Secret Surrogate. Delores Fossen
me,” Lucas whispered. Without making a sound, he eased forward and positioned himself in front of her, using his body as a shield to protect her.
Kylie quietly laid down the branch and checked to make sure he wasn’t injured. Even with the full hunter’s moon, she couldn’t see much. Well, not much except the stalwart, determined expression on Lucas’s face.
Lucas didn’t take his vigilant gaze off their surroundings. He reached over, the fingertips of his left hand skimming over her stomach.
The baby kicked.
Right on the spot where Lucas was touching her.
If Lucas had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he readjusted her robe. Putting it back in place. Most likely so that she’d stay warm. In all the chaos, she hadn’t realized that the only thing between her stomach and the cold night air was a thin white cotton gown.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
She hadn’t been injured in the fall, but every muscle in her body was already aching and stiff from the fight and the adrenaline. Then, there was the chloroform or whatever had been on that cloth. It might be hours, or days, before she knew what effect that would have on her. And the baby. Especially the baby.
“I’m okay.”
And she prayed that was true.
Her reassurance didn’t do a thing to ease his vigilance. He kept his Glock aimed and ready. And she knew for a fact that he had a lethal aim. She only hoped that it was enough to get them out of this alive.
Kylie pulled in her breath and waited. She listened carefully, but all she could hear was the wind rattling through the towering oak trees. Reality quickly began to sink in. Yes, Lucas was there, and he was armed. And he was good. But sometimes good just wasn’t good enough.
Frowning, scowling really, Lucas brushed his knuckles over her lips. Barely a touch. Kylie flinched at the contact. However, she welcomed it in a weird, surreal sort of way. Human contact, even if it happened to be from Lucas, felt pretty comforting.
“You’re humming,” he whispered. “Out loud.”
Kylie stopped, considered that. “Am I?” she whispered back.
A crisp nod. “‘Jingle Bells.’”
No surprise there. Humming perky, out-of-season tunes was her way of dealing with stress. And right now, she was dealing with a lot of stress.
“Sorry,” she offered, and she clamped her teeth over her lip to make sure it didn’t happen again.
But her stress level soared when she heard someone moving through the woods.
Her heart began to pound even harder than before. She forced herself to breathe normally so that she wouldn’t hyperventilate.
Beside her, Lucas didn’t react, didn’t move a muscle. Definitely no threat of hyperventilation for him. Everything in him seemed to still, like a jungle cat waiting to move in for the kill.
The sounds continued. They were closer now. Definitely footsteps. Despite the roar in her ears, she could measure the pace of whoever was walking. Slow, methodical steps. Not from the side, but from behind them.
God, from behind them.
They were about to be ambushed.
Lucas whipped around and fired a shot. “I’m Sheriff Lucas Creed,” he called out, his voice even more of a warning than the bullet he’d just fired. “I know your partner’s injured because he’s got my knife in his leg. My advice? Surrender. He needs medical attention now.”
The footsteps stopped.
And the silence returned.
Long, agonizing moments.
She waited. Trying to stay conscious and to still her body as Lucas had done his. Of course, the baby chose that moment to kick like an NFL punter. Kylie slid her hand over her stomach and rubbed gently.
Lucas’s gaze came to hers. He didn’t speak, but his left eyebrow slid up. It was a question. Are you truly okay? That unsaid question touched her.
Until she made the connection.
His concern wasn’t for her per se. This was some kind of transference because of his own impending fatherhood. Of course, he had no way of knowing that the kicking baby was his baby.
She’d done everything within her power to keep it a secret. And she would continue to do that. Not just through the pregnancy and delivery, but forever.
The thought of that broke her heart. She could never let this child know that she was his or her mother.
Never.
Sometimes, like now, that seemed too high a price to pay, but then she’d created a huge debt because of that fatal shooting three years ago. And she’d made that promise to Marissa. This was the one way she could repay Marissa and Lucas. Her heart would be broken, but his would finally be healed.
“They’re gone,” she heard Lucas say.
Kylie listened and heard the sound of a vehicle on the lake road. Driving away.
Or better yet—getting away.
“You have to go after them,” she whispered frantically.
But just saying those few words robbed her of what little energy she had left.
“No,” Lucas answered. “I can’t leave you. Not without backup.”
Part of her greatly appreciated that. Especially since she was unarmed, barely conscious and a couple of steps past being defenseless. But another part of her, the former cop part, knew that without suspects in custody, she might never learn why they’d come after. The two ski-mask-wearing men might simply disappear.
Which would create a real nightmare for her.
She’d always be wondering, worrying when, where and if they’d strike again. What little peace of mind she had would be a thing of the past.
With that realization, Kylie gave up the fight.
Because she had no choice, she leaned her head against the tree, and the murkiness and the winter night closed in around her.
Chapter Four
“This isn’t necessary,” Kylie grumbled. Again.
Lucas ignored her. Again.
Balancing the cell phone that he had sandwiched between his shoulder and his ear, he gently deposited Kylie onto the paper-covered examining table. She was still groggy, but not so groggy that it prevented her from insisting that she could have walked into the clinic on her own.
Yeah, right.
She was wearing only those flimsy socks. And the temperature had been below freezing. The ground had been hard and slick with frost. Still, if Lucas hadn’t been concerned that she might fall flat on her face, he would have given in to her protests and let her test her theory concerning her walking capabilities. But a fall might have injured her baby. Or even her. Despite how he felt about Kylie, Lucas hadn’t been about to risk that.
“You can wait out there, Lucas,” Dr. Finn McGrath insisted. And to clarify what he meant by out there, Finn hitched his thumb in the direction of the empty reception area just outside the examining room.
“She’ll be okay, right?” Lucas asked.
That earned him a flat look from Finn, a man he’d known all his thirty-one years of life. His best friend.
“I know, I know. Your psychic skills are a little rusty,” Lucas jested.
“But you’re in luck,” Finn replied. “I’m not too rusty in the medical department.”
Lucas appreciated his friend’s attempt to settle him down, but the