Slow Dancing with a Texan, page 3
“Yes, a raincoat would be great. Thanks.” Her glittering eyes scrunched up in thought. “What did you find out about my sister?” she demanded, dragging him back to earth with a thunk.
“Captain Johnson says she’s been taken to the hospital. He knows she’s going to be all right, but he isn’t sure how badly she’s been hurt. He’ll check it out and get back to us later.”
“Okay.” Lainie’s breath hitched as though she’d cut off a little sob. “She’s really going to be okay? Thank God.”
Lainie looked so forlorn and anguished standing there with nothing on and water dripping off her hair. The sight of her like that did things to him that he didn’t understand. It wasn’t pure lust, but what it really was eluded him at the moment.
He turned to leave, then looked down at the cans in his hands. “Are you thirsty? I brought you a soda,” he told her as he turned back.
“Oh, yes, please.” Her voice was tentative and her eyes still held that haunted look.
For one brief second he considered taking her in his arms and giving her all the protection and comfort she so obviously needed. But that wouldn’t be professional. And right now he desperately needed to maintain an air of professionalism.
Dignity. That’s what the situation called for. Remember the Rangers. Remember duty.
Sloan set both cans on the bed and was back out the door before she could move her first muscle. He retrieved his old black raincoat from the pickup and then counted to one hundred. Not that he needed the time to gather his wits. No indeed. He’d simply wanted to give her back a little of her own dignity for a few minutes.
When he finally reentered the room, he found that she’d left the bathroom door cracked open a few inches and was nowhere to be seen. Smart lady.
“Here’s the coat,” he mumbled. He shoved the raincoat through the opening while he turned his head away.
He felt her grab for it and then heard the door slam shut. One minute later Lainie sauntered out.
The beat-up old duster had never looked so good. It usually hit him at about knee length, but on her it dangled just above the ankles. She’d buttoned it up all the way and had the belt snugly tied around her middle.
“Thanks again. That’s better,” she said as she rolled up the sleeves. “And thanks for the soda, too. I didn’t realize how dry my throat was.”
“You’re welcome. Are you hungry? There’s a café a half mile down the road that we can take a chance on if you’d like.” He hadn’t given any consideration to her comfort since this whole thing began.
Some bodyguard he made. Her physical needs were every bit as important to her survival as was keeping her safe from outside threats. Starving both of them wouldn’t exactly get him a commendation from the captain.
Instead of answering him, Lainie covered her face with her hand. “I can’t think of food,” she moaned, and plopped down on the bed. “I can’t think of anything but Suzy. What have I done to my sister?”
He couldn’t bear to see such a strong, competent woman dissolve like this. Sitting down beside her, he slid an arm around her shoulders and drew her close.
“I told you before, you didn’t do any of this. You weren’t the one aiming bullets toward a lobby full of people. I doubt that you wanted any of this to happen. Did you?”
She glanced up at him with a wretched look of self-pity in her eyes. “No, of course not. But I should’ve paid more attention to the threats. I should’ve waited in my office for you to arrive. It’s my fault that she was standing next to me in front of those windows.”
The guilt he heard when she spoke nearly did him in. “Easy, there. Life can be chock-full of should’ves, you know. Blaming yourself is useless. It won’t bring you any peace or change the outcome one bit. And it only buys you more heartache.”
Lainie heard the pain in the quiet tone of Sloan’s voice. It made her wonder what had happened in his life that he would change if only he had a second chance.
She gazed into his eyes just in time to catch the sad look he quickly hid again. He’d never talk to her about his troubles, she knew. But that was what she did for a living. Listening and giving advice.
Deciding not to ask any personal questions until she knew him better, Lainie moved out of his embrace. “Can I see Suzy? Will you take me to the hospital?”
He slowly shook his head. “Sorry. The captain said for us to lay low tonight. Even if we knew where they’d taken your sister, it would be too risky. The hospital would be too open, too predictable.”
“You mean someone might try to kill me there? This…this person would be at the hospital waiting for us?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Who did this? Who wanted to hurt me this badly?”
“Both of those are great questions,” he told her as he stood and stretched. “Can we discuss them while we’re getting something to eat?”
She bit back sudden irritation. After all, he wasn’t a family member who cared what she thought. He was merely her bodyguard. She didn’t mean anything to him, so why should he help her figure out who the stalker might be?
“Okay,” she agreed finally. “I guess I could choke down a salad.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and let his gaze slowly wander from her soaking-wet hair all the way down to her bare feet.
“We’ll be on foot. We can’t take a chance of being spotted in the truck tonight. So you’d better put on your shoes, Ms. Gardner.” The grin broke out across his face again. “But don’t count on a salad in this part of town. You’re probably going to have to settle for a burger.”
A half hour later Lainie sat huddled with his raincoat pulled tightly around her. Her feet, stuffed into two-inch heels with no nylons, were neatly stashed under a plastic-covered booth in a dimly lit Mexican café.
