Hot Zone (17 page)

The need to see this settled within him grew more urgent than ever. Aiden was already stressed to the max with the adoption. But hearing she was pregnant as well? She didn’t even want to think about his reaction.

And there was no doubt about it. Aiden, her brilliant husband who traveled to the most dangerous parts of the world to help others, was terrified of becoming a father. He’d always told her it was because he had no role model of his own and he refused to shortchange a kid by being a crappy parent. She’d thought she was okay with that. She’d been sure their devotion to helping others would fill her life, and how could they continue with that life’s work if they had children to consider?

Except over time, she’d changed her mind. Not about their work. But about being a mother. Aiden had agreed because he loved her. She’d convinced herself the man she’d seen shed tears over the pain of a tragically deformed infant in Somalia could surely be a tender, caring father.

She’d held onto that hope, until she’d seen the unmistakable tension in him when he’d held Joshua for the first time. She felt that same tension radiating from him now. In that moment, she’d realized things weren’t going to get better. Wishing wasn’t going to make this magically all right. They were so isolated from one another now, despite being twined together in the dark, she had nothing to lose by telling him the truth.

Rolling to her back, she stared at the stars into the near pitch-darkness and said, “I’m pregnant.”

The inside of the car went so still she could hear her own heartbeat mix with the distant sounds outside, rescue vehicles and generators, the occasional shout. But nothing was as loud as the silence hammering between them.

Aiden still didn’t speak, so she went ahead and filled the void. “Birth control fails sometimes, even for mature adults who are medical professionals.”

“How far along are you?” he asked in a voice so controlled, she wondered if words could shatter like ice.

“Only a couple of months. With the excitement and preparations for Joshua, I missed the signs, then chalked it up to stress. Deluding myself, I guess. But I’m sure now.”

A soft
pop
,
pop
,
pop
echoed in the vehicle and she realized his knuckles were cracking as he opened and closed his fists.

“Lisabeth, you do realize the adoption counselor advised giving Joshua time to bond with us before adding other children?”

She rolled onto her side again, resting a hand on his heart that—oh God—was beating so damn fast in spite of his calm voice. “Believe me, Aiden, I know and I want Joshua to have the very best we can give him.”

“There are very real reasons why they advise against having a baby so close to the adoption.” His eyes slid toward her, even if his body wouldn’t. “So many abandoned kids or children from troubled backgrounds have bonding issues.”

She held his gaze and refused to let him look away. “Do you think it would be better for Joshua to spend another six months in an orphanage in a country devastated by an earthquake? That’s if I could even bring myself to give him up, which I
can’t
.” Her fingers dug into his chest as she gripped more than his shirt. “He’s already
mine
, damn it. He is my son every bit as much as this child I’m carrying. To me, there’s no difference.”

“I wish it were that simple for me.”

A chilling possibility iced through her brain. He couldn’t possibly be thinking…

“Are you actually suggesting I have an abortion?”

He stayed conspicuously silent.

Her whole world fractured. Her whole understanding of Aiden, of her marriage, twisted like an image in a funhouse mirror. Distorting unrecognizably and making her so dizzy, the ground trembled beneath her more fiercely than it had when the earthquake came.

“Oh, God”—she reached for the door, fumbling with the lock—“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Reaching past, he whipped open the handle with one hand and scraped back her hair with the other. She vomited onto the cracked parking lot, heaving until her stomach emptied out and her eyes filled with tears.

Finally, once her gut settled and the world steadied, she straightened, her wrist pressed to her mouth. Aiden silently passed her a water bottle. Her hands shaking, she dug through her duffel and pulled out a cheap plastic toothbrush. Their whole world right now was contained in a bag at their feet. Rinsing and spitting out the door, she wished her mess of a life could be as easily cleaned.

She twisted the cap back on the bottle. “I know that you didn’t want to have children because of your father, but I really thought you’d come to peace with that when we decided to adopt.”

Adoption had seemed like such a perfect answer, as they’d seen so many children who needed homes—as her own longing for a child grew so big she couldn’t contain it anymore without it exploding. And now it appeared to have exploded her marriage.

