The silence held the kind of deceptive stillness found at the center of a hurricane. Stunned, Rucker let his eyes flicker down her body.
"Look," she instructed, touching herself lightly. "My breasts weren't this big before, were they? The nipples weren't this dark." She walked to the floor lamp and stood within its circle of light. "See the blue veins just under the skin? They weren't like this before. Come closer and look."
He closed the distance between them and stood within arm's reach, his eyes dark with concentration and his expression still showing astonishment.
Dinah lifted one breast and drew a fingertip along the underside. "My breasts were even larger when I was pregnant. Now that they've shrunk a little, I have some stretch marks. See?"
"No. You look like you could model for
Playboy
tomorrow." He added sardonically, "The 'Girls of the USSR' pictorial."
"Look closer."
His head cocked to one side, he bent forward until his face was only inches from her nipple. "Okay. I see a stretch mark."
"Good."
"And on my stomach, too." She touched a spot just above her dark, curly hair. "There. And there. You can see that my stomach isn't as tight as it used to be."
"That's debatable."
She sighed with dismay. "Touch it."
He reached out and probed just beneath her navel. At his touch the brusque, objective mood changed; she inhaled softly and shut her eyes. "Stop. That's enough."
Rucker drew back quickly, and when she looked up at him she saw by his eyes that the contact had affected him, too. "It's softer," he said in a gruff tone. "But not too soft."
Dinah sat down in the recliner nearby. She began to stroke one of her breasts lightly, running her fingers from the top to the nipple, where she tugged a little. "If this doesn't prove what I've told you, then I'll give up."
His eyes never left her hand's languid journey. He sank to his heels beside the chair. After a minute, several large drops of bluish-white liquid appeared at the end of her nipple.
Dinah's hand shook as she slipped a forefinger under the drops and scooped them onto the tip. Her eyes met Rucker's. "Milk." she whispered. She held out her hand.
He studied the fluid for several seconds. She moved her hand closer. "Taste it."
His expression was somber. He frowned at her hand and she knew that his cynicism was warring with this evidence. Suddenly he leaned forward and took her fingertip between his lips.
His mustache brushed her finger as he drew the milk away with a soft sucking motion. He sat back, studying her while he touched his tongue to his lips.
His gaze went to her nipple. "Once you get it started, does it keep goin' without any help?"
Dinah glanced down and saw that new milk had appeared on the nipple. "Oh. It sort of ... leaks. It won't continue unless a baby starts to nurse."
Rucker put one blunt, calloused forefinger on her nipple and caught the new milk. He lifted the finger to his mouth and licked it, his expression so intense that she almost smiled.
"Grade A," he said.
"Naturally pasteurized. Full of vitamins. Already sterilized. Just the right temperature. Stores perfectly in two handy containers. Katie loves it."
At the sound of that name his expression became bleak. He bent his head and ran a hand through his hair. They both sat in silent misery. When he looked up at her, his eyes were stern.
"You had a baby. All right. You were probably sleepin' with Valdivia before you left me, so—"
"I wasn't!"
"There's no reason for me to take your word. Why should I believe that it's my baby or that it's safety depends on you gettin' back to South America?"
Dinah gave him a worried, wistful look. "You'll have to trust me. Isn't it worth the risk?"
After a moment of electric waiting, he said, "I can't trust you."
Dinah groaned and covered her breasts, feeling vulnerable and humiliated. She ducked her head and fiercely squeezed her eyes shut. Tears wouldn't do any good. "Just let me get my coat and leave. Tell Jeopard I climbed out a window in the middle of the night. Give me that much of a chance. Please."
"Jeopard would know what really happened."
"
Please
." She abruptly slid to the floor in front of him. Dinah bowed her head against his knee and repeated raggedly, "Please."
Rucker caught a strangled sound in his throat and stood up. "Don't beg. You never begged anybody for anything in your life. You're the proudest person I know."
She crept closer and wrapped both arms around his legs. "I never had to fight for our baby's life before. I'll do anything you want."