She was trying to decide whether to order a taco salad or a plate of enchiladas. She’d already gulped down a tall glass of sweetened iced tea and was just about to polish off an entire basketful of tortilla chips.
“I thought you wanted a salad?” Sloan grumbled from his spot across the table. “We walked two extra blocks out of our way to find this place. Just order the salad and be done with it.”
He’d already placed his order with the waitress. Now, looking rather impatient, he waited for her to make a decision.
Lainie dipped the last chip into the tomato salsa and ordered the enchiladas. Since Captain Johnson returned their call to say that Suzy was still in the hospital but in good condition, Lainie’s appetite had returned with a vengeance.
Sloan relaxed back against the faded-brown bench and flipped his hat onto the seat next to him. The dim lighting in the restaurant didn’t afford much of a view, but she could manage to see that his hair was the same color as his eyes. A warm brown with golden highlights, it was neatly cut, but one stray strand hung down across his forehead.
He brushed back the wayward hair, and Lainie cautioned herself not to sigh aloud. She wondered whether it would feel as soft and silky as the mink coat it resembled. She managed to blink away the questions.
“We’ve got ourselves a problem here,” Sloan drawled.
Lainie wondered if he realized exactly how big a problem it was for her every time he smiled, and she found herself yearning to place a kiss on the dimple in his chin.
“You mean something other than dodging bullets from the sniper’s gun?” she asked, instead of saying what she thought.
“You’ve got a smart mouth, you know that?” He grinned and took a swig from the long-neck beer bottle that the waitress had just put in front of him.
“Well, excuse me, but I’m not exactly feeling too polite at the moment. I’m tired and irritable. My sister is in the hospital because of me. And I’m sitting here in a heavy raincoat that’s so big it’s falling off my shoulders, wondering whether this may be my last meal.” Her eyes glittered with sparkling green anger.
Sloan thought she was really something special. What other woman would react to being shot at by becoming mad and irritable? He knew most of them would’ve dissolved into a quivering mass of nervous hysterics by now.
But he wasn’t about to mention his admiration to Lainie. “Things could be worse,” he mumbled.
“Oh, really?”
He looked past her to the picture of a bullfighter on the wall. “At least you have people who are worried about you and who would care if you lived or died.”
She opened her mouth to make a remark, but the waitress brought the food just then. Before the plates could be arranged on the table in front of them, they both dug in without another word.
It wasn’t long until Sloan polished off the last flour tortilla and signaled the waitress to bring another beer. “You’re not going to be able to go back home for a while, you know.”
Her eyes widened and she swallowed her last bite of food with a cough. “What? Why not?”
“It won’t be possible to provide you with adequate protection if you just go blithely back to your old routine. After you give your statement to the police detectives, you and I will have to disappear.” He watched as she picked up her fork and squeezed her fingers in a death grip around the handle. “This might be a good time to consider a mini vacation. Someplace where no one will recognize your face.”
“I have to work. With my sister in the hospital, someone needs to do the columns. I have contracts to fulfill and people who are desperate for my advice.”
“Your sister writes the columns?”
“I give the advice, she makes sure it appears in the column the way I intended.”
“I heard somewhere that columnists usually have a couple of weeks worth of columns stashed away for emergencies. What if you were taken ill or had to take some time off for other personal reasons?”
She slid down on the booth’s bench. “I do have a few backup columns. But still, without Suzy I will have to make sure they get turned in and are set the way we expect them to be.”
“Could you give someone else instructions on where to find your files and then check to make sure it’s done properly by using a computer and the Internet?”
She grimaced, heaving a sigh. “I suppose. But…”
“Great. One problem solved,” he interrupted. “We’ll have the captain rig up a laptop for us, and he can send a secretary to your office for your files.” He tipped his beer for a fast sip before he quickly plowed ahead. “Now, the next problem is finding a place to hide out.”
“If this is a vacation, why don’t we just go to a five-star resort somewhere?” she asked as she munched on the tip of her iced tea straw. “I’ve been meaning to try that new place I’ve heard so much about on the Big Island in Hawaii. Why don’t we go there?”
He stopped the chuckle before it escaped his lips. “I don’t think Captain Johnson would be able to afford it, for one thing. And for another, we need to find a place where no one will recognize you, remember?” He was trying to keep the fear out of her eyes.
She ignored his question and honed in on the cost. “Why would Captain Johnson have to pay for it? I’ve got money. We can just put it on my credit card.”
Sloan shook his head and tried to keep the exasperated expression from his face. “Well, that might make some sense…if you had your wallet and credit cards with you. And if—”
“My purse! I forgot I dropped my purse when the shooting started.” The panicked look was back in her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’m sure the detectives have found it by now. And you can’t use the cards, anyway. Credit card charges are one of the easiest things to trace. From now on we’re strictly on a cash basis.”
Her eyes clouded over and he was fascinated by the muddy-river green color they had become. But she didn’t seem to have much else to say on the subject of how they paid for their getaway. He was grateful he’d remembered to bring along a few hundred in cash.
