For Her Protection

“Where are we?” The sleepy voice came from the back seat.

“Almost to North Carolina. You getting hungry, James?”

“Kinda. I guess I am.” Luke watched in the rearview mirror as his little friend rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “But you don’t hafta stop for me. Wait till Sarah gets to crying. Then you’ll hafta stop anyway.”

“Sarah will need her nappie changed. I should’ve seen to it before we left.” Luke heard the husky thread of sleepiness in Jilly’s voice and resolutely chose to ignore the jolt of awareness that crawled through his system.

“It’s a diaper, Jilly. Not a nappie. If you’re gonna live here, you gotta learn to talk like us.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw her wince, but then she straightened and smiled. “Good morning to you, too, James. I’m simply divine. Thank you ever so much for asking.”

The little man received her message loud and clear. James scowled and his cheeks got pink, but he muttered a surly good morning under his breath.

“Good morning to you, too, Luke. I feel I must apologize for my rude behavior earlier. I should have warned you that I tend to be rather foul in the mornings, especially before I’ve had any caffeine.”

He knew the coffee thing would come back to haunt him. He glanced over and was surprised to discover the halfhearted smile that had formed when she began lecturing James had broadened by the time her gaze met his. Her eyes were smiling, too.

“Perhaps we can start over. I promise I’ll be much less grumpy for the rest of the day.”

“You’re forgiven. In the future I’ll try not to wake you like I did this morning.” He shot a careful glance to the rearview mirror. Jilly caught his look and nodded slightly. With James awake, their talk would have to wait until later.

“We’ll need to stop soon for gas. I promise I’ll get you a big cup of coffee then. I had one for you this morning but I spilled it on my way back to the room.”

Flung, actually. Into the face of one of the hitmen Sloan had sent to track him down. Sadly, Luke’s cup had spilled into the crotch of the other moron who’d made the huge mistake of going for his gun. The wheezing air conditioner had covered the sound of his screams. That and the pillow he’d pushed into his face before knocking them both out for good. On the plus side, he’d gained two more weapons. A Glock 9 mm and a relatively decent-looking .45. He just hoped he wouldn’t end up needing to use them.

They’d left too many bodies behind at the motel. Only one dead one, but that would be enough to trigger an all-out man-hunt as soon as the night clerk was discovered. The agency would be there by now. Sloan’s thugs were long gone, but Luke sensed they wouldn’t give up anytime soon. If there was one rule in the drug-running handbook it was that witnesses couldn’t live. Sloan’s failure to kill him this morning had only upped the stakes. But he didn’t waste time worrying about that. By tonight the whole thing would be over. Jillian and the kids would be safe. And as for him…if Sloan found him, so be it. He didn’t particularly care one way or the other.

He shot a quick glance at Jilly. She was humming softly as she gazed out the window. He found it incredible that she wasn’t mad anymore. It made him wonder how she let go of her anger so quickly. How it disappeared—leaving no bitterness, no sarcastic aftereffects to keep it brewing. No cold shoulder that would take on a life of its own. Hell, nearly every argument he’d ever had with Linda had ended in a silent treatment that lingered so long he eventually forgot what the original disagreement had been about.

“How come we got up so early?” James’s voice had him glancing in the mirror again.

Luke shot a subtle warning look at Jilly. “I don’t know about you, kid, but I like driving in the morning. The road’s clear and it’s nice an’ quiet.”

James thought about it for a minute before slowly nodding his head. “Yeah, you’re right, Luke. Me, too.” He yawned again and then directed his attention at the back of Jilly’s head. “Jilly, I think we should drive in the mornin’ when we go to New York.”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed as she glanced at Luke. “As soon as Mr. Gianetti says we’re able to leave, we’ll get up very early and drive while it’s still dark, like we did today.”

“Cool. Maybe I could sit up front? You’ll need a good copilot.”

Jilly appeared shocked, but then quickly flushed with pleasure at his suggestion. Luke noticed she didn’t correct him on the New Hampshire part. He’d sensed the resentment James had toward her, and was curious as to the cause.

“Why, I’d love to have you as my copilot, James. You can hold the maps for me.”

“Mama? I need go potty. I gotta go real bad.”

Luke adjusted the mirror to include Samuel’s sleepy face. His eyes were wide and blue, the color not unlike Jill’s. The poor kid musta had six different cowlicks to go along with his morning bedhead.

