She nodded as he cradled her head in his hand. She loved it when he did that. His strong sheltering hand made her feel like nothing could hurt her. A shiver wracked her and she clutched at his shirt.
“Hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” He covered her hand with his and gently unclenched her fingers. “Let’s go sit with Debi.”
As he led her by the hand back to her seat, all eyes in the waiting room were on them. She pulled away and sat down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Jack. “I shouldn’t have made a scene.”
He reached for her hand again and kissed her knuckles, sending a wave of grateful warmth through her.
“You didn’t make a scene. Now, tell me what happened. How’s she doing?”
To Holly’s relief, Debi gave Jack a rundown of Aunt Bode’s collapse, the 911 call, and the twenty-minute drive to Forrest General Hospital in Hattiesburg. “Holly rode in the ambulance and I followed in the car. We called Uncle Virgil, and he came straight from the police station.”
“He had to drive by himself. I should have—”
Debi shushed her. “You did everything right, Holly. Why are you so hard on yourself? She did great, Jack. She had me call while she performed CPR. She probably saved Aunt Bode’s life.” Debi patted Holly’s hand. “Now sit back in that chair and relax. I’m going to get you some water.”
Holly watched her sister pour a cup of water. She shook her head. “She’s been wonderful,” she told
Jack. “It’s like something in her snapped when Aunt Bode collapsed. She just stepped right in and took over. She’s doing the things I should be doing. I should be taking care of
her.
”
“I think Debi takes after her big sister a lot more than her sister realizes.”
There was a note in his voice that Holly hadn’t heard before. A sort of affectionate amusement. She glanced up at him and found his dark gaze on her, two faint frown lines between his brows.
“Did you talk to your boss? Is everything okay?”
He nodded. “Sure. I’m just worried about you.”
“There’s something wrong. I can tell. What did you find out?”
“We’ll talk about it later. You look tired. What do the doctors say about your aunt?”
“She had a massive myocardial infarction. A heart attack. She’s on a ventilator.”
Debi handed Holly the water. “They say she’s doing as well as can be expected,” Debi added. “It’s Uncle Virgil I’m worried about. He’s with her now.”
At that moment, Virgil appeared in the doorway. Debi immediately went to him and led him over to where they were sitting.
Holly and Jack got up. Jack put his hand on Virgil’s arm and Holly hugged him.
“They say she’s stable for now,” Virgil said, his voice unsteady and wavery, like an old man’s. “She looks so small in that big bed.”
Holly’s eyes stung with tears. He and her great-aunt were all the parents she and Debi had known for most of their lives. She’d never thought of Uncle Virgil as old, but he was two years older than Aunt Bode. And right now he looked frail and stooped, and the lines in
his face looked deeper, as if he’d aged twenty years in the past two hours.
“Uncle Virgil, why don’t you let Debi take you home. I’ll stay here tonight.”
Virgil McCray straightened and shook his head. “Nope. I never spent a night away from my Bode and I ain’t about to start now. The nurse told me I could sleep here in one of these recliners. She said they have blankets and pillows.”
“Then, I’ll stay with you,” Holly said, sending Jack a warning glance when he opened his mouth.
But the immediate rejection of her statement came from Debi. Holly frowned at her sister, who had crossed her arms and was looking down her nose at her.
“
I’ll
stay with Uncle Virgil. We’ll sleep side by side there.” She indicated two empty recliners. “Jack, my sister looks terrible. Take her home. She needs a good night’s sleep.”
If Holly hadn’t been so worried about her aunt, she’d have turned pink at Debi’s unspoken warning to Jack to let Holly sleep undisturbed tonight.
Jack put his arm around her, and it was all Holly could do to keep from collapsing against him. “I think you’re right. We’ll be back over here early in the morning. Call if there’s any change.” He squeezed Holly’s shoulders. “Come on, Holly. I have orders to put you to bed.”
“I don’t think—”
He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the mouth. “You don’t get to think. You’re outnumbered.”
