òåáå ñëèøêîì ìíîãî êðàñíîãî ïåðöà, À ìíå áû õîòåëîñü ïîáîëüøå ñîëè. È ìûñëåé, è ÷óâñòâ îò ÷èñòîãî ñåðäöà, ×òî íå âðåçàþòñÿ â ìîçã äî áîëè… Â òåáå î÷åíü ìàëî ðàäóãè, ñâåòà. Òû òàê âûñîêî âîçíåññÿ íàä íåáîì! ß áîëüøå íå æäó òâîåãî îòâåòà, Êîðìëåííàÿ òîëüêî íàñóùíûì õëåáîì… Òû ïðèíÿë çà ëîæü ìîå îòêðîâåíèå, À ÷óâñòâà ñâîè â äðóãèõ ðàñòåðÿë. Íî òû

Guarding Camille

Guarding Camille Judy Christenberry From Megan Maitland’s Diary Dear Diary, I’ve experienced many joys in the past few months, but none could compare with having my baby back home. Oh, Jake’s a man now, but he’s my youngest, and to me, he’ll always be the baby. I’ve really missed him. Of course, he’s come back on some kind of mission, but I’m going to do my best to convince him to stay. And this time, I wouldn’t mind if his “case” stays around, too! Being around Camille Eckart and her infant son, Jamie, seems to have changed my loner son. And I, for one, am very glad to see it. Who knows, with the rash of weddings lately, maybe Jake will be inspired. Families provide an anchor—one that would keep my son home for good. And with luck, I’ll see a few more grandchildren before long…. Guarding Camille Judy Christenberry www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) Judy Christenberry has been writing romances for fifteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers do. In fact, Judy recently quit her job teaching French just so she could devote her time to writing. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favorite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy is a transplanted Texan, who now lives near Phoenix, Arizona. For Christina and Josh Willi, my daughter and son-in-law, for their patience and support, and for Brenda Chin, my editor, who always gives me a challenge and hangs around to help me meet it. Contents CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN EPILOGUE CHAPTER ONE DAMN THE WOMAN. Jake Maitland regretted that thought immediately. It wasn’t Camille’s fault. She and the baby were the innocent ones in the chaotic events of the past six months. He rubbed the back of his neck, but his gaze remained fixed on the woman who had become the center of his universe. “Jake? Is that you?” she called softly, leaning forward in the rocking chair. He stepped into the doorway so she could see him, knowing she would have covered her breast where her baby was nursing. “Yeah, it’s me. I was just checking on you.” “I’m sorry if he woke you. I’m afraid it will be a while before he sleeps all night.” Her soft voice matched her appearance. When Jake watched her, he always thought of the Madonna and child. Her beauty was enhanced by the sense of serenity that exuded from her. He would never have believed the wife of a gangster could make him have such thoughts…ex-wife, he reminded himself. “I was awake,” he muttered, and drew closer. She laughed quietly. “Too bad you can’t feed him, then. I could use the sleep.” He held up his hands as if warding off evil. “I don’t know anything about babies.” “And your family runs a maternity hospital? Please!” she protested, laughing again. “I’m not part of the family business.” He moved past her to stare out at the darkness. No, he wasn’t a part of Maitland Maternity Clinic. Hell! Until he’d come back with Camille, he’d barely seen his family in the last few years. Yet when he’d needed a safe place to hide Camille, coming back to Austin—his home—had been his immediate gut response. “Do you see anything?” she whispered. He looked over his shoulder at the peaceful scene behind him rather than into the darkness. Mother and child. “No, nothing.” “Good,” she said with a sigh. He could tell she was rearranging her clothing. Then she lifted the baby to her shoulder and gently patted his back until a loud burp broke the silence. “Talented kid.” He offered the words with a grin, moving to Camille’s side. “Yes, he is.” She started to rise, but Jake held out his arms. “I’ll put him in bed. You go on and get some rest.” “You said you didn’t know anything about babies.” “I don’t. But how come you’re so experienced? This is your first baby.” “One of my friends had a baby a couple of years ago. I helped her out a lot.” “Well, I know enough to put this little guy in bed okay. I lay him on his back, right?” He’d heard that somewhere. “That’s right. Thank you.” “You need any help?” he asked as he headed toward the connecting door. After all, she’d only given birth a couple of weeks ago. Again she chuckled. “I had a baby, Jake. I didn’t break my leg. I’ll manage.” “All right. Good night, then.” He firmly closed the door behind him before he gave in to temptation and assisted her anyway. He’d faced the biggest challenge of his career since he’d met Camille. For the first time, he’d let his personal feelings interfere with his job. When he’d left Texas, determined to disassociate himself from his wealthy, socially prominent family and controlling father, he’d joined the FBI. His isolation only increased. The FBI didn’t encourage fraternizing with civilians. Jake had had no problem being alone. He’d hidden himself behind his badge. Women played an entertainment role occasionally, but never touched his emotions. Until Camille. Even so, he’d held himself aloof, distant. For six months, he’d pretended she was just another job, another assignment. He’d pretended. That was the problem. He