“Aiden, I’m going to have this baby, even if it means losing you.”

She heard him swallow so hard, she worried he might need to open the door fast too.

“Amelia will help us if there are any legal aspects to my already being pregnant.” If Amelia and Joshua were even alive, and just the thought of that choked her with panic. She forced steady breaths. “We—or I—will reach out to every resource possible in order to be a good mother to both of these children.”

“Children,” his voice cracked.

And something cracked inside her at that simple show of emotion from him. She held his face until he looked at her, really looked, and she was sure he could see the sincerity in her eyes. “I understand you have fears—And shhh! Don’t go all macho guy on me because I dared say you’re afraid of something. I understand you’re a geneticist. I realize you have concerns about the kind of… person your father was. But Aiden, just as you’re not your dad, neither is this baby.”

“But who he is… who he was… It still messed me up inside.” He thumped his chest. “I’m not… right. What I said about bonding, about kids with messed-up pasts, I wasn’t talking about Joshua.” His voice went raspy with emotion. “I was talking about
me
.”

Shock radiated all the way to her toes. All this time she’d thought he was afraid to have children for fear they would turn out like his dad, and instead, he was worried he wouldn’t be a good enough father? Incomprehensible to her. “Good God, Aiden, you’re the most noble man on the planet. You’re so damn perfect, it’s tough to be married to you sometimes.”

He laughed, a harsh and strangled sound. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not buying that and neither would the folks on my staff who call me the cold fish.”

“Because they don’t know you the way I do.”

“Do you? Do you really know me?”

Something in his voice warned her he wasn’t being flippant. “What am I missing here, Aiden?”

He toyed with a lock of her hair, twining the curl around his finger. “We’ve never really talked about my father, you and I. Amelia was the one to tell you.”

“Because you wanted it that way.” She would have welcomed the chance to have him open up to her. She would gladly carry part of the burden for him, although now her throat was closing up from fear of what he would say.

“The night before my father was going to accept the plea bargain, I confronted him. Not because I doubted he was guilty, but because I just needed some kind of… hell… I don’t know what I needed. There wasn’t any way to erase having a pedophile for a father.”

She rested her head on his shoulder and let him talk, taking each word in and listening to his heart. The nurse in her registered all the signs of extreme stress while the wife in her hurt right along with him.

“He told me what he’d done, not out of guilt but as if he could explain himself, justify it… God…” He ground his teeth audibly.

She didn’t dare move or speak for fear any interruption would stop him from saying things he’d bottled up for decades, even holding back from her.

“He said he would rather be dead than go to jail,” Aiden continued, his voice returning to the unemotional tones she knew he used to stay in control during his most heartrending cases. “I told him to do it, then. Save his family more pain. Save the state some money. And I gave him a gun.”

She must have gasped, because he finally looked at her. His magnificent blue eyes glimmered in the dark with unshed tears. And in those tears she could see the image of the boy he was then, only a teenager himself, disillusioned and betrayed by his father in such a horrible way.

“I went to the gun cabinet, loaded the shotgun, and placed it in front of him on the coffee table. Without saying another word to my father, I walked away. As soon as I closed the door behind me, he pulled the trigger.”

She’d known his father killed himself. Amelia had told her about the suicide, about how their father had raped at least four young teenage girls. But no one had said a word about this.

Because no one had known. Until now. And she’d better get talking fast, because if she knew her husband at all, he was about five seconds from shutting down, and she feared if he did, there might not be another window into him again.

Lisabeth slid on top of him and grabbed his face in both hands, urgently this time, firmly. “Listen to me, Aiden Bailey. You were a kid then. And even if you’d been older, you are not responsible for your father’s actions. You may be scarred by the things that happened in your past, but you’re a good man, a tender man.”

“I knew what I was doing. I knew what he would do.”

“What he chose to do. And damn him for being a selfish bastard by sharing his suicide wish with his child. What kind of monster does that? If he was crying out for help, there were dozens of other people that made much better sense.”

