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“Why are you so afraid to be called a friend?” she asked. “Is it because of who I am? A gangster’s ex-wife? Is it because, through me, Vince has hurt other people?”
“What he does isn’t your fault,” Jake assured her.
She stood beside him, her head down, saying nothing. Just as he was ready to ease himself away from her, she spoke. “Will you promise me something, Jake?”
“What?” he asked, his voice harsh as he feared what she might demand of him.
“If—if something happens to me, would you make sure Vince doesn’t get Jamie? Would you ask your mother to find him a good home?”
“Camille— Yeah, I promise.” He wanted to deny the possibility of her being hurt…killed. But he was too honest for that.
“Thank you,” she murmured, and turned to leave the room.
He breathed a sigh of relief that she’d taken herself out of his reach. Out of temptation’s way. It was just hormones, he reminded himself.
She reached the door and paused. “By the way, should I send the FBI a thank-you note for your delivery room duties? I really am grateful.”
He ground his teeth, trying to think of an answer, but she didn’t wait. The door closed quietly behind her.
CAMILLE PULLED the sheet over herself in the darkness and tried to fall asleep. After all, with Jamie demanding to be fed every four hours, she needed the rest.
But her thoughts remained fixed on the big man she’d left standing beside her son’s little bed. Jake Maitland. It wasn’t just that he was handsome, with a trim, muscular body, dark hair and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Bluebonnet eyes, she’d decided, after seeing the Texas state flower bloom this spring.
No, it wasn’t his looks. After all, Vince was handsome, too. In a twisted sort of way.
And it shouldn’t be the care Jake had given her, either, since, as he’d told her so often, it was his job.
When the FBI had offered her protection, she’d asked for Jake. She’d come to trust him—not an easy thing after she’d found out how badly she’d misjudged Vince.
Jake had tried to talk her out of choosing him. But she’d just discovered she was pregnant, and for the sake of her child, she wanted the best. And the best was Jake.
In so many ways.
When he’d identified himself to her as FBI, he’d suddenly become standoffish. The friendliness he’d feigned to gain her trust had disappeared. He’d let her see his skepticism when she told him she hadn’t known about her husband’s illegal activities.
Fair enough. She didn’t blame him. She had trouble believing she’d been so gullible herself. But she’d been vulnerable, willing to reach out for warmth. Her parents had just died in an automobile accident, leaving her alone in the world. Most of her friends were married, and many had moved away from Washington, D.C., her home. Her job as librarian didn’t lend itself to making new friends. The other employees were older, set in their ways.
Vince had come along when she longed for human contact. He’d teased her, laughed with her, encouraged her to rely on him. A month later, she married him, believing she’d found a new family.
Instead, she’d found a nightmare.
Vince wasn’t a considerate lover, but she wasn’t very experienced. She thought things would improve with time. But once the challenge of capturing her was gone, Vince changed. He didn’t bother with charm any longer. Instead he issued orders. The first time she failed to obey, daring to question him, he’d slapped her.
Stunned, Camille had withdrawn. He’d turned on the charm again, teasing her into believing he’d had a bad day. It wouldn’t happen again. But he pointed out that he wouldn’t have had to slap her at all if she’d trusted him, as a wife should, and done as he’d told her.
Several other events alerted her to something rotten in the woodpile. She began to put offhand comments together. The second time he struck her, she waited until the next day, when he’d left the house. Then she gathered her belongings and as much cash as she could find, got in her car and drove away.
She should’ve known he wouldn’t let her go so easily.
He’d tried sweet-talking her back to his house.
No sale.
He’d tried sex. Or, in Camille’s mind, rape. She threatened to kill him if he touched her again. And she bought a gun.
He’d tried having a couple of his “employees” kidnap her, but she’d escaped and contacted the police. It was about that time that Jake came into her life.
She hadn’t wanted to trust him. She hadn’t wanted to trust anyone. But she needed help. After offering the information she had, she’d asked for protection. At first, the FBI hadn’t thought her situation warranted any official protection.
Then, when she told them she was pregnant, they’d warned her not to tell her ex-husband. But Vince found out, anyway. She wasn’t sure how. And he called her. He wanted the child, and he was willing to pay her a lot of money to come back to him.
