Lone Rider (34 page)

             
Tess obeyed, unclasping her fist, praying that if she cooperated, the man would leave her unharmed. Then she heard Grey’s voice.

             
“Step away from my
wife
before I kill you.”  Grey had his gun drawn and leveled at the man.

             
Releasing her, the mugger quickly threw his hands in the air. “Hey, man! I didn’t hurt her!”

             
Tess stepped away as Grey roughly shoved the man against the wall. He kicked t
he man’s feet apart in a spread-
eagle stance and patted him down, withdrawing a knife from the man’s pocket.

             
“I suggest you get as far from here as possible,” Grey said pushing the man away. “The cops are on their way.”

             
Moving slowly at first, as if not believing his good fortune at being set free, the man backed up. Then he took off running.

             
It infuriated Grey to release the mugger, knowing it would only be a short while before the man picked his next victim. He turned on her, fury flashing in his eyes. “I told you--”

             
“I’m sick,” she wailed, waving him back.

             
Cursing, Grey forced the lock using the knife he’d taken from her assailant. She was adamant that he remain outside. Once inside, she locked the door and threw up.

             
After a few minutes, the queasiness passed
,
but her head hurt worse than ever.

             
No sooner had she turned on water to wash her face than the door opened and Grey stepped in. So much for a locked door when this man was around.

             
Grey looked at her closely. “Did he hurt you?”

             
“No. But he scared me.”

             
She was still shaking when
Grey drew her into his arms.
“You’re freezing.”  He started to peel his coat off but remembered his gun. “Come on. Let’s get you back in the car.”

             
It took a tremendous amount of self-control not to lecture her while they drove a little f
a
rther up the
road
to a well-lit motel. All he wanted to do was get her inside a room and let her get comfortable.

             
Then he’d lay into her. He had nearly died when he returned to the car and found her gone.

             
Once they were in a room, though, his resolve fled. He hadn’t counted on her looki
ng so fragile. And even bundled-
up in his jacket she still trembled. She sat on the bed, hugging herself while he turned up the room’s thermostat.

             
“There’s only one bed,” she pointed out.

             
“You can have it. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

             
Moving past her, he went into the bathroom and started filling the tub. He came back out and knelt in front of her, unfastening her shoes.

             
“I’ll have you warm in a minute.”  He moved back to the bathroom, turning off the taps. Steam rose from the water but he made sure it wasn’t too hot.

             
She still had her arms wrapped around herself when he came back out. She offered no resistance when he tugged off the jacket. Pulling her to her feet, he began unfastening her blouse. That roused her.

             
“What are you doing?”  She shoved his hands away.

             
“Sticking you in a warm tub.”  He pushed the edges of her blouse wide, hitching it off her shoulders.

             
She crossed her arms over her bra, hiding little. Grey felt himself harden at the sight of her.

             
“I can undress myself.”  She wasn’t certain she wanted him to see her like this.

             
“Fine. I’ll get the stuff from the car.”

             
He welcomed the icy blast of air that hit him when he stepped out of their room, but it did little to relieve his suffering.

Not for the first time he wished things were different between them. What if they were really married and he could simply walk back inside and freely view his wife’s ample charms? Play with them
,
for God’s sake!

             
The feelings he had for her hadn’t diminished over their months apart. If anything
,
they had grown sharper. But what about Tess’ feelings? Did she care for him on a level beyond  personal preservation?

             
He carried an armload of packages back to the room and dumped them on the bed. Striding to the bathroom door, he called her name. He heard water splash as if she’d sat up quickly.

             
“Yes?” she called through the door.

             
“Just checking. I’m going back down to get the rest of the stuff.”

             
Tess relaxed, sinking back into the water as she heard his footsteps move away. The water felt heavenly, the warmth gradually seeping in to replace the bone-numbing cold. Thankfully, the nausea had left
,
and her aches and pains were slowly disappearing.

             
She yawned, slipping lower in the tub, submerging her shoulders. She should probably get out and help Grey. Another yawn bubbled up and she shut her eyes, giving in to the steamy warmth. Just a few more minutes, she decided, then she’d climb out.

             
After his final trip to the car, Grey turned on the news then began dumping the shopping bags out on the bed, methodically sorting and ripping off tags as he watched television.

His shirts. Her shirts. His underwear. Hers. And definitely more interesting than his.

             
He unwrapped the myriad of cosmetic products, opening the bottles and sniffing. No wonder men fell for women. They smelled so damn good. He twisted the cap off a pink bottle of lotion. The scent of roses filled the air. He felt his groin swell and quickly recapped the bottle. Why torment himself?

The last bag held a small white box.
Their wedding rings
. He cupped the rings in his palm. Side by side their differences were huge. Male. Female. His band was thicker and over an inch in diameter. Hers was tiny by comparison. Delicate. And not nearly good enough for her.

