Safe with a Stranger. Linda Conrad

Safe with a Stranger - Linda  Conrad


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he turned to answer her, the sight he beheld left him flabbergasted and holding his breath. There, through the low light and in the passenger seat of his old beat-up pickup, sat the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen holding a sleeping angel in her lap. Was it just a trick of lighting that made her suddenly look like a Madonna? Her skin was exquisite, like fine china. Every strand of her hair lay in silky perfection. Her nose wasn’t too small or too large, but just right. And her long lashes lay against high cheekbones as she gazed down at the babe in her arms.

      Josh swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

      The mother and child made such a compelling picture that Josh wished he knew how to draw. He’d never been an artist, and he wasn’t sure that even a Michelangelo could manage to capture the perfect essence of this mother and child.

      His heart ached for all the pictures like this one that he would miss seeing in his lifetime. The pictures of a loving spouse and child that he would never have—and that his brother and sister would miss having in their lives, as well. Those thoughts sobered him, left him melancholy and finally made him angry. Exactly the way he’d spent the last fifteen years of his life. Mad as hell with no way to let it loose and no one to take it out on.

      But Josh wasn’t the kind to dwell on his troubles for very long. He was much more an action kind of guy. Kick butts, take names and take charge. It was the way he’d operated for most of his life. So, burying his personal problems like always, he decided to focus on Clare’s troubles instead.

      “We need to talk.” He swiveled to a position in his seat where he could watch her face as he questioned her. “I want answers about what the hell is going on. And don’t give me any of that bull about not knowing those two sleazy dudes or why they were after you. I’ve been shot at, sucker punched and chased tonight, and I want to know why.”

      

      Clare didn’t know what to do or say to answer his questions. She didn’t know who to rely on. Was Josh someone to trust? Did she dare?

      She kept perfectly still and stared at the man who was for all purposes a complete stranger. But as the flickering light from one of the parking-lot lamps filtered through the windshield and seemed to water down the edges of his face with soft gray tones and shadows, her insides softened toward him, too.

      The look in his eyes as he glared at her wasn’t stony or cynical or in any way threatening, despite his rough words. No, Josh’s facial expression seemed to reach out to her with unspoken compassion. And with something—warmer, more focused—underlying that. Clare didn’t want to think too much about the underlying heat. By now her own body was suffering from a wave of warmth just staring at his remarkably deep-set eyes and intense chocolate-colored gaze.

      He was easy to look at. And hot! Six-two or-three, she’d have to guess. All of that was lean, hard-packed muscle. Not the kind of muscle you saw in the gym, but the real sinew and form of an outdoorsman who didn’t hesitate to use his body. He was wearing camo pants and a tight-fitting black T-shirt. Old cowboy boots and a Stetson completed the picture. And what a picture it was, too.

      She drew in a shaky breath and her supposedly quick brain finally kicked into gear as she remembered that without his help, Jimmy would have been lost. And she would be hopeless. Even not knowing a thing about her, Josh had given her the sweetest gift in the world.

      She swallowed carefully, deciding that she needed someone’s help and it might as well be his. “It’s a long story.”

      “I’ve got all night. I don’t have to be anywhere until the day after tomorrow.”

      “Oh.” The way he’d said that, with a murmur of sorrow in his voice, made her curious to know where he was headed. But she figured she owed him the first explanations.

      She shifted Jimmy in her arms and rolled her window down halfway for some air. “Okay,” she began, wondering how she could put all her embarrassment and terror into words. “But this has to be off the record.”

      “Wait a sec,” he interrupted. “Stay put and hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

      “Wha…” Before she could get a word out, he’d ripped the keys from the ignition, unbuckled and stepped out of the truck into the humidity and heat of an East Texas night.

      “Keep the doors locked and an eye out,” he told her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. You two should be fine.”

      He slammed the door, locked it behind him and stalked off toward the discount store, leaving her with her mouth open and her head shaking. What was with this guy?

      True to his word, and before she had a chance to rethink her tenuous position and climb out of his truck and disappear, Josh was already headed back in her direction. And he was carrying an enormous box with him.

      “What in blazes…”

      “It’s a car seat for a two-year-old,” he said after he opened the door. “Sorry I took so long but I had to get a complete briefing on its installation. Can you put the kid down there on the front seat without waking him up and get out a minute? I’ll give you the short course as we tuck it into the backseat.”

      “What backseat?”

      Josh slanted a grin in her direction. It was the first one she’d seen from him and it made her heart stutter with lust and longing. Wow. That was fast work. She didn’t even know where she and Jimmy would be in the next hour, yet here she was, thinking about a near stranger in terms of a heated grin. Damn it. She was a mother, for heaven’s sake.

      Lightly slipping out of the front seat and easing Jimmy down, Clare tried to get herself back together. This was serious business. Jimmy’s whole future was riding on her doing everything right.

      “Lucille has a backseat,” he told her as he pulled a folding knife from his pocket and set to work opening the box. “Maybe it’s more of a bench than a real seat, but this child-size car seat will fit just fine.”

      “Lucille? Your truck has a name?” She’d never met anyone who’d named their vehicle. It seemed a little eccentric for such a take-charge guy.

      “Yeah. I saved to buy her before I signed up for the army, and then afterward made a few modifications in my spare time. I had a buddy who took care of her for me while I was out of country. She may not be a lot to look at, but she still runs good enough to keep us both out of trouble.”

      He and his truck had saved her and Jimmy from a world of trouble. She decided it was worth the effort to become real close friends with Lucille. And to give the man who owned her a break.

      Clare and Josh finished installing the child safety seat and then she gently laid Jimmy down into it and buckled him in without waking him up. Grateful not to have awoken the baby, the two adults climbed back into the front and gingerly closed their doors.

      “Thanks,” she whispered. “But you didn’t have to spend so much on us. We’ll be back out of your way just as soon as I can figure out what to do.”

      “The kid was beginning to look a little heavy in your arms. I thought maybe you both needed a break and some space. You could always use that same seat in an airplane or a rental car if need be.” He handed her one of the water bottles he’d brought back with the car seat.

      The bottle was cold and dripping sweat and she was thrilled to be able to quench her thirst. “Thanks. But I’ll pay you back for the seat.” She swallowed a slug of the water and immediately felt better. “This is wonderful.”

      Clare thought once again about all that Josh had done for them. She was still rather hesitant to trust a person whom she’d just met for the first time a few hours ago—especially a man who made her itchy and prickly by simply looking in her direction. After all, she’d recently escaped from one gigantic mistake made solely on lust, and she didn’t dare dive off that cliff blindly into another one.

      But at the moment, there wasn’t time for careful consideration. Ramzi’s men, or whoever those goons had been, might catch up to them


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