Hill Country Holdup. Angi Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ face tilted to look him in the eyes. Her small hand flattened on his chest covering his heart. The rest of her body followed until he could rest his chin on the top of her head. He wanted to kiss her so badly he could barely get air into his lungs.

      Would he ever be able to think straight around her?

      “Please tell me I’m doing the right thing by trusting you,” she whispered. “They said not to let the FBI know, but I need you. I can’t do this alone.”

      He put his arms around her, loving every miserable minute of agony it caused him. At that moment he didn’t care if it would jeopardize the operation. He didn’t care if his attachment was too strong and would cloud his judgment. He wanted Jane right where she was.

      “We’ve got to call. It’s our only choice, Jane. Dallas doesn’t have any leads except you.” He let his words hang in the air a moment, but she didn’t respond. “They don’t know your neighbor is missing. If we find her, she may be able to give a description of the kidnappers.”

      “I can’t let you take me back.” Barely shaking her head, she tightened her grip on his shirt. “Not until I’ve done what they said I have to do.” Her body trembled, an imperceptible tremor that could be associated with tears.

      “It’s okay to cry, Jane,” he whispered in her ear.

      “No, it’s not. It achieves nothing and keeps me from thinking. But I miss Rory. What if he’s scared and is crying for me?”

      “You can’t think of that.” He could say the same for himself. It impaired an agent’s judgment when he got too involved. Like he was right now, cradling Jane. “We have to concentrate on getting him back. And we will. I promise.”

      But he couldn’t make promises that excluded the best way to find the Brant kid. Somehow, he’d contact his team and protect Jane. By harboring and abetting a suspected felon? Him. Steve Woods, hard-nosed, by-the-book FBI agent.

      Yeah, shot down with one look from the only woman who’d ever meant anything to him.

       Chapter Three

      The storm raged outside. Whitecaps on the lake splashed over the boat dock. A perfect scene for Jane’s turbulent feelings and emotions. She was drowning in guilt. Guilt over leaving Rory, guilt over not telling Steve straightaway he was a father.

      Even now, she couldn’t wrap her mind around any words good enough to explain why she’d waited so long to tell him. Nothing she formed in her mind convinced her to say the words aloud.

      “What’s he like?” Steve asked near the top of her head.

      “Rory?” She couldn’t breathe. Of all the things he could have asked, she wasn’t prepared to describe his son to him. Not right now.

      “Yeah, Rory. Your son.”

      Your son. Simple words she didn’t know how to correct. The lie gave her a nauseous feeling. His son, too. Was it too late to tell him?

      Just do it. Say, “Steve, you’re Rory’s father.” Tell him why you kept his son away from him for almost four years. Tell him you were an idiot and scared to death of losing everything. Tell him why you came back to Texas.

      Tell him!

      “I thought you said you needed to make a call,” she said instead, too much of a coward to try to convince Steve of anything else.

      “Calling will wait.”

      Jane searched his face for Agent Steve Woods. He was as reliable as a Swiss Army knife when it came to the Bureau. He’d never put off work before. He’d chosen his job over a possible future with her.

      Granted, four years ago they’d only been together several weeks and he’d been between assignments. But the fervor he’d used when talking about his job made her more than a little envious.

      She’d yearned for that passion. It was part of what drew her to him. It would be so nice to get lost in Steve’s enthusiasm for life. To forget about all her worries for just a little while. But Rory’s kidnapping was her first priority.

      Lightning lit the sky and thunder shook the windows. The weather wasn’t working in her favor. The longer she waited to tell him the truth, the less he’d believe her. What would he say when she admitted she’d kept knowledge of his child from him?

      “Maybe this conversation should wait. It’s getting worse out there.” He nodded his head toward the window. “Why don’t you get cleaned up? I’ll hit my mom’s closet for some clothes. You can at least start out mud-free before we take off again.”

      His breath moved tendrils of hair across her face. It tickled her skin, but she wasn’t about to move from his arms. She needed to feel connected to someone, anyone, but was grateful it was Steve.

      “What’s going to happen?” She tried to remain calm, to keep the shakiness from her voice. “If they have the money and the formula, why not give Rory back?”

      “I don’t know, Janie. I really don’t know.”

      “WE HAD…LEAD…OPERATIONS…moved…San Antonio.”

      “I’m only getting every other word, George.” He was soaked to the skin after standing on the covered porch, but it was the only place his phone halfway worked. Steve glanced through the window to an empty living room as he spoke into his cell. “Can you hear me? She’s innocent.”

      “I can have a team…evacuation point…approximately two hours…local PD to pick her up.” George’s distorted voice punched through the static on the connection.

      “No.” He hated the thought of Jane in handcuffs. “George, trust me. I don’t need any help to get her to San Antonio. Set up around the Alamo like I asked so we can catch these bastards.”

      “You…way over your head. You know…and McCaffrey hit the roof…you were gone.”

      “I’m losing the connection, man. We’ll meet you in San Antonio. Give me your word.”

      “You’re wrong. You can’t trust…”

      “Just check it out for me.”

      “You…the river has crested…evacuated your area.”

      Beep. Beep. Beep.

      “Son of a…” He resisted the impulse to throw the state-of-the-art piece of crap into the soggy yard. Before his broken phone call the lake had been a couple of feet from the house. Now it was creeping into his mother’s flowers.

      The homes on the north shore of Lake Buchanan had been evacuated since yesterday. Even though the lake was flood-regulated, it didn’t stop the creeks that fed it from becoming dangerous flash-flood zones. The river had already crested and the rain kept coming down in sheets.

      They’d lost time talking about the kidnapping. His job of helping victimized children had suddenly become grimly personal. The lake water rushed by, but he couldn’t seem to get moving. He had one of those feelings of dread stuck in the pit of his stomach. He just couldn’t pinpoint what Jane was lying about and the whole scenario СКАЧАТЬ