He closed his fist, pressed the metal against his skin, remembering how he’d found himself looking at diamonds in
California
. He’d found a monster solitaire that he liked. Had wanted something that said she’s taken. A wedding band
,
though...

In the end he’d chickened out. “Scared?” the salesman had asked. Damn straight. Now more than ever. He’d told himself that when the time came, he
’d
go with the ring of his heart. His grandmother’s engagement ring. A marquis
-
cut diamond surrounded by sapphires the exact deep blue of Tess’ eyes.

He shook his head. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about. Keeping her safe was all that mattered. There were two lives at stake in that one precious body.

He looked at the cheap, gold-filled bands, slid his on his left hand. Trying not to think of the significance, he set hers on the dresser.

             
The news report of this morning’s bombing came on. Turning up the volume, Grey followed the brief story intently. They gave no new information on the morning’s events, and most of what they recounted was inaccurate. Except the news of Tess’ pregnancy, of course. Though no one would officially confirm it, the reporter quoted sources as saying FBI Special Agent Grey Thomas was the father.

He frowned, turning the set off. Barry had warned him earlier that this was happening. Barry also told him there was no new information on Snake and Bogen. Reports on sightings were trickling in
,
but unfortunately none had panned out.

             
In minutes Grey had all the clothes stowed in drawers. He gathered up the trash, amazed at the small mountain of boxes and wrapping he’d discarded. Then he slipped from the room one more time to fill the ice bucket and retrieve a few soft drinks from the vending machine.

             
When he returned, he locked the door and kicked off his shoes. Padding barefoot to the bathroom door, he listened. No sound came from within. He checked his watch, frowning. She had been in there nearly thirty minutes.

             
He called her name softly, not wanting to startle her like he had the last time. When she didn’t respond he cracked the door and peeked in. As he suspected, she was sound asleep.

             
He fought with his conscience for all of five seconds. Yeah, he could call her name louder until she woke up. Or he could beat noisily on the door. And probably give her a heart attack in the process.

             
Or he could slip in and wake her gently.

             
Difficult choice.

             
Grabbing two towels, he eased the door open wide and knelt beside the tub. His eyes traveled the length of her, the sight robbing his lungs of oxygen. She was lovelier than he’d remembered.

             
And she was pregnant with his child
.

             
Aside from being larger, her breasts had taken on a dusky hue, her nipples darker, swollen. Tender? he wondered.

             
Her waist was as narrow as ever, but the base of her abdomen rose sharply now as she slept, her body relaxed. It was apparent a babe slumbered there.
His.

             
A fierce pride rose up in him
,
mingling with equally fierce possessiveness. He’d been the first man to know intimately this lush body, and if he had anything to do with it
,
he’d be the last.

             
His eyes were drawn once more to the slight mound below her stomach, to the tawny curls nested just below. He ached to touch, caress. Kiss. But he wouldn’t take advantage while she slept.

Still
,
he wondered what she’d look like further along, heavy with child. He imagined a dark head, much like his own, suckling lustily upon her breast. He had to convince her to breast-feed.

             
Hell, first he had to convince her to let
him
stay around, be part of her life when there wasn’t a death threat hanging over them.

             
Scowling, he trailed a finger in the water. Damn it! The water had lost all warmth. He touched her shoulder.

             
“Tess. You’ve got to get out, sweetheart. The water’s too cold.”

             
She didn’t budge.

             
Leaning forward, he grasped her under the knees and behind the shoulders, lifting her out of the tub.

             
Water sluiced down her body, soaking him. She stirred, wriggling in his arms. “Grey, what--”

             
“Easy. I’ve got you.”  He snatched up a towel, holding her in one arm as he wrapped the towel about her torso. “You fell asleep in the tub.”

             
Snagging extra towels, he moved to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he shifted her onto his lap, catching the long strands of wet hair and wrapping them in a towel.

             
“Now you’re wet, too.”  Tess felt her teeth chatter. Her head pounded
,
and she felt sore all over.

             
Grey looked at her closely, concern darkening his eyes. “You don’t feel well, do you?”

             
She shook her head. “I’m so cold.”

             
Rubbing her briskly with the towel, Grey quickly dried her. Setting her on the bed
,
he moved to a drawer and retrieved one of her nightshirts. Ignoring her feeble protests, he stripped away the damp towel and slid the soft cotton over her head. Then he picked her up, pulled back the covers
,
and tucked her in the bed.

             
Grabbing the gauze he’d bought earlier, he rebandaged her hands.

             
“Better?” he asked.

             
“No.”  The sheets felt like ice on her skin. “Can you turn the heat up? Please.”

             
Instead Grey unbuttoned his damp shirt and stripped it off, not trusting himself enough to remove his pants. He looked at her. “It’s not what you think.” He grabbed the cover she had knotted in her fists. “Move over and I’ll share my body heat.”