Tess noticed most of the bills were hundreds and fifties. “What did you do? Rob a bank?”
Grey handed her several large bills, then crammed a large wad of cash into his pocket. “I learned long ago to be prepared for anything. Before we go in, we need to review a few things. We pay cash for everything. No cre
dit-
card purchases or bank withdrawals. Not even a telephone-card call. Second, we’re married. I’m John Taylor; you’re Jennifer Taylor. We’re on vacation. Home is
Boise
,
Idaho
. The less said the better.”
She watched him check his handgun
,
then return it to his shoulder holster. With his jacket zipped it didn’t show. Knowing it was there made her shiver, reminding her this wasn’t the everyday shopping trip.
He handed her a Cubs baseball cap. “Tuck you hair beneath this. I’ve got an overcoat in back you can wear, too. We don’t want anything to call attention to us.”
When she nodded, he continued. “You need to stay by me at all times. And it’s critical you do everything I say, without question.”
She looked doubtful. “Are you sure we’re safe here?”
“Positive.” Needing to see her smile, he tweaked her nose. “But I’m still cautious.”
* * *
They hit the women’s clothing department first. “Think warm,” Grey advised. “They’re predicting another cold front.”
She selected a pair of jeans, holding them up to her waist to check the length. With her bandaged hands and knees, she didn’t feel like trying them on.
Grey moved closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Don’t flinch every time I touch you,” he mouthed in her ear. “We’re supposed to be married, remember?”
She suppressed a shiver. She had carnal knowledge of this man. She carried his child. And still his slightest touch nearly sent her through the roof.
“I’ll be more careful,
John,
” she whispered back.
Grey looked at the jeans she clutched. “Shouldn’t we be looking at maternity clothes?”
Tess tossed the jeans into the shopping cart.
Maternity clothes
?
She hadn’t even thought of those. What would she look like nine months pregnant? Would Grey find her attractive then? Would he be around to see?
“Right now my normal size is still baggy.”
“Which is something I intend to rectify. You’re supposed to be eating for two
,
and you’re barely feeding one.” Grey reached forward and pulled several more pair of jeans in the same size off the rack. At her questioning look he shrugged. “Sorry. We’re in a hurry and I don’t want to shop more than once. What about those sweaters?”
When they moved to the lingerie section the cart was half-filled. Grey deftly fingered a silky bra. Tess flushed, recalling the feel of those long fingers on her breasts.
“What size are we looking for, darling? You’re not going to tell me you can still fit them in a 36D?” His whisper was evil.
Tess shot him a quelling look. “
We
can find our own bras, thank you.”
Turning away she rifled through another rack of bras. He did have a point. Unlike her stomach, her already ample bustline seemed to be increasing daily. Perhaps a maternity bra was in order.
Grey whistled softly, getting her attention. He held up a pair of deep blue bikini panties. “Size 5, right?” His not
-
so
-
subtle reminders that he remembered her underwear size from their time together rankled her.
And excited
her
.
By the time she finished selecting bras, he had picked out socks and a few nightshirts. Plus a rainbow of silky panties. In the space of fifteen minutes she’d been outfitted.
They zoomed through men’s wear where Grey efficiently selected T-shirts, jeans and flannel shirts, all in dark colors. She wondered what he’d look like wearing those black jeans and a black T-shirt. Both tight. With his dark hair and silver eyes...
She watched wi
th curiosity as he selected pre
packaged boxer shorts, threw them in the cart.
“This isn’t nearly as much fun as picking out your underwear,” he teased.
She shrugged. “It’s educatio
nal. I thought you were a white-
cotton briefs kind of guy.”
He winked. “So you remember what I was wearing back then, too.”
Tess felt her face flush as his meaning hit her. Actually
Dallas
rarely wore underwear
.
H
ow many times had she admired him naked?
She moved away, ducking around a display to avoid his eyes. “Uh
,
I think the last thing we need are shoes.”
The first pair of sneakers she tried on fit perfectly. Unfortunately the sizes Grey needed were stacked beyond reach on overhead shelves. As he searched for a stepladder she wandered into the next department.
Immediately she froze, staring. The infant department.
She looked at the display of cribs, bassinets and changing tables, her eyes wide. Suspended from the ceiling were hundreds of stuffed animals, forming a fuzzy canopy over another display of strollers, high
chairs, and playpens.
To her right was a rack of tiny, frilly dresses. On her left were equally tiny suits for boys. She touched a miniature football jersey of soft terry
cloth. Funny, she had a sudden feeling she carried a boy. Maternal instinct?
