Daddy With A Badge. Paula Riggs Detmer

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СКАЧАТЬ safe.”

      Her expression sobered. “She meant well, Rafe. From her point of view I had been promised to Mark in my cradle and my…infatuation with you frightened her.”

      Emotions he neither welcomed nor completely understood swam through him. It was tougher than he’d expected, hanging on to even the most justified resentments when the woman in front of him was looking more fragile with every breath she took.

      “Come on, let’s get some food in you before we get to those questions you promised to answer.” He tucked his hand into the small of her back and started to guide her toward the living room. She took a few steps, and then faltered.

      “Danni?”

      She turned her head up to look at him, and her fingers closed over his arm, her nails digging in. She licked her lips, then took a shaky breath. As he looked down at her, her sloe-dark eyes glazed over, and her lashes fluttered like little dark brushes.

      Alarm jolted through him as he curled one arm around her back. Bad guys he could handle. Even lousy memories that made him bleed inside were manageable, but a pregnant woman clutching him as though her very life depended on hanging on tight had him going ice-cold with panic. “Danni, talk to me,” he demanded. Pleaded. “Is it the baby? Are you in pain?”

      “No pain. It’s just…I’m…sorry, Rafe, but I’m terribly afraid I’m going to…uh…I think…oh, hell.” And then, just like that she crumpled against him like a limp, sad-faced rag doll.

      His heart slamming with more than simple panic, Rafe scooped her into his arms and felt her settle bonelessly against him. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, her lashes resting on her cheeks and her mouth softly parted as though in a sigh, giving her a poignantly vulnerable look that pushed a lot of buttons he’d thought he’d disconnected long ago.

      “Damn, this is turning into a disaster,” he muttered, tightening his grip.

      “Worse,” Gresham replied, looking far from composed. “What do you think? 911?”

      God! “Yeah.”

      “Phone’s in my jacket,” Seth said before hurrying into the living room. Rafe followed at a more careful pace.

      “Hold off a minute,” he ordered as Seth flipped open his cell phone. He figured five to ten minutes for 911 to respond versus a quick trip across the street to fetch her own doctor. He ran their recent conversation through his mind, sifting for the name. “She said her doctor lived across the street, right?”

      Seth shot a fast look toward the window facing the side street. “Yeah, she did say that. Almost seems like Fate.”

      Rafe dismissed that with a scowl. “Jarrod, I think she said his name was. He’d be the best one to see to her if he’s home. If not, then we’ll go with 911.”

      Luke Jarrod had been a physician long enough to recognize panic when it flashed in a man’s eyes—even a buttoned-up government type carrying a badge and an official looking ID.

      He’d been settled deep in the ancient recliner Maddy considered mud ugly but grudgingly permitted house room, with his sleeping son curled like an exhausted angel in his lap, watching the Mariners play the Yankees when the guy had rung the bell.

      While the agent paced the front walk, he’d tucked Ollie into his crib, kissed his sleeping wife on her cheek, and then because he never forgot to be grateful she was in his life again, kissed her one more time before collecting his bag from the closet shelf and hauled ass.

      Knowing his Maddy girl the way he did, it was a pretty good bet she’d be spitting cat furious when she found out he hadn’t roused her to help out a fellow member of the Mommy Brigade. He hated it when he had to play the tough guy, but he’d deal with it.

      After nursing a cranky two-year-old through his first bout of the flu, she’d come down with it herself. The worst was over, but both needed their rest, and he was just the man to see they got it.

      A sliver of lingering blue sky rode over the growing twilight to the west as he cut across Morgan’s prized lawn, the preppy agent with the Yankee blue-blood name a half-stride behind. The guy’s ID looked genuine, but what did he know about government agencies? Now, the nine-millimeter pistol he’d seen when the guy’s coat flapped open, that was about as real as real got these days.

      Not a suspicious man by nature, Luke had become intensely protective of Danni and her daughter. The other guys of the Row felt the same way. Though no one said the words out loud, each was privately hoping he’d be the first one to lay eyes on that bastard Sommerset if he dared show his face.

      As soon as he got her checked out, he intended to give Case a quick call and ask him to use his cop’s connections to find out what was going on. Right now, though, Danni needed his professional expertise more than she needed a surrogate big brother.

      By the time Luke bounded up the front steps of the Paxton place, he’d run through everything he had retained from the notes he’d taken during Danni’s last few visits.

      Nineteen weeks gestation, no abnormalities, good fetal heart sounds, due for an ultrasound on her next visit. Other than frequent bouts of morning sickness, it had been a routine pregnancy.

      “Door’s unlocked, Doc,” Gresham said quickly, but Luke had already shoved it open.

      Inside, a tall, superbly built man in his late thirties, early forties stood guard over the sofa where Danni lay unmoving. As Luke had entered, one large hand had gone instinctively to the weapon riding on his hip before his piercing green eyes had spied the medical bag.

      “Dr. Jarrod?”

      Luke was neither surprised nor intimidated by the brusque tone. A man accustomed to command was a controlled man, and a controlled man was a useful ally if things turned sour.

      “I’m Jarrod,” he said, clipping his own words. “Who are you?”

      “Rafael Cardoza.”

      Neither wasted time on a handshake.

      “What have you done for her so far?”

      Guarded green eyes cut back to the sofa. “Nothing other than the cold compress on her head.”

      “Did she complain of pain in her head?” Luke asked quickly.

      “No, she just said she was feeling woozy, then went out fast.” He flicked a glance toward his partner who confirmed his account.

      “She did look a little green before the lights went out.”

      “Is it serious, do you think?” Agent Cardoza asked tersely.

      “Too soon to tell.” Luke set his bag on the coffee table, then went into the kitchen to wash his hands.

      “She spent a lot of time in the can throwing up,” Cardoza told him when he returned. “Wouldn’t let me in to check on her.”

      “Any idea when she ate last?”

      “No. She had some tea.” His gaze touched the mug on the coffee table.

      As Luke listened to Danni’s СКАЧАТЬ