She’d hung up on him.
For the next month, she was practically under siege. When the FBI finally offered her protection, after she’d thwarted yet another kidnapping attempt, she knew the man she wanted. Jake had been firm, patient and strong. He hadn’t flirted with her, as one agent had. He hadn’t been too familiar, either. A true professional, he’d only done his job.
And that’s what he said he’d done the night Jamie was born.
Holding her hand, stroking her cheek, encouraging her when the pain grew intense. He’d even called her sweetheart, but she was sure it had been unintentional.
He’d done more than his duty. His duty could have been performed outside the delivery room, in the hallway. He knew Camille would have only the best of care at the hospital his family ran. His sister Abby was Camille’s obstetrician, and Jake had total trust in her. But he had felt the need to do more for Camille. He’d been her friend, her strength, her rock.
And opened a Pandora’s box of hope.
Because in Jake she’d found the man she wished she’d married. The man she wished was Jamie’s father. The man who wanted nothing to do with her on a personal level.
She bit back a sob and tried to turn her thoughts to other matters. But since her world had shrunk to this remote cabin and Jake Maitland, controlling her interest in him had become impossible.
A reluctant smile was the high point of her day. A spoken word, not a sentence—Jake seldom used sentences—could stir her senses for hours.
His touch almost blew her away.
Fortunately, or unfortunately some days, he’d kept his distance. Though there were only the two of them in this small cabin on his friend’s ranch, he’d managed to make her feel she was alone.
Until she’d gone into labor.
He’d rushed into the labor room with her, and from that point on had been the center of her universe. He’d smiled, gently teased, given her the words she’d needed…and touched her.
“JAKE? It’s your mother,” Megan Maitland announced when she called the next morning.
With a grin, Jake said, “I know, Mom.”
She ignored his teasing. “We’re going to have a big family dinner tomorrow night. I know it’s only a few weeks before Connor and Janelle’s wedding, but I want to see all my family together again.”
Jake frowned. Connor O’Hara, a Maitland cousin whose parents had been estranged from the family for years, had unexpectedly shown up last fall, much to Megan’s delight. Jake didn’t share his mother’s enthusiasm. Something about his new cousin made him tense, and his professional instincts told him that both Connor and his fiancée, Janelle, were not quite what they seemed to be. They claimed to be the parents of the baby boy who had been abandoned at Maitland Maternity Clinic, but Jake had his doubts about that, too.
“Well, Mom, I’m trying to keep Camille out of the limelight. And I don’t want to leave her alone.”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t ask that of you, but we’ll have tight security at the house. Vincent Eckart would never be able to get inside. And you can bring that darling baby to the nursery. He’ll be safe.”
Jake remained silent. Megan’s voice deepened when she said, “Jake, please. I’ve missed you all these years. I want you here, a part of our family. Don’t disappoint me.”
Jake considered his mother’s words. He’d left Austin when he’d finished school and gone to the FBI, but he’d missed his mother. When he’d had to hide Camille six months ago, he’d told himself he was coming to Austin because it was the safest place. But after arriving and establishing contact with his family, he knew he’d come back because he needed to see his mother again.
He didn’t want to disappoint her. And she was right about Camille being safe. It might even do the lady some good to see other people. Maybe it would even diffuse the sexual tension that was driving him crazy.
“Okay, if you’ll do me a favor.” Time to kill two birds with one stone.
“Of course, darling, anything,” Megan replied promptly.
“Careful, Mom, you don’t know what I’ll ask.”
“I’m not worried, son,” she replied, her words full of love and trust…two things he wasn’t sure he deserved.
“How about inviting Harrison Smith to your family dinner.”
“Why?” she asked after a brief hesitation.
“He’s asking a lot of questions about our family and hanging around the diner. He might be a private eye. I know he claims to be checking out the clinic for his daughter, but that doesn’t take three months. I can’t get away from here to investigate him and I want to find out whose payroll he’s on.”
“It would be rude to interrogate a guest.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about a spotlight and a straight-backed chair, Mom. I’ll be subtle.”
“All right, dear, but I’m sure he’ll wonder why he’s been invited.”
