Burned Hearts (6 page)

He gave me a look that clearly said he knew leaving that potentially fatal situation up to Tom wasn't possible—if he wanted to please or pacify me.

“The FBI is searching for them. It's out of my hands now, but I did give them some leads I thought might be useful. Amano had some ideas as well.” His head rolled back and forth against the pillow as he added, “Problem is, my network has been compromised, as we learned today. So I can't pinpoint a specific direction in which to go with this. I don't know who to trust at the moment.”

I inhaled deeply. Tried not to panic any more than I had been all morning. He didn't need me crazed on top of everything else he dealt with—including his latest society-inflicted wound.

“How do you feel?” I asked. “Aside from wanting to rip the heads off of a hell of a lot of people?”

He snickered. “It's a little hard to see past that at present.”

“I can believe that. But, Dane, you have to concentrate on healing.”

“That's the doc's job—why I pay him so damn much. All I can think of is how I'm going to get my revenge on Bryn Hilliard.”

I swept away some wayward strands from Dane's forehead. He usually kept his dark hair shorter but still wore the mussed style perfectly, even though it was a bit longer than normal. Sexily rakish. “I don't like you adding another layer to all of this.”

He crooked a brow at me.

“I know. I hear you without you even saying a word. At the same time, you agreed to legal retribution. Not bodily harm.”

His emerald gaze was a steely one. “You can't even begin to imagine how furious I am. How much what just happened—what could have happened to you and our child—terrified the hell out of me.”

“Yes, I can.” I swallowed a lump of emotion. “Because you were in the line of fire, too. So was Kyle.” I fought the churning of my stomach. “There is nothing worse in my mind than losing you. Except—”

I spared a glance at my belly. A peculiar thought gelled in my head. One I wasn't sure he'd understand.

I said, “I don't really know how to say this, because it won't come out right. But I would sacrifice myself for you; the way you did for me. It's just that, in doing so, I'd put our son's life in danger. I wouldn't want to hurt him. Or leave you without him.”

The waterworks started. All this tension couldn't be good for the baby, which aggravated me further. Made me a little irrational, so that I wasn't quite thinking straight.

I told Dane, “You'd be upset if anything happened to me, I know. But this kid…” I stared up at Dane and saw the raw pain in his eyes. “That would be pure hell for you.”

“
All
of this is pure hell for me.”

“But it's
necessary,
Dane.” I emphasized the importance of what he was doing, even though it bordered on disastrous. Yet there was so much good that would inevitably come of us sticking to the plan. “I chose to travel this path with you. I'm perfectly aware of the risks. I had plenty of opportunities to step away from the flame. But I love you and I can't be without you. And what you're doing—”

I sighed, not able to latch on to the words to accurately express my admiration for his determination and resiliency. “So many people will benefit from the collapse of the society. You're the one making it happen. I'm so proud of you.”

I leaned toward him and he draped his good arm around my shoulder, holding me tight. My cheek pressed to his bare pecs, his warm, smooth skin reassuring. I flattened my palm against the corrugated grooves of his abdomen and stayed nestled against him for Lord only knew how long, inhaling his delicious scent and finding the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing.

He drifted in and out of sleep, likely from the pain meds. I gleaned a huge amount of relief from his light, fluid snoring. It helped to bring my anxiety down several notches.

Amano came for us mid-afternoon, when Dane was rested.

“You're packed,” Amano told me in his low voice. “Whenever you're both ready, we'll move.”

“No time like the present,” I said, desperately wanting to go home. I gazed at Dane, whose eyelids had fluttered open when he'd heard Amano speak. “If you're up to it, that is.”

“Of course.” He didn't have any trouble throwing his long, powerful legs over the side of the bed and getting to his feet. My brow dipped. Maybe he'd refused the pain meds, not wanting anything to impair his judgment or slow him down. “Let's do this,” he simply said.

Dread clawed at me. He had to be hurting. Inside and out.