H
OLLY LAY IN BED
listening to Jack’s movements through the house. He had the same ritual every night,
and every night she lay awake until he climbed into bed beside her. He didn’t know that, of course. She always pretended to be asleep when he came into the room after making sure all the doors and windows were secure.
Tonight would be different. She doubted she’d be able to sleep at all, even with Jack’s disturbing yet comforting presence beside her. Her mind and heart were still back at the hospital with Uncle Virgil and Debi. She’d hated to leave them alone, but as Jack had said, she was outnumbered. Even Uncle Virgil had joined in, saying he and Debi would be just fine.
She mentally checked off the list of things she needed to take to the hospital tomorrow. She’d stop by her aunt’s house and pack a bag with her robe, slippers and toiletries, and Uncle Virgil’s shaving kit. If she had time, she’d make Uncle Virgil’s favorite cinnamon muffins. He’d be up roaming for breakfast at the crack of dawn, complaining about the hospital food.
The door opened quietly and Jack slipped into the room. He had on a white T-shirt and boxer shorts, and in the faint light that sneaked in around the edge of the blinds, his lanky, long-muscled body was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
She watched him quietly and expectantly, anticipating his movements as he completed his nightly ritual. He walked around the bed to the double windows. She heard him lift the edge of the blinds and knew he was peering outside, as he did every night. Then he looked at her.
Her back was to him, but she didn’t have to see him to know his gaze was on her. What did he think each night when he stood there, watching her in the faint
light? That another day had passed and he still hadn’t identified her stalker? That soon this would all be over and he could go back to his life?
Or did he think what she thought? That he would give anything if the bed they shared wasn’t divided by the insurmountable barrier that existed between them. The barrier of a madman who would not rest until Jack was dead.
He came around the bed and slipped between the covers, barely making a sound. He lay on his back with his arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
“Jack?”
“I wondered if you were asleep. Are you okay?”
His familiar question made her heart flutter. He’d asked her that many times in the few days they’d known each other. It was comforting—one of those little habits that developed between two people who loved each other.
If only.
Her mouth softened into a smile, but it faded as her thoughts returned to her only remaining loved ones. “I can’t stop thinking about Aunt Bode.” Fear swirled in her belly like nausea. “She may be dying.”
He took his arm from behind his head and turned toward her, leaning up on one elbow. “Holly, I know you’re scared. But you’re a health professional. You know this could be a long ordeal while your aunt recovers. You can’t be there every minute. You’ve loved her and cared for her all these years. She knows that. Whatever happens, you will have done all you can. I haven’t known you very long, but I know that much.” The harsh line of his jaw softened.
“What you need right now is rest. That’s what’s going to do your family the most good. Then tomorrow
you can relieve Debi and stay with Virgil.” His voice was gentle.
As usual, he didn’t offer her false assurances or empty promises. Her eyes filled with tears. She’d heard the most important thing he’d said.
Whatever happens.
She knew he was right. She just didn’t want to accept it.
The awful hollow fear that had lurked inside her most of her life started to grow. “Uncle Virgil and Aunt Bode took us in after our parents died. I owe them so much. They’re the only family Debi and I have.”
“Sounds like a nice family.”
The wistful regret in his voice stung her heart. He had come here as her bodyguard to protect her. He had taken her on as his responsibility, and his presence made the unbearable more bearable.
If she could do anything for him, she would lift the regret and sadness he carried like a shield. He was so honorable, so dedicated to protecting others, but he wore his professionalism like armor around his heart. Holly wanted to know why. From his awkward words just now, she was terribly afraid she already knew.
“Jack, who was the person you cared about who was killed by a stalker?”
He stiffened, and tension radiated from him like a fever.
“It was someone in your family, wasn’t it?” The tightly leashed grief in his voice when he’d told her that first night had made that obvious.
“That subject’s not open for discussion.” He punched his pillow and stretched out, as if preparing to relax for sleep.
Holly wasn’t going to accept that. “You brought it up before.”
His jaw muscle twitched. “I was making a point.”
She almost reached out to him, but he seemed so remote, so cut off from her right then. “Do you make that point to all your assignments?” She intended her question to provoke a response, but it came out sounding more bitter than sarcastic.
