Garrett slid into the driver’s seat and looked over his shoulder at Sam, who was stuffing the back with the pillows for Sophie.

“So are you telling her what’s going down?”

Sam paused, then met Garrett’s gaze. “No.”

Garrett raised a brow. “You don’t think she’ll see it as an ambush?”

“Probably.”

“She’s going to be pissed, man.”

Sam stared back at his brother. “You don’t seem concerned with pissing her off.”

“I’m not sleeping with her either. And she’s not carrying my child.”

Sam punched one of the pillows, then withdrew from the back and stood by the door, his hand gripping the top of the window.

“I don’t want her to be prepared for Resnick. If she’s off guard, we might learn more. She’s holding back. What, I’m not sure, but she hasn’t told us everything.”

“We agree on that much.”

Sam watched as the vehicles bearing his family to safety filed out of the driveway, and then he went back into the house. He found Sophie standing in the living room in her sock feet. She looked nervous and lost.

For a moment self-disgust held him immobile. He was feeding her to the wolves. Not that he’d allow Resnick to work her over, but he was taking Sophie into a situation with no warning. Yeah, it would work better that way, but he felt like an ass.

He had a family to protect, and he couldn’t do that without all the information. Information he was positive Sophie held. If Resnick was that confident that Sophie was someone the CIA wanted to question, it stood to reason that she knew something.

“Sophie.”

She looked in his direction, and he could see the strain on her face. The deep sadness in her eyes hit him deep. He stepped forward, wanting to touch her. His fingers traced down her arm until he caught her fingers in his.

“Why do you look so sad?” he asked.

Her lips trembled as she tried to smile. She looked away and stared around the room.

“Do you know how lucky you are?”

That wasn’t at all what he’d expected her to say.

“Why do you say that?”

She tugged lightly with her hand, but he tightened his grip, refusing to let her move away from him.

“You have all of this.” She gestured with her free hand, encompassing the room. “You have magic.”

Again her blue eyes stared up at him, and he was struck by the wash of emotion there. They shone with unshed tears and his gut tightened.

“You have a family. A history. It’s so obvious that there’s love here. It must have been wonderful to grow up in this house.”

He pulled her carefully into his arms and tucked her head underneath his chin. He didn’t know what to say to her other than to agree. What kind of childhood had she endured growing up under someone like Alex Mouton? And where was her mother? She hadn’t said much about her mother at all, and none of his intel had ever mentioned a woman or a daughter.

Resnick had a lot to answer for. He’d sent KGI in without important information. Like the fact that Mouton had a daughter. Sam damn sure wouldn’t have gotten involved with Sophie if he’d known that little fact. Looking back, he realized it had been damn convenient.

But here, now, with her in his arms, and feeling the kick of their child, it was easy to say he wouldn’t have involved himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Even if Sophie was firmly involved in her father’s dealings. If nothing else, his child wouldn’t live with the repercussions of her mother’s or her grandfather’s choices.

Surprising him, Sophie turned into his chest and hugged him fiercely. Slowly his arms came around her, and he held her there as she buried her face in his shoulder.

He wasn’t at all sure what she needed from him. Oh, he could guess, but all he could offer was protection. He was determined to keep the rest of himself locked away—at least until . . . what? She proved herself worthy?

The thought sickened him even as it took root in his mind. There was no way to sugarcoat what he was doing. He hated that he didn’t trust her completely, but he’d be an idiot to offer his faith blind. Too many people depended on him.

The sooner they met with Resnick, the sooner he could get on with the business of dispatching Mouton once and for all. Then maybe he and Sophie could work on the seemingly insurmountable obstacles between them.

“Come,” he murmured into her hair. “Let’s get your shoes. Garrett’s waiting. We need to get on the road.”

She didn’t ask where they were going. She took his hand and let him lead her from the living room toward the front door.

Her trust humbled him and made the sick feeling in his stomach grow larger.

He was very afraid that when this was all over, he wouldn’t have proven himself worthy to her.

CHAPTER 15

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you and Sophie alone,” Garrett said as he navigated traffic through Nashville, toward the airport.

Sam leaned against the door, Sophie in his arms, her lower body sprawled across the seat. She’d fallen asleep thirty miles out of Dover, and her soft, even breathing filled the back of the vehicle.

He absently ran his fingers through the strands of blond hair resting on her cheek as he stared back at Garrett’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

“I don’t want to give Resnick our location. He was way too damn eager to know about Sophie. Given half a chance, he’d bring in a team and take her. If you go and bring him in, I don’t have to worry about that happening.”

Garrett nodded. “I’ll make damn sure we aren’t followed. If I have to drug and blindfold the fucker, he won’t have a clue where I’m taking him.”

Garrett drove into the long-term parking lot and cut the engine. Sam gently touched Sophie on the cheek.

“Sophie, wake up. We’re at the airport.”

Her eyelids fluttered and then popped open. She tried to rise, her movements awkward against him. He helped her to a sitting position, and she stared around, her eyes wide.

“Sam, I don’t have any of my documents. My passport.”

“We’re not flying anywhere. Garrett is. But nobody has to know that. We’re going to take a trip into the terminal and then you and I are going to slip back out and change vehicles.”

She frowned. “Where is Garrett going?”

Garrett glanced at Sam and then back at Sophie. “Just a little fact-finding mission. I’ll meet up with you two at Eagle One.”