He couldn't stand it. He bent quickly, grasped her under both arms, and lifted her up. A shudder wracked his body as he took her in a tight embrace. She shook just as violently and burrowed her face into the warm hollow of his neck.
"You love the baby." he murmured hoarsely. "I can believe that."
She could feel the muscles working in his throat as he tried to control his emotions. "Hate me if you have to," she murmured brokenly. "Don't trust me. Hurt me. Use me. I'll understand and I'll still love you." Her voice became hoarse with determination. "But help me do what I have to do to protect our daughter."
"I'm a fool," he finally managed to say. "A damned fool. Because I can't stop wantin' to trust you."
"Then do it. Take the chance."
He stepped away from her, his eyes wary. His hand reached absently for the front of his shirt. Rucker touched the damp spot her milky nipple had left. He shut his eyes as if he were being torn apart inside. Twisting around, he bent and picked up her jogging top, then tossed it to her unceremoniously.
"I can't ignore the possibility that you're tellin' the truth about the baby . . . about Katie ... at least. That's the naive country boy in me."
Dinah closed her eyes and said a small prayer of thanks. She looked at Rucker with devotion. "That's the man I love," she corrected. "The man who knows deep inside himself that he
can
trust me, and that no other person on the face of the earth will ever love him more than I do."
"No." He said the word viciously. "That man died when his wife deserted him to indulge her mysterious ideals about world politics. And the man who took his place is capable of bein' real cruel if she hurts him again. So just keep your distance."
***
She would only tell him that she had to go north. She'd have a few hours head start before Jeopard arrived at the house intending to arrest her.
Dinah went into the bedroom and opened several dresser drawers. Her throat ached with love as she noted that Rucker had kept all her things exactly as she'd left them. He stopped in the doorway behind her as she drew out underwear, pullover sweaters, jeans, and a blue woolen muffler with matching gloves.
"How long will your little tea party take?" he asked grimly, as he went to a closet and got two small canvas luggage bags. "Or is that information off limits, too?"
"I won't be in the States very long."
"That's about as definite an answer as I'm gonna get, right?"
She turned and looked at him sorrowfully. "Yes. The less you know, the less you'll have to conceal when Jeopard starts grilling you about my 'escape.' "
Rucker came over to the dresser and opened a drawer on his side. Dinah watched in puzzlement as he removed several pairs of athletic socks from an enormous collection of the same.
"Jeopard won't be a problem," he told her without looking up. "Because I'll be with you."
He blithely opened another drawer and removed T-shirts. Dinah dropped her armload of clothes and grabbed his wrist. "No," she said grimly.
"That's the deal. Take it or leave it."
"Rucker, you can't. It would make you an accomplice."
"I don't care. You don't have to tell me anything. I won't ask questions. But I'm not lettin' you out of my sight again."
Dinah made a low sound of frustration. "I was afraid of this! Life isn't a John Wayne movie, and you can't ride roughshod over the villains! These Indians don't fight fair!"
"Injuns never fight fair," he said quaintly. "That's why the Duke had to be so tough."
"I won't do it! I won't let you come with me!"
He straightened slowly, all levity gone. He was six inches taller than she, many pounds heavier, and much more inclined to use physical force if need be. "You don't have any choice."
She studied the determination in his eyes and muttered, "Oh, it is excellent to have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant."
One corner of his mouth curved up in jaunty defiance. "I reckon that quote's not from a John Wayne movie."
"Shakespeare."
"Shakespeare never had a wife who could worry the horns off a brass billy goat." He arched a brow at her. "I tied you up once a few years ago when you didn't have sense enough to let me help you. Remember?"
Her face burned. "And I suppose that you're prepared to use that Neanderthal tactic again?"
"In the flash of a gnat's eyelash."
Defeat settled on her visibly. Frowning, she knelt down and gathered the clothes she'd dropped. Rucker gazed at her bent head and struggled not to lay a reassuring hand on the silky brunette hair that fanned across her shoulders.