Aiden’s brow furrowed and she realized she’d made some traction with that last argument, so she pushed ahead. “I don’t even claim to know all the answers or have perfect insights for what you went through with your father. But I do know that you’re too good a man to walk away from your own children when they need you. Your children need you. And we’ll do whatever it takes to build a strong, healthy family together.”

Aiden stayed silent, as she expected. But she couldn’t deny she’d hoped for something different, something more from him this time. The stakes were so much higher now, more than ever for the baby inside her and for their child she prayed was still alive. She wanted to hold him, to comfort him, but past experience told her that he would shut down, pull away, and block her out.

His jaw went tight, tendons flexing so blatantly in his neck she could see them even in the dim moonlight. His eyes squeezed closed, a tear sliding free from each. And then her reserved husband did the last thing she would have expected at such an emotional moment.

He reached for her.

Aiden pulled his wife close, needing to anchor himself, needing her. His arms banded around her. Tightly. Tucking her to him as they lay in the back of a crappy van in the middle of an earthquake disaster zone. She held on just as strong, her face buried in his shirt, which was growing damp from her tears.

Coming to the Bahamas, adopting Joshua, already had him in shaky ground—figuratively and literally. And now this latest revelation about a baby on the way as well had knocked his feet out from under him entirely.

For so long, she’d stood quietly by him even though she knew about his father. He’d asked Amelia to tell Lisabeth, since he’d found it easier to keep himself together by never speaking of it.

But no one knew about the night with his father and the shotgun. Until now. He’d carried that around inside him not out of fear, but because he’d thought it would be selfish of him to unload that pain onto someone else in hopes of making himself feel better.

And as he held his wife close, he wrestled with guilt, pain, relief, then more guilt. What kind of ass answered pregnancy news with horror stories from the past? A bout of tenderness shot through him for his wife and what she’d gone through on her own, worrying about how he would handle the news. And God forgive him for even letting her think for a second he would want her to get rid of the baby.

“I’m sorry for how I acted, for what I said and didn’t say—”

“Aiden? You don’t need to apologize to me.” She stroked away his damned tears.

Shit.
“Yes, I do. I love you and you deserve a helluva lot better from me.”

He scrubbed a wrist over his face and pulled himself together. Or tried to. He didn’t have jack shit emotionally to give Lisabeth right now, especially not some touchy-feely reassuring words. He didn’t trust himself to speak, since God only knew what else would come pouring out of his mouth against his will now the lid was off. So he held her closer, sprinkled kisses across her forehead, over her eyes, until he brushed her mouth.

She gasped softly. “Are you sure this is what you want right—?”

“Shhh…” He silenced her with another kiss. Undoubtedly, she would have other questions she wanted to ask, and he owed her more than he’d given tonight. “I’m talked out for now. Later, okay? Anything you want to talk about, just later.”

“All right,” she whispered, her lips moving against his.

Again he kissed her, so damn thankful she understood. Her fingers slid from his arms around to his shoulders, her mouth parting—the kiss, the connection changing. He shoved aside any hesitation. The best realization of all was that now that she was already pregnant, no need to be careful. That freedom sent him into overdrive. He couldn’t deny the need to claim her after the things he’d said that drove a wedge between them.

One kittenish sigh from her was the only encouragement he needed to roll to his side, pull her more firmly against him. Passion flamed inside him, sparking in the air until he was almost certain he could see the static energy snapping through the van. She draped her slim, long leg over his, locking him to her. He hadn’t been planning on making love when he’d scrounged up this place for them to sleep, away from the crowded tents full of cots. He’d been more concerned with finding a way to ease the dark circles under Lisabeth’s exhausted eyes.

But now that she moved against him, tugging at his shirt, he couldn’t think of anything except having her. Here. Now. Watching her come again and again, giving them both at least a temporary escape.

The moonlight outside was muted by the tinted windows, but let in enough light for him to see the shadowy writhing of his wife’s beautiful body. The spiral curl she could never quite keep out of her eyes. The long elegant neck that made her look like a foreign princess.