“She’s not our mother, stupid!” James’s voice went from friendly to enraged in half a second.

“I not ’tupid.”

“James, he’s half asleep, for goodness’ sake. He made a mistake. Leave him alone,” Jilly instructed gently. She glanced at Luke for confirmation before turning to smile at Samuel. “Can you hold it, lovey? Just for a few minutes?” She grinned when he nodded his head. “Luke will be stopping just as soon as he spots a safe place.”

“You’re not our mom. You’re n-nothing like M-Mommy.” James gulped in a rush of air. “She was beautiful an…and…”

Luke watched her eyes soften as she directed her attention to James, who had started sniffling. She tried to hand him a tissue, but he turned away.

“James, I know I’m not your mum. I know you miss her. I miss her, too. But someone has to take care of you three and I’m the only one here to do that.”

“There’s my dad! If he kn-knew what you’d d-done…he’d come get me. He’d come for me, I know he would have. If you h-hadn’t made us leave.” James was crying in earnest now. “Now he’ll never find me. I hate you!”

Jilly’s eyes filled with tears and she quickly scrubbed them away as she turned back to face the front. Luke shot her an inquiring look, but she refused to meet it. “James, please…try and keep your voice down. Let’s not wake up Sarah. We can talk about it when we stop in a few minutes.”

“I don’t wanna t-talk to you. I wanna live with my d-daddy.”

“Hey, buddy. Let’s cut her some slack, okay?” Luke paused for a moment, unsure whether or not he should interfere. But frankly, he had enough to deal with just keeping them all alive. He’d get a monster-size headache if he had to listen to wailing kids. “Listen, pal, Jilly’s just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protectin’.”

“Maybe not,” he conceded. “But what about your brother? What about your baby sister?” He didn’t give James another chance to argue. “Since you’re the oldest, I thought maybe you could help me.”

“You want my help? Is this like…with bad guys?”

He did a quick mental shrug. If it gained him some quiet time, who was he to argue? “Sort of,” he said cautiously. “This mission involves driving you guys and Jilly to a safe place…and we need to get there as soon as possible. And we need to keep it secret.”

“You mean, like spies?”

“Yeah, we need to move quickly and quietly. So I need your help keeping your brother occupied.” He glanced at James in the rearview mirror. “That way, no one will notice us very much.”

“You gonna show me that bullet hole in your ass?” he asked as he sniffed away the last of his tears.

“James! For the last time, if I hear any more cursing out of you, you’ll be chewing on a bar of soap.” Jilly’s eyes snapped with temper.

Luke tried hard not to crack up. He swallowed the laughter that threatened to erupt from his chest. His lips still twitching, he forced himself to look out the window. The kid was funny as hell, yet still so innocent. And Jillian, with her very proper British accent sounded like she was ready to explode. Sweet Jesus… Just what kind of mess had he gotten himself into this time?

“You know, James, I’d listen to her if I were you. I’ve had the soap-in-the-mouth treatment.” He slid his glance over to Jillian and found that her frown included him. “And it really suck— It’s pretty bad,” he quickly corrected as she rolled her eyes.

“I can see it worked like a bloody charm on you,” she muttered under her breath. “Every other word out of your mouth is foul.”

“Trust me. You’re not gonna like it,” he finished, ignoring her. “Tell you what.” He paused to see if Mary Poppins was listening. “I’ll do it, too.”

James’s eyes got huge in the rearview mirror when Jillian burst out laughing. “You will? For real, Luke?”

“Yeah. If I say a bad word, then Jilly can wash my mouth out with soap, too. Is that a fair deal?”

“Do I still get to look at your a—your bullet hole?”

The kid had a one-track mind. “Yes, James. When we stop, I’ll let you see the bullet hole, all right?”

“Actually, now that you mention it, I need to take a look, too. Your bandage probably needs to be changed.”

Mary Poppins’s words were spoken crisply and matter-of-factly but he could see the color rise in her cheeks. Little Miss Efficient. If it were possible, she was dreading the task even more than he was. “That’s okay. I think I can handle it from here. You give me the stuff and I’ll take care of it.”

“How will you reach—”

“Jill, I said I’ll handle it.”