She sensed Grey behind her and didn’t flinch this time when he placed an arm around her. “Anything in particular catch your eye?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t realize they had so much... stuff for babies. How do you know where to start?”
“I take it you’ve never been around infants before.”
She shook her head. “My brother’s not married. All my cousins are younger. My best friend let me hold her baby once. It was so tiny, I was scared to death I’d drop it.” She ran her fingers along the polished edge of a brass cradle, rocking it.
Grey squeezed her sho
ulders, thinking about the half
dozen nieces and nephews he adored. “You’ll do fine. It’s not that hard, really.”
She twisted free, staring at him before pointing toward a display. “It’s not hard? Just look at all the different types of baby bottles. Every size, shape
,
and color. How in the world do you decide which one to use?”
He shrugged. “The first decision is whether to breast-feed or not. I think that’s the healthiest choice for the baby, but it’s not for everyone. Most of those decorated bottles are for older babies. The decisions for newborns are actually fairly simple.”
“Is that the voice of experience?” She had never asked Gre
y point-
blank if he had children.
“I’ve fathered no children,” Grey interjected. “Except this one.”
Light as air, his hand brushed intimately across his abdomen, causing her to draw a sharp breath. Flustered, she turned away, pushing the heavy shopping cart as far away from the baby department as she could get.
Grey caught up with her, slowing her flight by placing a hand on the cart. He drew her close, stroking her hair, calming her. Then he caught her head between his hands, forcing her to look at him.
The stark bewilderment in her eyes tugged at his heart. “I know that with everything else going on you’ve barely had time to adjust to the idea you’re pregnant. But I’m here for you
,
and I hope you’ll let me play an active part in your pregnancy.”
Another couple drifted close, preventing Tess from responding. She stepped away, brooding, content to let Grey push the cart.
Just what did he mean by that? How much of a part did he plan to play?
Daddy? Husband?
How much did she want him to?
She glanced at his profile. Remembering... This was the man who’d taught her the physical pleasure unique to male and female. She’d almost fallen in love with him. Or thought she had, only to find out he wasn’t at all what she thought. And now she carried his child.
While Grey was attentive and supportive, she still wasn’t exactly sure whether he viewed the baby as anything more than an
obligation
. Her kettle of fish grew more perplexing by the day.
Grey stopped at a glass display counter containing jewelry. “We need wedding bands. What size ring do you wear?”
Wedding bands
. Her heart lurched.
She told him her size, thankful he didn’t ask her to try on one of the simple gold bands he selected. It seemed too intimate all of a sudden. No longer a game.
By the time they made it through toiletries and cosmetics, Tess’ stomach was growling again.
They hauled their purchases to the car and stowed them in the back. To her dismay, they drove another thirty minutes before stopping to eat. She knew by the randomness of their route that Grey was being cautious,
still
making certain they weren’t being followed.
They finally stopped at a small cafe, dining on salads and fried chicken. Tess was relieved
not
to have to eat in the car again. Halfway through her meal
,
though, Tess pushed her salad away. The food didn’t seem to agree with her.
Grey looked up from his plate. “What’s wrong?”
The throbbing had started up again in her hands. In fact, she ached all over. “My hands are sore.”
Reaching in his coat pocket, Grey retrieved the bottle of painkillers.
“I thought we’d stop for the night near
Raleigh
. It’s not that far,
maybe an hour from
the
North Carolina
line. Can you make it?”
She shivered against a sudden chill. “When we get there I want to soak in a tub full of hot water. For three days.”
The thought of her naked in a tub of bubbles made Grey want to leap over the table. Instead
,
he reached across, covering her hand with his.
“Let’s go.”
By the time they reached
Raleigh
it was dark. Grey stopped for gas at a small service station.
“I need to use the pay phone inside to check with Barry,” he said.
Tess opted to stay in the car. Her headache had gotten worse in spite of the medicine she’d taken, and now her stomach lurched.
Afraid she was getting sick, she rolled down the window, hoping fresh air would help. Instead she got a whiff of gas fumes. Instantly she grew nauseated.
Opening the car door, she raced toward the side of the building where the rest
-
room sign hung. She reached for the handle of the women’s room door, only to find it locked.
Frustrated and miserably sick, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the cold metal door. The coolness felt good against her too warm face, and she gulped in a deep breath. In spite of the cool night air, she felt sticky beneath her clothes and realized she was perspiring.
She felt a hand tug on her purse. Turning, she opened her mouth to explain to Grey why she’d left the car.
To her horror a man in a hooded sweatshirt pushed her against the locked door. He pressed something against her ribs.
“Don’t scream,” the man hissed. “Just drop your bag.”