And thanks to those darkened windows, the place was private. The doors were locked, and the night was cool enough to be comfortable. The scent of bleach from the fabric bedrolls eased the thick air that made standing outside damn near unbearable.

His hand nowhere near surgeon steady, he tunneled inside her shirt, loose surgical scrubs, until he found the soft curve of her breast. And then touching her wasn’t enough anymore. He had to see her. Taste her.

He swept off her top and palmed her breasts with a satisfied growl—cut off as she hooked her finger along the waistband of his pants, the tip of her finger brushing the head of his throbbing hard-on. But he wasn’t off balance long. He teased her nipples with his thumb and forefinger. The tightening, her moans, the restless thrash of her head against the bedroll, urged him on as he lowered his face to take the pebbly crest into his mouth.

He knew every inch of her well, but now noticed the changes pregnancy had already begun to bring. The increased fullness—and sensitivity—of her breasts.

Her body moved against him with a sleek familiarity that never failed to turn him inside out. And she was even more stunning now than when he’d met her. A lithe exotic beauty, she’d glided into his life during fall semester, senior year in college. He couldn’t even remember which class, because the second he’d seen her, his mind had short-circuited until he was oblivious to anything else around him.

He did remember exactly what she’d worn—gray workout tights and a pink tank top. She’d told him later how she’d overslept that day and come straight to class in the clothes she’d worn pulling an all-nighter study session. But God, the way she’d carried off the most casual clothes with a regal grace… He’d wanted that serenity in his life, wrapped all around him, like now.

And she seemed every bit as eager for this stolen night together, a chance to block out the world and forget everything except each other. He slid down her scrubs, and as she kicked them free of her ankles, he yanked aside his own pants. He lived to lose himself inside her. And there was no way in hell he would risk losing her.

His hands shook all over again. To think how close he’d come to doing just that, to screwing up the life they’d built together. He stroked reverently along her side, over her hip, savoring the warm caramel sheen of her skin.

A purr rising from the back of her throat, she clasped him, stroked the length of him with her thumb gliding over the tip, spreading the dampness for a slicker glide again and again. Arching her hips closer, the soft curls between her legs teased along his erection, invited him to take this further.

Still lying side by side, he pressed inside her, slowly, careful of her pregnancy. And as much as she said she didn’t need to be treated like spun glass, he was careful. Treated her with reverence.

She was perfection to him.

The satin heat of her flesh clamped around him as he thrust, drawing him in over and over, closer to her, both physically and in other ways. Something had shifted between them tonight. She’d reached inside of him with her words and her love, touching parts of him that had been walled off for years.

Her leg draped over him, she dug her heel into his ass, locking them tighter together as their hips rocked, as he angled in just the way he knew made her breath hitch. She bit her bottom lip, her head thrown back, enticing him to nip, lick, kiss his way up to her ear. He cupped the back of her head, his fingers combing into her hair as he guided her toward him.

He burned to see her eyes as he moved inside her, wanted her to see how crazy with desire she made him. No walls tonight. No holding back.

Her lashes fluttered open, her brown eyes turning that sensual shade of golden just for him. He didn’t know why she’d stayed with him, why she still held strong to him, but she did. The way she loved him humbled him and lifted him at the same time. In her elegant, serene way, she demanded he give all—in life and in bed.

Like now.

And as he watched her expression, the love he saw there rocketed through him, knocking him over the edge and into a shattering release. And damn it all, he wouldn’t go there alone, refused to finish without her, because nothing in his life meant a thing without Lisabeth.

He pumped through his release, driving her, urging her to—Her blissful cry flowed over his ears, her arms and legs spasming around him as she found her release. He took her mouth and her sighs, whispering her name as she cried out his until the last ripple shuddered through him.

Lisabeth rolled to her back, her arm flung over her face as she panted. Her body shivered in a way he knew meant even the brush of air was almost too much for her skin in the aftermath of a powerful orgasm.

Words… he needed to find some, preferably coherent ones to say how much she meant to him. But his brain wouldn’t engage. His senses were still immersed in the scent of their mingled sweat, the feel of her skin against his, the musical tone of his name from her lips.