“Very well then.” He nearly grinned when she nodded and abruptly turned to the window, suddenly fascinated by the endless miles of green pasture that blurred past the window.

They all felt considerably better after the rest stop. Samuel got to pee, Sarah got a fresh diaper and Jilly finally got her coffee, which she sipped gratefully, waiting for the caffeine to make its presence known. Even James had declared a truce with her, albeit a grudging one. She wondered how long it would take to break through his stony silence, how long before he trusted that she wouldn’t leave them. Before he trusted anyone to stay.

Despite the considerable distance they’d covered, Agent Gianetti still appeared to be rather cautious. He’d insisted they get their breakfast to take away, choosing to head for a deserted park down the street from the fast-food place rather than eat inside the restaurant. Inadvertently he’d scored high points with James and Samuel who were thrilled to eat outside.

“Just because we’re eating at a picnic table doesn’t mean you should chew with your mouth open, Samuel.” Over the past three days she’d begun the arduous task of instilling in the children the most basic of table manners and the boys hadn’t been eager to embrace her instruction. Good Lord, if Rosemary Moseby could see them now, she would surely die of the shame.

“Jilly? Can we go play on the swings?”

“I’m sorry, did you ask that question with your mouth full?” She hid her smile as she bent over Sarah on the blanket she’d spread on the ground near the table. Even the little one appeared thrilled to be out of her car seat.

James chewed vigorously, swallowing the lump of biscuit in one gulp. “No, it’s gone, see?” He opened his mouth wide for her perusal and she shuddered visibly. Behind her, Luke smothered a chuckle.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, she reminded herself. At least he’d asked her permission. She glanced at Luke for confirmation and he nodded. “Very well then, James. You may take your brother over to the swingset for a little while.”

“Just a couple minutes, okay, guys?”

“Uh-huh. Thanks, Luke.”

“Take Samuel’s hand so he doesn’t fall,” she reminded James. He grabbed his brother’s hand, nearly jerking him off his feet, and launched across the field toward the swings.

“Did you make contact with your friend?” Her gaze still on Sarah, who was kicking up a storm, she heard Luke slide down the picnic table bench.

“Yeah, finally. Murphy—he’s my partner—said we left behind a big mess. Two guys are dead and two more are in custody. Said all hell—heck—broke out,” he quickly corrected when she smiled. “Somehow a transformer blew and the power grid went out for almost twenty blocks. That’s why I couldn’t reach anyone by phone.”

“How many bars of soap is that now?” She glanced up, shading her eyes to search the deserted playground for Samuel and James.

“I’m doing pretty well so far,” he countered.

She shot him a reproving look. “It’s only been two hours and you’re on at least your third bar.”

He grinned. “Like I said, I’m doing pretty well.”

“What happens now? Are we free to leave? Can we continue north or must we go all the way back to South Carolina?” She picked up her coffee, took a sip and then carefully set it back on the table near the blanket. “Can we drop you off in Charlotte, like you said earlier?”

“For now it looks like Charlotte,” he answered. “I’m not going back to Spartaville yet. At least not with the four of you in tow.” Luke set his juice down on the edge of the picnic table and smiled over the hopeful tone of her voice. “Murphy’s setting up a meeting with the SAC in Charlotte to take your statement.”

“But I don’t have a statement. I barely saw the man. I couldn’t possibly recognize him.”

“I know you’re eager to hit the road.” He hesitated, appearing to choose his words carefully. “I know this is inconvenient, but I still don’t like it. Duncan, my boss, seems to think this thing is under control. But those guys this morning…” He shook his head. “There’re too many missing pieces, if you ask me.”

“What exactly did happen this morning? Are we still in danger?” It didn’t feel as though they were. Yet when he’d burst through the motel room door this morning, she’d been terrified. His demeanor had been that of a warrior, the expression in his eyes deadly serious. And the intensity of his aura had been enough to make her skin prickle with fear.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m being so cautious,” he admitted. “Ever since the explosion yesterday, nothing has gone according to plan. Now someone’s after us. Most likely it’s Sloan or someone who works for him.”

“Sloan is the drug dealer?” She picked up a rattle and gently shook it over Sarah’s face.

“Yeah. He’s pretty nasty on a good day, but he’s unbelievable when his plans get fouled up. Right now, he’s ticked at me.”

“Because you were trying to arrest him?”