laid the infant in the baby bed his mother, Megan, had provided. Then he stood staring at the sleeping baby in the pale glow of the night-light. Camille had chosen Jacob as his second name. She’d said the baby wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Jake. Well, hell, she was right about that. James Jacob Eckart. Not bad…except for the surname. This innocent baby’s father was a vicious gangster. Which was why Jake had figured he’d despise Camille. After all, she was married to the man. Well, had been married to him. By the time Jake had made contact with her, she was divorcing the scumbag. Only her husband objected. The baby squirmed in his sleep, and Jake gently rubbed his tiny tummy. “It’s okay, little guy. You’re safe.” He’d met Camille while he was working the case against her husband. Without a lot of success. He’d trailed Vincent Eckart one day and discovered Vince was trailing a beautiful blonde. Stalking, more like. When he figured out she was the man’s wife and was in the process of divorcing him, Jake had been ordered to make friends with her. Their friendship had gotten off to a rocky start. She hadn’t wanted any new friends, particularly men. Finally, he’d identified himself as FBI. She’d insisted on seeing proof. Then she’d cooperated, giving the FBI all the information she had. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much. As soon as she’d realized the kind of work her husband did was criminal, she’d left him. “Jake?” Camille whispered from the doorway. He spun around. “What? Is something wrong?” “No, but…you didn’t come out. I was afraid Jamie was giving you problems.” “No. I—I was just thinking.” She crossed to stand beside him, way too close for comfort. Her rounded feminine body was clad in a lightweight robe that her warmth easily penetrated as she brushed against him. He tried to control the shiver that was his unwanted response. Just hormones, he told himself. Leaning over, she ran one finger down her son’s soft cheek. “I’m grateful.” “For what?” “For the protection you’ve given me.” “I’m just doing my job.” His voice was brusque, clipped, and he was afraid he’d offended her. “And your friendship.” He wasn’t comfortable with this conversation. In spite of the attraction he felt, or maybe because of it, he’d worked hard to keep his distance. “I’ve been wanting to thank you for coming into the delivery room with me. I—I was scared.” He’d known that, and he’d broken his own rule. No personal involvement. And things had gotten very personal in the delivery room. He’d held her hand, caressed her brow, whispered encouragement. He’d held her son, then passed him to Camille’s waiting arms, trying hard to hide the tears that had filled his eyes. He cleared his throat now. Since then, he’d worked hard to maintain a cool distance. “Just doing my job,” he muttered again. Camille raised one delicate eyebrow. “The FBI provides surrogate fathers? Amazing. Do they advertise?” Her teasing sarcasm rocked him. He took a step back from the baby bed. “Camille,” he protested, his voice carrying a warning. “Why are you so afraid to be called a friend?” she asked. “Is it because of who I am? A gangster’s ex-wife? Is it because, through me, Vince has hurt other people?” “What he does isn’t your fault,” Jake assured her. She stood beside him, her head down, saying nothing. Just as he was ready to ease himself away from her, she spoke. “Will you promise me something, Jake?” “What?” he asked, his voice harsh as he feared what she might demand of him. “If—if something happens to me, would you make sure Vince doesn’t get Jamie? Would you ask your mother to find him a good home?” “Camille— Yeah, I promise.” He wanted to deny the possibility of her being hurt…killed. But he was too honest for that. “Thank you,” she murmured, and turned to leave the room. He breathed a sigh of relief that she’d taken herself out of his reach. Out of temptation’s way. It was just hormones, he reminded himself. She reached the door and paused. “By the way, should I send the FBI a thank-you note for your delivery room duties? I really am grateful.” He ground his teeth, trying to think of an answer, but she didn’t wait. The door closed quietly behind her. CAMILLE PULLED the sheet over herself in the darkness and tried to fall asleep. After all, with Jamie demanding to be fed every four hours, she needed the rest. But her thoughts remained fixed on the big man she’d left standing beside her son’s little bed. Jake Maitland. It wasn’t just that he was handsome, with a trim, muscular body, dark hair and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Bluebonnet eyes, she’d decided, after seeing the Texas state flower bloom this spring. No, it wasn’t his looks. After all, Vince was handsome, too. In a twisted sort of way. And it shouldn’t be the care Jake had given her, either, since, as he’d told her so often, it was his job. When the FBI had offered her protection, she’d asked for Jake. She’d come to trust him—not an easy thing after she’d found out how badly she’d misjudged Vince. Jake had tried to talk her out of choosing him. But she’d just discovered she was pregnant, and for the sake of her child, she wanted the best. And the best was Jake. In so many ways. When he’d identified himself to her as FBI, he’d suddenly become standoffish. The friendliness he’d feigned to gain her trust had