Her Baby's Bodyguard. Ingrid Weaver
to walk from here to the Black Sea.”
“She didn’t seem to like you much, Jack. Guess that legendary bedside manner of yours must be slipping.”
“You’re still too young to understand women, son. If you were old enough to shave, you’d realize she was scared.”
Tyler lifted his night-vision goggles so he could slide Jack a look. “She’s got reason to be scared of you, doc. I’ve seen your handiwork, and I wouldn’t want you anywhere near me with a med kit.”
Jack let the comment pass, mostly because he agreed. He glanced back at Eva and saw that she was still sitting quietly. He’d cleaned and dressed the wound as well as he’d been able to in a moving vehicle. There wasn’t anything more he could do to make her comfortable, and he doubted whether she’d let him anyway.
During his years in the service he’d seen far worse injuries than hers. He hadn’t balked at doing whatever was needed to save his patient. The other men knew that nothing fazed him, yet the sight of Eva’s wound had turned his stomach. It had seemed so…wrong.
The kind of violence he was accustomed to didn’t belong in her world. She was too delicate, too feminine to be treated like the hardened soldiers he usually dealt with. She should be on a bed, not on a battlefield. Her skin had gleamed like satin in the glare from the flashlight. It had felt like satin, too. He’d smelled the blood immediately, but he’d also gotten a whiff of some kind of flowery perfume and the sweet musk of a female. Even while he’d done his best to focus on the gash the bullet had left, he couldn’t help being aware of how close his hand had been to the curve of her breast.
Oh, yeah. A very ripe, full breast that strained the confines of her bra. And noticing it was, considering the circumstances, totally unprofessional and bordering on sick. He shouldn’t even be thinking of her as a woman.
To the international diplomats, Eva Petrova would be considered the latest pawn in their ongoing game of one-upmanship. To his government, she would be viewed as a valuable asset and to the Russians she probably would be viewed as a traitor. Her fate, once the team got her out of here, would be anyone’s guess. But until then, she was in Jack’s charge. He should have found a way to keep her safe. He probably should have followed his instincts and pulled her into his arms before the shooting had started. To protect her, that is. Apart from administering first aid, that was the only reason he could justify touching her.
As much as he admired Eva’s courage, he couldn’t afford to let his personal feelings distract him from his duty. They were still a long way from safety. For everyone’s sake, the mission had to remain his first priority. He would need to be prepared to do whatever was required of him to ensure its success.
Scowling, Jack returned his attention to the storm.
“You realize that once the people at the research complex notice one of their scientists is missing, the patrol we ran into is going to figure out we must have her,” Tyler said. He had replaced his goggles and was sighting through the rear of the truck again. “And considering how loud that kid wailed, there’s a possibility they’ll know we have her baby, too.”
Jack sat back on his haunches. “Yeah. They’ll probably catch hell for letting us go.”
“Plus they’ll know what kind of vehicle we’re driving and what direction we went.”
“Not good.”
“Nope.
“Eva said we’d have twenty-four hours.”
“Better hope our lady’s right. The way this storm is shaping up, we won’t be getting an evac anytime soon.”
Chapter 3
Eva had to lean against the door of the hut to close it against the force of the wind. In spite of the snow that puffed through cracks in the stone walls and the tin roof, she sensed an immediate improvement in the temperature. She carried Katya to the low-backed wooden bench that was near the hearth, grateful for the fire the men had managed to build. Though low-ceilinged and crude, this building would provide better shelter for the night than the canvas-roofed truck. The baby had awakened fully shortly after they’d stopped moving, and she was sounding more insistent by the second. Her wails had escalated to the point where they were drowning out the noise of the storm.
Eva winced, though not because of the racket Katya was making. As far as she was concerned, nothing her child could do would ever bother her. The wince wasn’t due to her injury, either. Thanks to some kind of numbing salve that Sergeant Norton had applied, the pain from the bullet wound had subsided to a dull ache. The binding he’d wrapped around her midriff was keeping the edges of torn skin from rubbing against her clothes with each movement. Her current discomfort was from another source entirely.
She sat on the bench and shifted Katya to her lap, then positioned herself so that her back was toward the doorway. For the moment they were alone, since the men were outside gathering more firewood or exploring what they had referred to as the perimeter. Yet even without privacy, Eva wouldn’t have been able to delay any longer. She parted the front of her coat, lifted her sweater and undid her blouse. As if sensing that help was within reach, Katya’s fussing grew frantic. The moment Eva bared her nipple, the baby latched on with a vengeance.
“I’m sorry, kitten,” Eva whispered, using her forefinger to press her swollen breast away from her daughter’s nose. “I know you were hungry. I was in a hurry, too.”
Katya gave her a look of reproach and curled one tiny fist over the edge of Eva’s nursing bra. Her cheeks worked in and out as if it had been days since she’d last been fed rather than hours.
Eva sighed in relief as the pressure in her breast began to ease. They had been fleeing for their lives, shot at by Burian’s guards and were now trapped by a storm in somebody’s abandoned hut, yet all that mattered to this child was being warm and having a full stomach. Life was so simple for her. Was there anything more beautiful, more trusting, more perfectly innocent than a nursing baby?
Eva’s eyes blurred yet again. How many times had that happened tonight? The tears had been close to the surface from the moment she’d left the complex. After years of taking pride in her intellect, lately she had been deluged with emotions. She understood why. It was because of Katya and the physiological changes of being a mother. Even if she never opened another book, never worked out another equation or published another paper, she could never regret this little miracle. “You’re such a brave girl, sweetheart. We’ll get there soon.”
Unfortunately, Eva didn’t have any idea where there would be, other than possibly a place with apple trees. All she’d focused on was getting away from where she’d been. That was as far ahead as she’d been able to plan. It wasn’t like her. For the past ten years, every step of her life had been mapped out beforehand. She made lists. She stuck to schedules. She thrived on routine and predictability. Now she didn’t even know where she was.
While Katya continued to nurse with gusto, Eva looked around the room. The fire was warming the air, driving away the mustiness and the smell of disuse. This building appeared to have been abandoned far more recently than the ones in the village nearest to the complex. The glass in the windows was still intact, and there had been some oil left in the lamp that burned on the wooden table. On the opposite side of the room from the hearth there were two low platforms that had likely held mattresses. The owners had left most of their furniture, as if they had hoped to return.
Or as if they hadn’t had the chance to take more than the essentials when they’d been forced to flee.
Could the influence of the complex have extended this far? Eva hoped not. But as she’d recently discovered, she’d been ignorant of many facets of the place’s true operation. How could she have been such an idiot?
The answer was obvious. She had only herself to blame for her ignorance. She’d seen what she’d wanted to see and had rationalized away the rest. When Burian Ryazan had offered her the position on his research team, his timing couldn’t have been better. She’d been feeling