Their forced marriage and the intimacy that had grown between them was blurring the boundaries between what was for show and what was real. Sometimes when Jack kissed her she couldn’t tell the difference. Her feelings toward him were changing, and she realized that she wanted to be more than just a victim he’d been assigned to protect.
He wiped a hand over his face, then pushed his fingers through his hair. “It was my mother,” he admitted, his voice so hushed that she almost didn’t hear him.
“Your mother? Oh, Jack.” It was what she’d expected, and yet so much worse. Tears stung her eyes. Her heart felt ripped to shreds by razor-sharp claws. She touched his arm, feeling his muscles flinch under her fingers.
“How old were you?”
She leaned over closer and put her hand on the side of his face, forcing him to look at her. He met her gaze reluctantly, his eyes as bottomless as black holes in the dim light.
He took a deep breath and turned his face away, resisting her touch. “I was thirteen. My stepfather wouldn’t leave her alone. We’d moved, even changed our telephone number. But he found us.”
His voice was emotionless, but Holly heard the ter
ror and hurt behind his flat tone. “He was in a rage that night. If he couldn’t have her, nobody could. He broke down the door. Knocked me across the room. Then he strangled her.”
Only thirteen, and he’d witnessed something so horrific that she couldn’t even imagine it. How had he stood it? In her mind’s eye she saw a skinny, black-haired boy lying injured on the floor, watching with fiery eyes as a man he knew, probably a man he’d once thought he could trust, choked the life out of his mother.
As if he’d read her mind, the blackness in his eyes turned to ice. “I testified against him. I put the psycho away—” Despite the bravado in his words, his voice broke.
With his words, Holy realized something very important about Jack O’Hara. He wasn’t cold and aloof because he didn’t get emotionally involved. It was a defense mechanism, part of his shield. What he did was not just a job. It was his own personal crusade to keep what happened to his mother from happening to others.
Jack resisted the impulse to throw himself up and out of bed, away from Holly’s soft golden-brown gaze, from her comforting touch, from her quiet compassion.
Nothing in his life had been as devastating as watching his mother die. Nothing he’d done since had felt better than standing in that courtroom and hearing the verdict against his stepfather. If he were truthful, he’d have to admit that each time he started on an assignment, each time he caught a killer, he was searching for that same satisfaction, that knowledge that he’d stopped another one. But nothing had ever made up
for the despair of knowing that he couldn’t save his mother.
Until Holly had come into his life.
Now he was beginning to understand that there were things more important than a lonely crusade. Suddenly he found himself wondering how it would feel to just let go. Let himself care for Holly.
Helpless terror streaked through him. He couldn’t afford that luxury. If he let himself be swayed by emotion, he courted failure. And if he failed, she would die. He pushed the pillow behind his head and rubbed his eyes. He had to quit thinking of Holly as a woman. He couldn’t afford to forget for a minute why he was here.
“Jack, don’t.”
He frowned and caught her wrist before she touched his face. He couldn’t bear her touch right now. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t throw that icy barrier up. Not this time. I need you.”
The catch in her voice cut a deep furrow through his heart.
“I need to be held, I need to be reassured that I’m not alone, at least for tonight.”
Jack lay frozen in place, his chest tight, his heart throbbing painfully. He released his breath in a long sigh, knowing he shouldn’t be shocked. He’d seen it coming. Ever since last night when she’d risked rejection by touching him so intimately. Her desire and her courage had awed him.
God help him, he wanted her, too. But if he gave in to his desires, he’d be proving to himself that he wasn’t the best man for this job.
“Okay,” she said in a small voice. “I’m sorry. I
shouldn’t put you in this position. I suppose all your assignments fall a little bit in love with you.”
A little bit in love.
The words hit with the force of bullets, tearing through his flesh, embedding themselves in his heart. He’d heard the words before. Many exhausted, frightened victims had turned to him, mistaking relief and gratitude for something more. It was one of the reasons he found it doubly important to set the tone of the relationship from the first moment, and why he never got involved.