“Sloan is one of the biggest heroin dealers in the southeast. Yeah, I was trying to nail him. If I hook him then I can finally get a lead on the supplier. There’s one guy—one freakin’ guy running this ring and we can’t figure out who he is. Goes by the name of Castillo. I don’t know if it’s really his name or if it’s a place—nothing. Whoever he is, people sure as hell fear him.”

“Well, did you get him—this Sloan person?”

“No. Murphy said we got a couple of his flunkies, but Sloan disappeared.”

Luke was clearly displeased with the outcome of his mission thus far. “Once we drop you off in Charlotte, we should be safe enough, right? I mean, if he’s after you…” She felt guilty even voicing the statement. Here he was, protecting them and all. But dammit, she hadn’t asked for any of this.

“Maybe.” To his credit, Luke didn’t appear angered over her disloyalty.

“Then we can go?”

“We’ll see.” His noncommittal response sent angry heat to her cheeks.

“What does that mean? You can’t hold us indefinitely.”

“I cahn’t?”

“Stop teasing,” she ordered. “Why can’t we leave?”

“Are you forgetting that you saw him, too? I can’t be sure that he’s only after me. If I let you leave, he could just as easily send someone after you.”

“Well, if he’s on the run like you say—”

“It doesn’t mean a thing,” he interrupted. “Last night two men were ordered to take me out,” he emphasized. Several seconds passed before he spoke again. “Those orders may have included you.”

“But that means we’re in danger whether we’re with you or not.”

The sun shone warm on the back of her neck, mocking the shiver that jolted up her spine. The sound of mingled laughter carried across the field from the swingset, blending with the birds chirping in the magnolia tree behind them. It felt completely safe.

Yet the blood on his hands had been incredibly real. The spatters on his shirt defied the illusion of safety. “Your shirt…I mean the, um, blood and everything. Those men— Did you…I mean, you didn’t have to—”

Jillian glanced up, her expression clearly anxious. Christ, she was actually worried that he’d killed those scumbags. It was the typical bleeding-heart reaction Luke saw all too often and he could feel his blood pressure rising. Drugs and drug dealers were a plague that needed to be dealt with harshly. Drug abuse was not a feel-good social cause. Period. Luke mused that Jillian was probably one of those types who thought addicts should be coddled rather than tossed into jail. Her Ladyship didn’t want to believe those guys would’ve killed her in a heartbeat. She didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that he’d probably saved her royal ass.

“You weren’t hurt again, were you?”

Hold everything. She was worried…for him? “Nah, I’m fine. And I didn’t have to—you know, kill anyone.” He paused then and frowned. He shouldn’t be telling this woman anything. He had a job to do, no matter what it took to accomplish it. Why was he wasting time trying to reassure her?

“But the blood on your—”

“I just had to disable them. There’s a big difference.” It probably wasn’t a good time to tell her about the desk clerk’s fate. Or how close they’d come to meeting the same end. He glanced down at the front of his shirt, noticing the faint spatters of blood for the first time. “Is it really noticeable from where you’re sitting?”

She squinted up at him, shading her eyes from the sun that rose behind him. Luke’s nerve endings felt her perusal all the way to the top of his head and he mentally cursed himself for being so stupid. Hands down, when this op was over, he was gonna find himself a woman. The dry spell had obviously gone on for much too long.

“No,” she said finally. “It’s sort of faded and brown. Looks more like you spilled something all over you.” Her expression changed to doubt as she wrinkled up her nose. “I have an old shirt that might fit you. My suitcase is in the boot. Before we start up again, I’ll look for it.”

“I can’t imagine you’d have anything that would fit me.” Not with that body. She was built like a dream. He stood and stretched his legs, dispelling his fantasy and draining the last of his juice before he tossed the cup in the trash can.

“I’ve got a few of Ian’s old shirts. They might work.” Jilly picked up a plastic key ring and shook it as Sarah cooed.

His interest perked up another notch. “Who’s Ian?”

She sighed and he noticed that she seemed to want to look everywhere except at him, instead choosing to scan the playground for the boys. “Oh, that’s a long story. He’s an old friend.”

Luke sat gingerly on the end of the picnic table and forced himself to drop it. This girl was none of his business. He didn’t want to know anything about her or the kids. Only what he needed to keep them alive. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter how many damn boyfriends she’d had. It didn’t matter one freakin’ bit.