Sophie shook her head as if clearing the cobwebs as Sam helped her from the back of the SUV.

“What is Eagle One? Everyone keeps talking about it.”

“One of our safe houses,” Sam said.

He tucked her elbow into his palm and directed her toward the elevator.

“Act natural, Sophie. Smile. We don’t want to draw any undue attention.”

Twenty minutes later, Sam and Sophie exited through the passenger pickup and got into a cab. He directed the driver to a location just outside the downtown area and then sat back and pulled Sophie to him.

“Are you hurting?”

She shook her head against the crook of his arm. “I’m feeling much better. I’m hungry again, but I stay hungry these days.”

He smiled and automatically glanced down at her belly, which was pressed to his side.

“I’ll get you something to eat as soon as we’re on our way again.”

She didn’t question him further. Didn’t ask where they were going or how long it would take. She just settled against him and rested.

They got out of the cab, and Sam put Sophie into the front seat of a black Ford Expedition. Then he unlocked the back and pulled up the flooring to survey the small arsenal stashed there.

He holstered a Glock, popped the clip into one of the assault rifles, then pulled out the sat phone and a small GPS unit. He put the flooring back down and then walked back to get into the driver’s seat.

Sophie’s eyes widened briefly when she took in the rifle, but she didn’t say a word as he laid it barrel-down between their seats.

“We’re not going far today,” he told her as he cranked the engine. “I’ve sent Steele and his team ahead to recon. We’ll stay behind them until he gives me the all clear. Thought you might like hot food, a hot bath and a comfortable bed.”

Her hands shook in her lap and she looked up at him, her eyes stark and hollow.

“That would be absolutely wonderful.”

He reached for her hand, curling his fingers around hers as he pulled onto the highway. For a moment her hand lay limply in his, until finally she threaded her fingers tighter into his and held on.

THEY pulled into a roadside motel a few hours later. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it wasn’t a dive either. At the moment, Sophie didn’t care as long as nothing crawled on her and it had running water and a decent bed. In fact, the bed didn’t even have to be decent.

Surprisingly, she was pain-free, and she could actually move her arm in varying degrees without irritating her wound. She still ached from head to toe, but she was looser now, and if she could get another hot bath, it would go a long way in restoring her fortitude.

Sam returned with keys, and they walked to a room on the very end. The only suite the motel boasted, but it advertised a Jacuzzi tub, so she was all over that.

“I’ll run you a bath, and you can soak while I order food. Do you have a preference?” Sam asked. “I’ll get the bags out of the truck so you’ll have clean clothes to change into.”

Her brow crinkled. “Bags? We didn’t bring any bags.”

He smiled. “Taken care of.”

Her mouth gaped open. “But how?”

“Always pays to be prepared.”

She shook her head. He was feeding her a line of crap. Someone had to have packed the truck for them. Probably one of his many team members.

“Come on. I’ll help you into the tub and then leave you to it,” he said as he guided her toward the bathroom.

She stopped and put a hand on his arm. “I can do it. I’m okay.”

He stared at her a moment, then nodded. “Okay then. I’ll take care of the bags and getting food.”

She didn’t spend as much time in the tub as she had at Sam’s mom and dad’s. She could hear him outside the bathroom, and she was filled with a restless urgency to get back to him.

Other than stiffness and a little residual soreness, her wound didn’t bother her as much as she had thought it would, given that she’d been shot. She tested the ridge of the stitched seam with her fingers and examined it in the mirror. It was slightly puckered, a little swollen around the sutures, but there was no angry redness to denote infection. Those antibiotic shots Donovan had given her had done the trick.

She towel-dried her hair and then realized that Sam hadn’t brought in a change of clothes for her. Her baggy pants and T-shirt lay on the floor soaking up the water she’d dripped from the shower.

With a sigh, she wrapped a towel around her and cracked open the bathroom door. She didn’t see Sam, so she pushed farther into the room, craning her neck to see around the doorway.

She saw Sam the same time he looked up and saw her. There was a spark in his eyes, and he quickly looked away but then lifted his gaze once more as if he couldn’t resist.

“I uhm don’t have any clothes,” she murmured.

He moved to the bed and rummaged in one of the bags there before pulling out a pair of jeans, underwear, and a shirt. He circled around the end of the bed and stalked toward her with purposeful steps.

She almost backed away. She felt small and vulnerable, and he was looking at her just like he’d looked at her all those nights they’d spent in another hotel.

He stopped just a foot in front of her, so close that his heat reached out and circled her like the damp towel she wore so close to her breast.

The clothes were in his hand, but he didn’t move to give them to her and she didn’t reach for them.

His gaze was so intense. So penetrating. She felt naked. So itchy and alive. She swallowed, but nothing she did ridded her of the knot in her throat. It ached like she ached.

The clothes dropped silently to the floor. His hands cupped her bare shoulders. His fingers caressed her skin.

Slowly and with infinite tenderness his mouth descended over hers. His breath danced across her skin, and then he captured her lips in a long, hot kiss. Time melted away like ice on a summer day. She was back in his arms in the hotel room where they met after she left the bar each night.

He’d always waited for her, pulling her into his arms as soon as she walked through the door. Their clothes flew and they reacted desperately to the passion that existed between them.

She’d give anything to go back to those precious nights she’d spent in his arms. But she’d always known she couldn’t have forever.

Yet now, under the heat of his lips, she clung to him, wanting him so badly that the ache far surpassed the pain of her injuries.