“One of my buddies in the Rangers has a cabin somewhere in the hill country,” Sloan mentioned, trying to sound casual. “He’s got it up for sale, but I don’t think he’d mind if we used it for a few days. What do you think?” He knew she must be feeling as if her world had tilted on its axis.
“I suppose so.” Lainie sounded so tentative that Sloan wanted to find a way to put the strength back in her voice.
“I’ll call him later and arrange it. Meanwhile…” Sloan hesitated, but in the end decided that even her anger had been better than this forlorn look. “Let’s go on back to our room and get some sleep.”
“Our room?” she yelped. “You think we’re both going to sleep in that tiny cubbyhole? Fat chance, buster.”
A flashdance of anger burned in her eyes, and Sloan breathed a silent sigh of relief that the spark was back. “Well, tell you what, sweetheart. If you don’t want to stay there, and since you don’t have any cash on you, I’ll be glad to give you the use of my truck for the night.
“The passenger seat reclines,” he continued as he covertly surveyed her reactions. “It shouldn’t be too uncomfortable for one night. But it might turn cold later on. Sure hope you don’t freeze.”
It was a thrill to see the bright pink flush of frustration spread across her features. She straightened her back and scowled.
So what if that look could burn a hole right through a steel door? At least her spirit was intact.
Her eyes narrowed to little slits when he didn’t make any other remarks and simply flagged the waitress to request the bill.
“All right,” she grumbled. “We can both stay in that little cave if you insist. But you’d better be praying that the bathtub is more comfortable than it looks, cause that’s where you’re headed. There’s no chance in the world that we’re both going to be sleeping in the same bed tonight.”
Three
“So what’s your plan for the night?” Lainie asked. They’d just locked themselves firmly inside the cheap motel room once again. “Where do you intend to sleep?”
Sloan sat down and stretched out companionably on the double bed, his body fully extended and his head propped up against the wall behind it. “The bed isn’t half-bad.” He patted the narrow spot next to him. “Try it out for yourself.”
The look on her face was priceless, Sloan mused. He loved it when he got to her, and he wondered why that was.
Since she continued to stand there, staring down at the ugly bedspread as if it were a rattler pit, he decided to try a different tack. “Look. It’s early yet. Why don’t you sit and tell me about your job? Maybe together we can come up with a reason why someone wants to kill you.” He pushed the lone pillow up against the wall for her.
When she tentatively checked to make sure the top button of his raincoat was securely fastened at her neck before she sat on the bed, it was all Sloan could do to keep a straight face. But he refused to laugh. He was feeling unsure enough about his own motives, let alone hers.
She settled in as far away from him as physically possible. “Maybe you’re right. I’m still too tense to sleep, anyway.”
He allowed himself a half smile, while she took off her shoes and daintily dropped them on the floor.
“Okay.” She wiggled her bottom down into the mattress until she’d apparently nestled herself into a more comfortable position. “That’s better. What do you want to know?”
“Well,” he began as he toed his boots off, “I thought maybe you’d just start talking. You know, tell me about how a normal day goes, what kind of letters you receive, that sort of thing.” He reached over, wanting to flick a tiny, lingering crumb off her chin, but quickly caught himself.
“Oh, but that’s so boring,” she sighed. “Are you sure hearing about that stuff might help?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “You never know. What else have we got to do?”
The minute he said it, the visions of what else he’d like to be doing in this bed blindsided him. But if Lainie noticed the change, she didn’t mention it.
“My day always starts at six-thirty. Suzy and I jog every morning. It gets the blood moving.”
“Your sister lives with you?” He eased his body around slightly and tried to concentrate on her words, but shifting his focus didn’t do much to change the tension.
She looked startled for a second. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t know about my family.”
“Captain Johnson just told me that you were a single woman and that your mother was a longtime, dear friend of his. I assumed you either lived alone or with your mother.”
Lainie smiled then and folded her hands in her lap. “I sort of do both…live alone and also live with my family, that is. A few years back, I bought a big house in a fancy Houston suburb. It’s an old place and has a good-size guest house right on the grounds. I bought it with the idea in mind of letting my sister and her husband use the guest house.”
She frowned at a large crack in the wall directly in front of the bed. “But when it came time for us to move in, I realized that the two of them would be much more comfortable in the bigger place. So…”
“You moved into the guest house,” he said with a yawn.
“Yes, but it wasn’t a hardship. The smaller house is so cozy. It’s just perfect for my needs. And Jeff, he’s my brother-in-law, loves to entertain and have big parties. Someday, the two of them might have a bunch of kids, too, and the living arrangements have all worked out for the best. Without family nearby, a person is no one.”
“But you own both houses?”
“Sure. In fact, a year or so ago I bought a neighboring house when the old woman who lived there passed away. It was a good thing, too. My father had a stroke a few months later, so I insisted that he and Mom move in next door so I could keep an eye on them.” She inclined her head. “I suppose you could say we live in a family compound.”
Sloan could not imagine anything worse. The thought of having people—meddling family members especially—underfoot all the time gave him the creeps.