"We can't take your truck," she said abruptly. Her expression anxious, she went to the bed and began stuffing things in one of the bags. "The first thing Jeopard will do is give the state patrol your tag number." She paused, looking even more troubled. "So Millie's brother has been assigned to the Valdivia case. Jeopard must be special."
"His agents call him the Iceman, untouched by human emotion."
"He and Valdivia are a perfect match, then."
"Wrong. Jeopard's got honor. He works for the guys in the white hats."
"Meaning that Valdivia and I don't, right?" An awkward silence stretched between them. She felt Rucker watching her, and she sensed the anger and disappointment that lay beneath his control.
"Right."
"Then you shouldn't get involved with us."
"I got involved the day you promised to spend the rest of your life with me. It's too late to back out now."
Dinah sighed raggedly and changed the subject. "We can't take your truck," she repeated.
"I've already got that worked out."
"How?"
"My secret." He tossed his clothes on the bed. "Pack my bag."
She curtsied low. "Yes, your highness."
He almost smiled as he left the room.
Dinah had just finished dressing in running shoes, jeans, and a bulky white sweater when he came back. She turned around and stared at the shotgun he held in the crook of one arm. Startled, she tried to joke.
"I hate to tell you this, Rucker, but we spies don't use James Bond tactics very often. The gun's not necessary."
"Indulge me. It's a symbol of my manhood."
"Get a Phil Donahue T-shirt instead."
He went into the master bedroom and opened the linen closet door. Her breath stalled as she watched him reach far inside and feel for something. His back straightened with surprise as he drew his hand out.
He held a box of shotgun shells and her diaphanous black robe.
Understanding and disgust slowly crept into his expression as he lifted the enticing garment for perusal. He turned slowly toward her, the robe looking fragile in his big hand.
"White used to be your color," he said succinctly.
"Don't draw analogies between my lingerie and my morals."
"Another gift from the banana king?"
Dinah lifted her chin proudly. "Since you're going to think the worst no matter what, I see no point in discussing it."
"Get that damned fur coat," he ordered in a rough tone. Dinah knelt beside the bed and reached underneath. She pulled the sable out and stood up.
"What are you going to do? Shoot it?"
"Bring it and come with me."
She followed him through the house to the kitchen, then out a door to the back porch. Damp, cold wind curled through the screens and combined with anxiety to make her shiver. From their charcoal grill Rucker got a can of lighter fluid and a pack of matches. He went to the outer door and swept a hand toward the dark, rain-drenched backyard.
She walked outside and waited. He angled ahead of her and they stopped on the matted lawn a few dozen feet from the house. He threw the robe down and pointed at the coat.
"I wanted to buy you something like that once, but you gave me a speech about the cruelty of trappin' animals for their fur."
Dinah smiled sadly. "And you said I made you feel so guilty that you couldn't look Jethro in the eye for a week. You told him not to worry—that possum skins were only good for decorating highways." She paused, and her smile faded. Dinah dropped the luxurious coat atop the robe. "This was a gift I couldn't refuse."
"Well, it's about to be a fried gift."
He doused both garments with lighter fluid, then lit several matches and threw them onto the pile. Blue-gold flames leapt into the air, and Dinah's nose crinkled at the smell of burning fur.
Her chest swelled with pride. This angry ceremony of Rucker's gave her a sense of victory. Valdlvia had forced her to wear these things; now Rucker was telling Valdivia to go to hell.
"Stop cryin' over it," he commanded. "I'm sure you know how to get another one from good old Diego."
She glanced at him in shock and saw that he'd been watching her face in the firelight. Dinah smoothed away the tear on her cheek. "Rucker, you don't know when to be quiet." She marched back inside.
***
Rucker proved that he did know when to be quiet. They left the house without speaking another word to each other, and the silence continued as they drove along a winding two-lane road. Rucker didn't bother to warn her when he suddenly swung the Land Rover off the blacktop. Dinah bounced hard and grasped the dashboard for support. They seemed to be heading into the middle of the woods. A second later the headlights illuminated a narrow dirt road overhung with skeletal oak trees.
"Where are we going?" she asked drolly. "And why didn't I bring my bear repellent?"