The doctor said tomorrow morning,” Noah temporized. “If you’re well enough.”

“I’m well enough right now.” It was only a small lie. She felt weaker than a day-old kitten. A mangled, day-old kitten with a headache. But she could manage. She was used to managing.

Noah tipped his head to regard her. “My father told me I should never call a lady a liar.”

“But you’ll make an exception in my case?”

He ignored her challenge completely. “Morning is only a few hours away,” he stated. “Get a good night’s sleep and then we’ll talk.”

She thought of the nightmare and controlled another shudder.

“I’ll make a few arrangements and bring you something to wear,” he finished.

“What sort of arrangements?”

“You’re going to need help.”

She shook her head. The room spun slightly, forcing her eyes closed to combat the sensation. The doctor had said the vertigo would eventually go away. She should have asked him to define “eventually.”

“I won’t need any help,” she told Noah. She kept her eyes shut to avoid looking up at him. “And if I do, that’s my problem.”

“And the baby?”

“Jerome is dead. The baby is my problem as well.”

She would never allow another man in her life who thought he could tell her what to do or how to do it.

“I’d like to help.”

That snapped her eyes open. “Why?”

His eyes flared with a tumble of emotions. He started to respond and stopped. Sydney realized she was rubbing her temples to try and ease the pounding pain in her head and dropped her hands to the sheet. Noah walked to the window. Silence stretched between them.

“Sydney, I signed the papers to have my only brother buried yesterday morning,” Noah said suddenly. “There was nothing I could do to help him. Won’t you at least let me try to help you?”

His words shocked her anew. “You already had Jerome buried?”

“Yes. We’ll hold a memorial service for him when you’re well enough.”

“You had no right!”

Noah turned back to her, sadness etched in the creases about his eyes. His expression was filled with regret and compassion. “I guess not. I’m sorry, Sydney.”

She couldn’t stand the pain in Noah’s expression. The truth was, he did have rights. Probably more than she had. His remorse disturbed her almost as much as the chaos of her thoughts. Noah wasn’t to blame for anything. He was doing his best to help, yet she was snapping at him like a rabid dog.

“Why didn’t you wait?” she asked more calmly.

“The morgue released the body. I had decisions to make—so I made them.”

His small shrug tugged at her heart. Despite his size and self-assurance, Noah was a vulnerable man.

“Your concussion had the doctors worried,” he continued. “You kept slipping in and out of consciousness. They didn’t know how soon you’d be able to make decisions.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” And she did. She would have made the same arrangements if she’d been able to. She settled back against the bed, suddenly exhausted.

He rested his hand lightly on her arm. “Thank you.”

“No. I’m the one who should be thanking you. For the plant and…for everything else.” His touch disturbed her.

Who was she trying to kid? Everything about him disturbed her. He was a kind, caring sort of man.

He was also Jerome’s brother.

“Did you know Jerome saved my life?” she asked, wanting to erase some of the hurt he must be feeling.

“The investigators told me.” A muscle, clenched too tightly, twitched in Noah’s stern jaw. “He must have loved you very much.”

Oh, God. The truth lay bitterly in her mind. Could Noah read that truth in her eyes? She closed them against his invasive stare.

“I’d like to take care of you, Sydney. At least make sure you and the baby are settled and have everything you need.”

She turned away and shoved a hand through her hair. Noah was Jerome’s brother, but he was also a stranger. She’d learned a long time ago that the only one she could depend on was herself. “I appreciate the offer, but—”

He stopped her words with an outstretched palm. “Please. Just stay here and rest until morning like the doctor ordered. Then I’ll see about getting you sprung. When you’re feeling stronger, you can tell me to go if that’s what you want. In the meantime—”

“And will you?” Or would he be like Jerome, turning possessive, demanding, insistent that things had to be his way or no way?

Noah’s lips gave a wry twist. “Will I go? Well, maybe not right away, but I’d rather have this battle when you don’t look like a puff of wind could blow you over. If you’ll give me the keys to your apartment…”

Sydney pointed at the nightstand as lethargy settled over her. Sooner or later he was going to learn the truth. Did it really make any difference if he went to the apartment now?

Noah reached into the drawer next to her bed and withdrew her purse. Sydney found her gaze riveted on the dark stains that marred the white leather surface. As he fished out her keys, images flashed before her eyes. Soda and blood. The bank enclosure had run with both.

She slumped back against the pillow. Bile rose in her throat.

“Hey. What is it? Are you feeling sick? Should I call for the nurse?”

“No.” She choked out the word and shut her eyes. “Could you…would you take the purse away with you?”

Her blood, Mrs. Argossy’s or Jerome’s? Did it matter? She never wanted to see that handbag again.

Without a word, he emptied the contents into the open drawer. “I’ll bring you another purse tomorrow. Is there a particular outfit you’d like?” he asked.

Sydney shook her head.

Once again, his hand rested lightly on her shoulder. The gesture offered both friendship and concern.

“Get some rest tonight. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’m not your responsibility.” She had to say it even though part of her was selfishly glad he cared. She was so tired of always being strong.

“I know. I’ll be back. Call if you need anything. I left the hotel number under your telephone.”

“Thank you.”

She watched him disappear through the doorway and reaffirmed the decision she’d made when she’d faced the investigators. Jerome was the father of her baby. The man who had saved her life. He’d been Noah’s only family, and in the eyes of the world, Jerome had died a hero.

No one would ever learn what she suspected.

THEY WOKE HER again to give her a sleeping pill. She couldn’t believe they actually did that. Groggily, she accepted the pill, put it in her mouth and swallowed the water. As soon as the nurse left, Sydney spit the pill out. She didn’t need drugs that would make her fuzzy. She needed a clear head in the morning so they’d let her go home. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

It could have been minutes or hours later when she roused from another disturbing cycle of dreams. Her heart was beating much too fast and her breath came in short pants. She struggled to focus on yet another person entering her room. How was she supposed to get any rest when they kept waking her every time she fell asleep?

Darkness shadowed the room. Restlessly, she watched the person close the door to the hallway without a sound. The empty bed next to hers took on a ghostly appearance in the dim light filtering in through the solitary window. Maybe that was why the figure’s approach appeared almost stealthy.

Sydney’s heart began thumping more quickly.

The person was too silent. He’d closed the door. A nurse who’d come to check on her wouldn’t close the door. Instantly, she pictured the bearded orderly.

Slowly, she inched her fingers toward the call light, afraid to let him know she was awake. The impression of danger grew stronger as the person neared the bed. There was something wrong with his face. Her vision shouldn’t be blurry. She hadn’t swallowed the sleeping pill. Yet she couldn’t make out any features.

Her fingers found the call button. Sydney pressed it as the man suddenly rushed forward, knocking the button from her hand.

Sydney screamed. A rubber-glove-encased hand clamped over her mouth, choking off the sound. The other hand circled her throat in a breath-stealing grip.

In that instant, she realized he wore a ski mask over his head.

Desperately, she threw herself to one side. Pain radiated down her arm as her bandaged hand struck the bed rail.

“Where is it?”

The waft of garlic was sickening. She clawed at those short, blunt fingers pressing into her throat. He was incredibly strong. She couldn’t breathe!

She beat at his face while his voice continued to demand. Didn’t he realize she couldn’t answer? If she could just reach his eyes!

Blackness dimmed her vision. Her head swam with vertigo.

Noah had been wrong. Following the doctor’s orders had been a terrible idea. In fact, it was about to get her killed.

CHAPTER TWO

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.