Her Baby's Bodyguard (18 page)

No! She couldn’t go there. They had to be all right.

She drew up her knees, wrapped her arms around her legs and pressed her aching breasts to her thighs. “Katya likes to be held. And she needs to be burped for at least fifteen minutes after she’s been fed.”

“Yes, we’ve all noticed your daughter is quite vocal about making her needs known.”

“Is she still accepting the bottle?”

“She has too good an appetite to refuse it, but she pouts about it first.”

Eva clenched her fists, trying to hold the tears at bay. The ship’s doctors had consulted with pediatricians at a base hospital and devised an infant formula from the supplies available on board. Katya was getting nourishment; that’s all that was important, even though the bottle Eva had packed among her baby supplies had been meant for water, not milk. She had planned to breast-feed her baby for a full year, just as the books had recommended.

But they weren’t going to have a full year together. They might not have much more than a week. “How soon…” She stopped and swallowed hard. “How much longer before you know the results of the blood tests?”

The nurse placed her gloved hand over Eva’s arm. “It should be soon.”

“You’ll tell me right away, won’t you? I want to know. Either way. I
need
to know.”

“The minute we learn anything about you or your daughter, we’ll tell you. I promise.”

“What about the soldiers who brought me to the ship? Are their results in yet?”

“We’re processing everything as fast as we can, Eva. Have patience.” She gave her arm a parting squeeze and then picked up the rack of blood samples and used her shoulder to push aside one of the plastic sheets. It settled back into place with a squeaking swish, leaving Eva alone.

That was the worst part of staying in this plastic-walled prison. This was the first time since she’d sensed her child’s life growing within her that she’d been completely alone. She’d lived with emptiness before. She’d learned to fill it by using her mind, yet now that she’d opened her heart she could never go back to the way she’d been. Even if love hurt, she was going to embrace it.

Because in the end, it was only love that endured. Her own mother’s face had grown hazy in her memory, but she remembered the love in her voice as she read from her book of fairy tales and the softness of her good-night kiss on her forehead. And there was the way Grandma’s smile would crinkle all the lines on her face whenever Eva had taken her hand. Even her father had loved her in his own way. He hadn’t been physically demonstrative, but his eyes had shone with love and pride with each award and degree she’d received. No matter what high-level diplomatic negotiations had been going on, he’d managed to be there for every one of her birthdays and graduation ceremonies except the last.

But Katya would be too young to remember anything. She wouldn’t have the memory of her mother’s touch to comfort her when she grew older. She wouldn’t see the pride in her eyes. Eva wouldn’t be there when her daughter graduated kindergarten. She wouldn’t be there for her first birthday. She might not live to see Katya get off this ship.

And what would Jack remember about her? Would he think of her when he was finally free to leave? When he flew off to another mission, would he remember the passion they’d shared in that cramped, steel-walled cabin? And when he went home again would he meet some other woman who would be able to unlock all the tenderness he kept inside? He deserved to be happy, to have someone who loved him….

Eva dropped her forehead to her knees. The grief for what might have been was there, waiting to swallow her if she let it, but she wasn’t going to give in. It would be a waste of the time she had left.

Dear God, she didn’t want to die.

Plastic swished again. Eva lifted her head. Through her tears she saw that a man wearing the same kind of long-sleeved gown and mask as the nurses did was standing at the foot of her bed. “Are the test results in?” she asked.

“Not yet, Eva.”

That was Jack’s voice. She wiped her eyes fast and focused on what she could see of his face. “Jack? What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.” He glanced at the monitor and the IV drip and then pushed aside the tray table and sat on the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Her lips trembled. He was keeping his tone casual, just as he’d done when he’d first discovered her bullet wound. That seemed so long ago now. “Better than I was. With all the drugs they’re giving me, I feel as if I shouldn’t even be in this bed. What about you? Are you all right?”

“Other than getting stir crazy waiting around to hear from the doctors?”

“Yes, other than that.”

“No fatigue, no dizziness. No sign that anything’s wrong.” He eased her arm away from her knees and took her hand. Even through the latex gloves he wore, his warmth flowed into her fingers. “Katya doesn’t have any symptoms, either.”