Amano told him, “Strauss came for Tom and the rifle. Questioned Kyle and myself. He'll be in contact with you again once he's interrogated Talbot.”

“That prick had better know to stay away from my family.” Dane's tone was deadly.

My stomach coiled. I figured we were due for a serious talk about all this turmoil, not just what had happened today. But now was hardly the time, so it was shoved to the back burner.

Which created a bit more internal strife. I couldn't help feeling as though our relationship, our marriage, our love grew more tenuous with every threat against us. And it was evident in Dane's eyes that this weighed heavy on his mind as well.

Yet we were too caught up in the current situation to address the overarching issue of how all of these vicious attacks impacted our life together.

We took Amano's SUV to the house in Oak Creek Canyon. He and Kyle selected rooms and assigned one to Rosa, our house manager. Amano had spoken with her and she'd agreed to a live-in arrangement. He and Dane felt more comfortable with her on-property as opposed to coming and going, possibly being followed and inadvertently putting herself in harm's way. Since she'd been with Dane for some time and didn't have kids or a husband at home, she didn't mind the employment deal. Plus, we paid her incredibly well.

The bedroom in the main wing that sat on the other side of our master suite bathroom was designated for the nursery, and I was relieved to have the impending chore of setting it up to keep my mind off everything else.

After dinner, which Kyle whipped up for everyone, since he put as much effort into being Iron Chef as he did bodyguard—a curious combination—Dane and I retired to our suite. I took a quick, hot shower just to help me relax further. Being in our home did amazing things for my psyche, and my stomach settled. I rubbed it while using my free hand to blow-dry my hair.

I couldn't imagine what this kid inside of me must be thinking. All of my agitation, jumping nerves, crying jags. Chances were good he'd want to stay huddled in his protective cocoon rather than face the big, bad world in which we lived.

But he still had four more months before making his grand entrance. Plenty of time for the mayhem to be resolved and the bad guys to be locked up. As Dane had mentioned, the trials would begin soon, and I highly doubted they'd be dragged out, given all of the evidence he'd provided.

As I thought of the decimated Lux, I felt a flutter in my belly. The first sensation of the baby stirring. I set aside the dryer and went into the bedroom, where Dane was sprawled on the California king, resting against the mound of pillows, reading a book. As I entered, he set the hardback novel aside and gave me a suspicious look.

“You're smiling.”

Yeah, not exactly something I'd done of late.

I carefully sat on the mattress so as to not jar him and placed his good hand on my stomach.

“Can you feel anything?”

I knew it wasn't really a kick. My doctor had told me I'd feel a light “popcorn popping” or the fluttering I'd experienced around this time of my pregnancy, but actual kicks were still a bit off. Didn't matter. Just feeling the baby move inside me was a wonderful, reassuring sensation.

Dane concentrated hard but then gave a slight shake of his head. “Nothing yet.”

“It's very subtle. But I feel it.”

He raised his hand and cupped the side of my face. “That's incredible. You're incredible.” Love blazed in his eyes and it warmed my heart.

“I hope I'll be a good mom.”

“You'll be the best.”

I inched forward and kissed him softly. “At least I know how
not
to be an evil witch from hell.”

That would be my own mother. A woman who had not only destroyed my father and abandoned me years ago, until she'd discovered I had something she finally deemed of worth—money and prestige—but who also recently threatened my father's stellar reputation as a former PGA favorite in an attempt to extort cash from me. She'd even tried to collect on the tragedy at 10,000 Lux.

I didn't feel guilty that she and I were estranged, that I held no love for her. I'd had to sever that tie long ago, for my own sanity. I wasn't sure anyone could honestly say they wanted absolutely nothing to do with a parent, but sometimes it was born of sheer necessity.

I had yet to tell Dane my mother had returned to Sedona after the explosion. Kyle had helped me deal with the situation at that point. I'd needed her off my back, away from me so that she didn't create more drama and tension.