He was a man completely in love with a wife he wasn’t sure he deserved. And there weren’t words enough to express that.

He slipped his hands over her stomach, still flat, but where she carried his baby. Their baby. Although just the thought scared the hell out of him, the reality settled a little more firmly in his brain. It would take him time to adjust thoughts and feelings he’d held for decades.

But for Lisabeth, for both of their children, he was determined to make it work. He just prayed he would still have that chance to prove himself with Joshua.

***

Hugh counted at least eleven children inside the beach cottage.

Crouched about fifty yards away, he’d been watching the sleeping children and the four awake adults in the well-lit hut for the past ten minutes. The two-room concrete structure was packed to the gills. Given how close in age they all were and how different they looked, he was certain they weren’t siblings in some bizarre TV reality show. He briefly considered the Good Samaritan angle, but why not have some of them stay in the main house, where it was roomier?

Why hide them? Why not mention it to him or to Amelia? And why pretend not to know what’s going on beyond the gates, when every damn one of those guards carried a two-way radio that appeared to be in full working order?

After what had happened to Joshua at the hospital and what he’d heard in the van, he knew he was looking at some kind of illegal adoption ring. And apparently he’d found the heart of it right here, on Jocelyn’s land.

Once he’d slipped out of the house, he’d done a recon run around the property and spotted security cameras beyond what a simple sugarcane plantation should need. He wasn’t sure if they were operational after the power outages, but just to be sure he avoided them anyway. At least he hoped he’d steered clear of them all.

The three armed guards, however, had been in full working order with firepower to spare. He’d evaded them easily enough alone. Doing so later with Amelia and Joshua? That would be tricky, to say the least.

He’d located two trucks, another van similar to Oliver’s, and an additional Jeep. He’d also located lines of gas cans, all full.

Stealing a ride would be easy. Getting Amelia and Joshua into that ride and out of the fenced-in compound without being spotted would be a bit more complicated. He couldn’t afford to waste another second. Just thinking of how they were alone in that house threatened to steal his focus.

Backing away without a sound, he picked his way through the compound. The darkness was his friend as he moved from building to building, tree to tree, avoiding the cameras—not to mention the three guards Jocelyn had failed to mention.

As much as he burned to race into the main house and haul Amelia and Joshua out, he couldn’t afford to rush. He couldn’t risk detection, leaving them vulnerable here. One small corner of the house was hidden from camera angles by an overgrown tree someone had failed to trim. The one vulnerable vantage point to breach the property. He’d left from that side and now it was his way back in.

Gripping a ridge on the corner post, he hefted himself. Muscles strained as he pulled himself up, up, up higher still until he swung his legs up to…

Got
it.

The toe of his boot hooked on the ledge of the second floor. He inched his finger along until he grabbed a porch rail and vaulted over. He landed in a cat’s crouch. Waiting. Not moving until he was sure no one stirred.

Then step by step, he made his way back to doors leading into his room with Amelia. Through the open curtain he could see her moving around the room, jostling Joshua on her hip. And she appeared to be alone. The nursery-nook curtain was open, as was the bathroom door. No one hiding.

He breathed a sigh of relief and eased the door open.

“Amelia,” he called softly, just to be sure she didn’t freak and shoot him.

“Hugh,” she whispered.

“We have to leave,” he said at the same time as Amelia held up a bottle of juice.

“Have you seen this? Look at the label.” She spoke fast, her hand shaking. “It’s the same kind that was in the van. And the T-shirts—Wait.” She stopped short. “You already know we have to leave?”

“Gather everything you can carry, food, baby supplies, anything,” he said, glad she and the kid were already dressed. “There’s a second house on this property, full of babies in cribs, and given what happened with Oliver—It’s time to go. Now.”

She yanked a pillowcase off and began stuffing it full of crackers, bottled juice, diapers, anything she could lay her hands on. “And how are we going to get out of here?”

Hugh tucked the spare knife into his gun belt and took Joshua from her arms. “We’re going to steal a Jeep and ram the gate.”