After tonight, Jillian would spend a day or so in Charlotte for debriefing. Then they’d head north to resume life in what was probably a quaint little New Hampshire town. And he’d never see any of them again. The days they’d spent with him would fade in their memories until it became just another funny story of Jilly’s adventures.

But just because they were safe for the moment, didn’t mean he could afford to let down his guard. He needed to stay focused. Nothing about this op had been routine. Even Murphy had been reluctant to start the final reports on the failed mission. Something wasn’t right. He just didn’t know what. But his gut still strummed on red alert, telling him to keep them out of sight. He’d never ignored his gut before. He sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.

Annoyed with himself, he readjusted his position on the end of the table. Despite the gauze padding and the glow-in-the-dark Band-Aids, his butt was still pretty sore. What he really needed was underwear. When James had discovered in the men’s room that Luke wasn’t wearing any briefs, he’d wanted to rid himself of his Spider-Man underpants. And Samuel would’ve followed right along. A trio of men going commando. Now wouldn’t Her Ladyship have appreciated that?

She glanced over just in time to see him wince. “What is it? Is your wound hurting? I knew you should’ve let me clean it.”

“What is it with this fascination for my butt? You took one look at it and now that’s all you can think about,” he said, forgetting that he was trying to maintain a professional distance. Something about that British accent made him want to prod her. So cool on the outside…so prim and proper. But just under the surface—lava, baby.

She pressed her lips together and frowned. “Yes…well, as fascinating as I found your backside, it simply didn’t stop traffic for me—if you know what I mean.” She finally turned to stare at him. “I realize it’s probably not possible, but if you could be serious for a single moment…”

“Sure. Try me.”

“I’m trying to determine whether or not you’re in pain. I have more of those pills.”

“The chick stuff?” He shook his head. “You know, all of a sudden, my cramps are much better.” Her Ladyship had a damn fine temper, he noted. He couldn’t tell whether she wanted to laugh or haul off and smack him.

“Is your injury hurting worse?”

“Oh, that.” He waved away her concern. “Nah, it’s fine. Just a little sore, that’s all. It’s draining okay and I cleaned it with the stuff you gave me. Stop worrying about it.”

“It sounds like you’ve had some experience. Have you been shot before?”

He limped over to the blanket and gingerly sat down, and before he realized it, he’d reached out a finger and was tickling Sarah’s belly. “Only a few times.”

Her eyes were incredulous. “Only a few? Good Lord. What does your wife think about your line of work?”

He smiled at the now chortling Sarah. “Not very much. She, uh, left me four years ago.”

Jilly tsked under her breath. “I’m sorry about that. Were you married long? You don’t look very old.”

“Six years. We met in college.” He glanced up, reading the sympathy in her eyes. She really was way too soft.

“And how long have you been doing this drug thing—chasing dangerous criminals?”

“This thing I’ve been doing is called drug enforcement and I’ve been doing it for ten years, since I graduated from college.” He knelt down on the blanket and made a face at Sarah and was rewarded with a smile.

“Well, you must be pretty good at it,” she answered as she tucked a strand of hair back into her ponytail. “Or I guess you would’ve gotten yourself killed by now.”

Luke did a double take and then realized she wasn’t being sarcastic, only direct. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. What about you?” he challenged. “Ever been married?”

She made a face as though she’d just sipped bitter lemonade and wanted to spit it out. “No, thank goodness. I almost did, though. What a mistake that would’ve been.” She shook her head ruefully. “How’s that for absurd? I’m twenty-seven years old and I still have trouble saying no. My mum nearly had me talked into marrying the man she wanted. In her eyes, he was bloody perfect.”

He smiled over her disgruntled expression. It wasn’t hard to believe at all. Jillian struck him as the kind of girl who leaped first and then thought about looking when it was too late. “So, what stopped you?”

The gray-blue eyes grew very wide, almost startled. “Why, the children, of course. I mean, I was going to break it off anyway. We were so completely different,” she added absently. “But then I got the call about my sister.”

Her voice catching, he watched her eyes grow suspiciously misty. Warning bells jangled in his gut. Somehow he’d managed to push the wrong conversational button. She rubbed her arms, as though she’d suddenly realized she was cold.