Hope surged. “You’ve seen Katya? She’s really all right?”

“She’s in the quarantine ward with us. So are those CIA agents and the helicopter crew.”

“And the medical staff? They’re treating Katya well?”

“She’s got them all wrapped around her tiny fingers. Between Meg Hurlbut and the nurses, she gets enough attention for five kids. When she grows up she’ll either have a great career as a drill sergeant or she’ll have to look for a job opening for a princess. She sure seems to like being waited on.”

He was trying to make her smile. That fact only brought a lump to her throat. “All I hope is that she does grow up.”

“She will, Eva. She’s strong, like her mother.” He blotted her cheeks with the edge of the blanket. “You’ll get through this.”

“The Chameleon Virus is fatal, Jack.”

“It might be something else. Someone could have coughed on those sausages we got in that town whose name I can’t pronounce. It could be the flu. Or the mumps. Ever had the mumps?”

She gripped his hand. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but we both know it’s not the flu or the mumps.”

“I’m not doing anything. I wish I could.”

“Please, don’t feel responsible for me. I know it was once your job to protect me, but this virus is one thing you can’t protect me from.”

He tipped back his head, his throat working. “I know.”

“And I want you to know I never considered the possibility that I could have been infected. From the time I’d learned I was pregnant, I kept away from the laboratory building. I only went into Burian’s lab the day before I left, but it’s on the fourth floor. The containment levels are underground. That’s where all the hazardous work is done.”

“This isn’t your fault, Eva.”

She wished she could believe that. “I’ve gone over and over my actions, and I can’t think of any other place I would have been exposed to the live virus. Even then, I don’t know how it happened. The only thing I touched in Burian’s lab was his computer. If I’d thought there was even a remote risk of contamination, I would have worn protective clothing.”

“I know you would. You think everything through.”

“And if I’d suspected what was wrong with me, I never would have kissed you. I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry.”

“Seems to me I was to blame for that, not you.”

“No, I should have realized—”

“Will you quit apologizing? I make it a practice to do five dangerous things before breakfast, remember?”

Her laugh came out as a sob. She covered her face with her hands. The beeps from the monitor accelerated.

“Hey, that can’t be good for you,” he muttered. He lifted his arms to reach for her.

She straightened her legs and shoved herself farther toward the head of the bed. “No! You shouldn’t be this close to me. Not until we know for sure what I’ve got.”

“I had your blood on my skin a few hours after we met, and we’ve already shared bodily fluids. If I was going to get what you have, I’d already have it. I probably shouldn’t bother wearing this mask.”

“God, I’m sorry.”

“Shh. Risk is part of my job.” He leaned forward and laid his hands on her shoulders. “But making love to you wasn’t. Eva, I let things get out of control. I hadn’t meant for the kiss to go so far. I should have noticed that you weren’t well, but I wasn’t thinking. I’m the one who owes you an apology.”

“Is that why you’re here? Because you’re sorry about what happened between us?”

“Hell, no. I’m apologizing for the way it ended. I’m not sorry it happened. Are you?”

She didn’t have to think about her answer for one instant. “No. It felt wonderful.”

“Except for the passing out part.”

“Yes, except for that.”

“The docs figure your increased pulse rate put too much strain on your heart. If I’d known—” he shook his head “—I don’t think I would have stopped, Eva. I’m not that noble. Maybe I would have been gentler, but—”

“Jack, please. Don’t feel guilty. It’s a waste of time.”

The word hung in the air between them. Jack rubbed his thumbs across the cotton of her hospital gown. “It’s not over yet.”

“In another ten days—fourteen at the most—it will be.”

“The spooks said they’ve got scientists back in the States who’ve been analyzing the data that was on the disk you gave them. Ted Shires brought his laptop into quarantine to follow their progress. They’re sending e-mail updates to him and the medical staff here. Duncan’s been keeping track of it, too. He told me the experts are learning more about the virus by the minute. They’re bound to come up with something.”