“You’ll come up with something convincing, Mom.”
“Okay, be here at seven tomorrow. Oh, and wear a suit.”
After his mother hung up, Jake muttered, “Damn. A suit.” He’d hardly had to wear a suit in the past six months with Camille. He’d gotten quite used to jeans.
“A suit?” Camille asked from the doorway, a small tremor in her voice. “Are we moving? Going public?”
“Nope. My mother is the one demanding the suit. She’s even more persuasive than the FBI.”
“Oh.”
He watched her hazel eyes darken with concern. “What is it?”
“I suppose Max will keep an eye on us here?”
Max Jamison was a local private investigator who used to work on the Austin police force with Jake’s childhood friend, Michael Lord. When Jake had asked Michael who he could trust to help him out with Camille, Michael had suggested Max. Both Max and Michael, along with Michael’s brother, Garrett, had been working with Jake ever since.
“Nope. Max’ll be at the house. And so will you.”
Nothing Camille had gone through since Jake first met her had come even close to producing the slack-jawed, stunned expression that was on her face now.
“I’ll be where?” she managed to ask.
“You’ll be at my mother’s. We’re having a family dinner.”
“I can’t do that. I’m not family.” She succeeded in wiping all emotion from her face, giving him a blank stare.
Suddenly, several things fell into place for Jake. Camille had never attempted to contact anyone since she’d been in hiding, and she had told Jake that if anything happened to her, she wanted her baby adopted.
“You don’t have any family, do you?” he said. He’d never asked her personal questions. It was his way of keeping his distance. He’d read her file, of course, so he knew her parents were dead, but he’d figured she must have relatives somewhere. Now he realized how very alone she must be.
She blinked several times but maintained her stoic expression. “I can’t go to the dinner.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone. We don’t know where Vince is, but we know he suspects you’re in the area. Do you want to take that chance?” Dirty pool, he knew, threatening her with her safety, but whatever worked.
“No! But—but surely Max knows someone else who could keep an eye on me.”
“Nope. You’re coming with me. The baby can stay in the nursery at Mom’s. There’ll be extra security. He’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Why don’t you ever call him by his name? Do you dislike it?”
Her change of subject blindsided him. “Uh, I—I haven’t gotten used to it.” The truth was, he’d thought keeping the baby anonymous, nameless, would wipe out the memory of his birth, the warmth that had filled Jake when both he and Camille had held her son for the first time.
Damn it, this was his job. Nothing more.
Camille interrupted his thoughts. “I named him after you and my father, two men I admire.” He opened his mouth to protest, and she held up her hand. “I know, I know, you’re just doing your job.” Then she smiled, a welcome change from the serious expression she usually wore. “Maybe Jamie will learn dedication to his work from you, if nothing else.”
She turned away as if to leave the room.
“Do you believe your parents’ death was accidental?” he asked abruptly.
She stopped but kept her back to him. “Yes. A drunk driver crashed into them, killing them both instantly. The drunk walked away from the crash with bruises. But it happened over a year ago. I hadn’t even met Vince then.”
Which, of course, explained Camille’s vulnerability to Vincent Eckart. She’d met him only a couple of months after her parents’ death. Jake wasn’t sure he believed their death was an unconnected accident. Vince Eckart was amoral and wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate anyone in his way. But saying that to Camille now would serve no purpose.
“No relatives at all?” he asked, moving silently to take her by the shoulders and turn her around. He figured the shocked look on her face was caused by his touching her. He avoided physical contact even more than personal questions.
“No relatives,” she said quietly, keeping her gaze focused on her feet.
In an attempt to lighten the moment, he said, “Maybe I should loan you some of mine. They seem to be increasing at a rapid rate.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Every one of my siblings has married or paired off in the past year. I told you about them all. Then there’s Connor O’Hara, my…cousin. And it’ll only be a matter of time before babies start making an appearance.”
“Be grateful you have family, Jake,” she ordered, her voice firm. “They’re important.”
“We’ll see if you still feel the same way tomorrow night.”
“I will. But I won’t be going to the party.”
“Yes, you will,” he told her, his voice firm. She had no choice.