Granted, I still harbored a hint of apprehension over how she'd respond if she learned Dane was alive and that we were married. Would she darken my doorstep again? Concoct some other method to get her hands on my money?

I wouldn't spend the rest of my life paying her off; I'd already discerned that. Nor would Dane. But what if she used our secret marriage against us? Worse, what if she used my pregnancy against us?

Kathryn DeMille had proven she wasn't above dirtying her own hands to better her situation. She'd been willing to fess up to adultery for the sake of a lucrative book deal if her blackmailing me didn't pan out. Luckily, Dane had put a stop to that insidious plot.

She was definitely a piece of work.

I shuddered.

Dane frowned. His thumb whisked over my cheekbone. “Hey. What are you thinking about?”

I didn't like keeping anything from him, so I admitted, “Something I failed to tell you after I was released from the hospital and figured out you were among the land of the living, though working undercover with the FBI.”

The crease between his eyes spoke volumes. If something disturbed me or posed a problem, he wanted to be the first to know. So he could deal with it.

But my independent nature forced me to try to solve my own crises. Which irked him in that possessive
it's my job to protect you, Ari
sort of way.

However, I said, “Just mentioning my mother makes me fear she's going to materialize in a plume of smoke, broom in hand.”

“Thought we took care of that.”

“No,” I corrected with a bit of scolding in my tone that made his brow crook. “
You
took care of it, when I'd specifically asked you not to, remember?”

“Ari. The woman planned to bleed you dry. You would have been stuck signing over every paycheck to her, working your fingers to the bone for nothing.”

“True,” I reluctantly agreed. “Though I was formulating a strategy to—” The other brow jerked up. The double-doubt look. I laughed softly. “All right, all right. When it comes to her, I am not nearly as strong willed as I'd like to be.” Not to mention, I'd do anything under the sun to keep my dad from being publicly humiliated. He'd never deserved her venomous attacks, mostly stemming from the fact that injuries had kept him from reaching the top tier of professional golf legends—thereby, in my mother's selfish opinion, precluding her from the elite status she'd sought by being his wife.

“Baby,” Dane said as he slid his hand through my thick hair. “If she comes back, then—”

“She did come back,” I said. And cringed.

His hand left my hair. His eyes squeezed shut briefly as he pinched the inner corners in obvious consternation. And irritation.

I sighed. I was about to get an earful.

“I didn't want to trouble you with her visits,” I explained. “You had enough on your plate after the explosion—you still do.”

His eyes snapped open. “Ari.”

“Don't get all surly.”

He speared me with a challenging look.

“Oh-kay. Too late for that.” Despite the unpleasant subject matter, a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “I thought we already ascertained that you can't save the world.”

“The world, no. My wife, yes.”

I couldn't keep the grin at bay. “And I love you for your endless devotion. But my mother is the least of our problems.”

He slowly shook his head. “She makes you cry, Ari. She makes you enraged and heartbroken all at once. I've
seen
how she devastates you. And she's on my list of people I'd like to—”

“Dane,” I said, warning in my tone. I didn't like when he went all scary-furious.

He groaned. “Whatever. Have you heard from her recently?”

“When I was in the hospital. Then I went off the grid at Macy's retreat. Technically, she has no idea how to reach me, where to find me—where to even start looking—though when she's properly motivated anything seems possible on her end. And hey, that reminds me. I need to let my dad know we're back home.”

“Jackson already took care of it.”

“He thinks of everything, doesn't he?” Our attorney was as loyal as Amano and as well connected and in tune to every little component of our lives. Thankfully, no one knew his association with us outside of our small circle. That kept him and
his
wife safe.

Dane said, “If you do somehow hear from Maleficent”—one of my nicknames for my mother—“be sure to tell me. Immediately.” He did a little scolding of his own.

“I swear.” I kissed him again. “Forgive me?”

“It depends.”

I laughed. “Liar. You wouldn't hold anything against me.”

“That's probably true. But if you gave her money this last time, you're in serious trouble.”