It was probably foolish of her, yet she wanted with every ounce of her being to believe him. And she wanted the comfort of his touch, his warmth, his familiar scent. But she couldn’t touch him, and all she could smell was boiled cotton.

It didn’t matter. His presence alone was like sunshine in the windowless room. He was a good man. A caring lover. She had plenty of regrets, but making love with Jack wasn’t among them. She’d realized that one night would be all that they’d have even before she’d gotten sick. He’d given her more passion in a few hours than she’d known in her lifetime. He’d made her feel…alive.

Dammit, why did she have to meet him
now?

“What are you doing here, Sergeant?”

Eva looked past Jack to the plastic curtains. Dr. Arguin, the doctor who had examined her most recently, had returned. He was frowning over his glasses at Jack.

And he wasn’t wearing a mask.

Jack must have noticed it at the same time. He slid from the bed and took a step toward the doctor. “What’s going on? Did you lift the quarantine?”

“There’s no reason to continue it.”

“Then you got the test results? Eva’s okay?”

Oh, yes, she thought. Please. Let it all be a false alarm. A bad dream. If they were lifting the quarantine, that meant they weren’t worried she would spread anything.

But if it was good news, wouldn’t the doctor be smiling?

“I’d like to speak to my patient alone, Sergeant Norton,” he said.

Eva sat forward. “Please, don’t make me wait any longer. Tell me now.”

“Better do as she says, Doctor,” Jack said, pulling off his own mask. “Because you should know I’m not going anywhere until you do.”

Dr. Arguin moved to the foot of the bed. Instead of meeting Eva’s eyes, he looked at the monitor and then down at his hands.

She could see the answer on his face before he spoke. She wanted to cover her ears to stop from hearing it. No. Oh, God, no!

“We’ve compared your blood samples to the latest data we received from the disk you provided,” Dr. Arguin said. “I’m very sorry, Dr. Petrova. There’s no longer any doubt. The pathogen in your blood is the Chameleon Virus.”

Even though Jack had figured this was coming for the past two days, hearing the diagnosis confirmed was like a blow to the gut. He wanted to smash something. He wanted to swear. But the beat from the monitor was accelerating again, so for Eva’s sake he could do neither. He turned and took her hand.

She laced her fingers with his and folded their joined hands to her breasts. He didn’t think she realized she was doing it. Her attention was solely on the doctor.

“And my baby?” she asked.

“Your daughter is fine.”

“Did you say—” Her voice broke. She pressed her lips together, her eyes brimming.

“There’s no trace of the virus in her system, Dr. Petrova. We’ve taken blood samples at eight separate intervals over the past forty-eight hours, and they have all come back negative. Judging by the rate the virus multiplies, if it was present, it would have been detected.”

She looked at Jack. Pain and joy warred on her face.

He pulled off his gloves and wiped a tear from her cheek. He could see that she was trying to retain control and it killed him. She was more concerned for her child than for herself. She had to be the strongest woman he’d ever met. “Katya will be fine, Eva.”

She nodded. “And Sergeant Norton?” she asked. “The rest of the soldiers?”

“The same. All negative. It’s as you said. The virus appears to have adapted itself to your DNA immediately.”

“Then it’s not contagious?” Jack asked.

“According to the experts, Dr. Petrova couldn’t transmit it now any more than she could spread her eye color to someone else. This virus is unique, unlike anything I’ve seen before. It’s behaving more like a poison than a microorganism.”

“That’s how Burian said he’d designed it,” Eva said. Her voice trembled. “To eliminate only the target population. A humane weapon that delivers a merciful death. He was very proud of what he’d accomplished.” She closed her eyes. Her chest heaved with a sob.

Jack put his knee on the bed. Taking care not to dislodge Eva’s IV tube or the monitor wire, he slipped his arms around her back and drew her toward him.

She didn’t resist this time. She fitted her head into the hollow of his neck, just as she had so many times before. But this time, he couldn’t shield her. He couldn’t fight this enemy for her. He couldn’t help her with some field first aid and a med kit, either. He’d never felt more useless in his life.

No, that wasn’t right. This was how he’d felt when he’d watched his mother die. It had taken her years.