disappeared. He’d let her see his skepticism when she told him she hadn’t known about her husband’s illegal activities. Fair enough. She didn’t blame him. She had trouble believing she’d been so gullible herself. But she’d been vulnerable, willing to reach out for warmth. Her parents had just died in an automobile accident, leaving her alone in the world. Most of her friends were married, and many had moved away from Washington, D.C., her home. Her job as librarian didn’t lend itself to making new friends. The other employees were older, set in their ways. Vince had come along when she longed for human contact. He’d teased her, laughed with her, encouraged her to rely on him. A month later, she married him, believing she’d found a new family. Instead, she’d found a nightmare. Vince wasn’t a considerate lover, but she wasn’t very experienced. She thought things would improve with time. But once the challenge of capturing her was gone, Vince changed. He didn’t bother with charm any longer. Instead he issued orders. The first time she failed to obey, daring to question him, he’d slapped her. Stunned, Camille had withdrawn. He’d turned on the charm again, teasing her into believing he’d had a bad day. It wouldn’t happen again. But he pointed out that he wouldn’t have had to slap her at all if she’d trusted him, as a wife should, and done as he’d told her. Several other events alerted her to something rotten in the woodpile. She began to put offhand comments together. The second time he struck her, she waited until the next day, when he’d left the house. Then she gathered her belongings and as much cash as she could find, got in her car and drove away. She should’ve known he wouldn’t let her go so easily. He’d tried sweet-talking her back to his house. No sale. He’d tried sex. Or, in Camille’s mind, rape. She threatened to kill him if he touched her again. And she bought a gun. He’d tried having a couple of his “employees” kidnap her, but she’d escaped and contacted the police. It was about that time that Jake came into her life. She hadn’t wanted to trust him. She hadn’t wanted to trust anyone. But she needed help. After offering the information she had, she’d asked for protection. At first, the FBI hadn’t thought her situation warranted any official protection. Then, when she told them she was pregnant, they’d warned her not to tell her ex-husband. But Vince found out, anyway. She wasn’t sure how. And he called her. He wanted the child, and he was willing to pay her a lot of money to come back to him. She’d hung up on him. For the next month, she was practically under siege. When the FBI finally offered her protection, after she’d thwarted yet another kidnapping attempt, she knew the man she wanted. Jake had been firm, patient and strong. He hadn’t flirted with her, as one agent had. He hadn’t been too familiar, either. A true professional, he’d only done his job. And that’s what he said he’d done the night Jamie was born. Holding her hand, stroking her cheek, encouraging her when the pain grew intense. He’d even called her sweetheart, but she was sure it had been unintentional. He’d done more than his duty. His duty could have been performed outside the delivery room, in the hallway. He knew Camille would have only the best of care at the hospital his family ran. His sister Abby was Camille’s obstetrician, and Jake had total trust in her. But he had felt the need to do more for Camille. He’d been her friend, her strength, her rock. And opened a Pandora’s box of hope. Because in Jake she’d found the man she wished she’d married. The man she wished was Jamie’s father. The man who wanted nothing to do with her on a personal level. She bit back a sob and tried to turn her thoughts to other matters. But since her world had shrunk to this remote cabin and Jake Maitland, controlling her interest in him had become impossible. A reluctant smile was the high point of her day. A spoken word, not a sentence—Jake seldom used sentences—could stir her senses for hours. His touch almost blew her away. Fortunately, or unfortunately some days, he’d kept his distance. Though there were only the two of them in this small cabin on his friend’s ranch, he’d managed to make her feel she was alone. Until she’d gone into labor. He’d rushed into the labor room with her, and from that point on had been the center of her universe. He’d smiled, gently teased, given her the words she’d needed…and touched her. “JAKE? It’s your mother,” Megan Maitland announced when she called the next morning. With a grin, Jake said, “I know, Mom.” She ignored his teasing. “We’re going to have a big family dinner tomorrow night. I know it’s only a few weeks before Connor and Janelle’s wedding, but I want to see all my family together again.” Jake frowned. Connor O’Hara, a Maitland cousin whose parents had been estranged from the family for years, had unexpectedly shown up last fall, much to Megan’s delight. Jake didn’t share his mother’s enthusiasm. Something about his new cousin made him tense, and his professional instincts told him that both Connor and his fianc?e, Janelle, were not quite what they seemed to be. They claimed to be the parents of the baby boy who had been abandoned at Maitland Maternity Clinic, but Jake had his doubts about that, too. “Well, Mom, I’m trying to keep Camille out of the limelight. And I don’t want to leave her alone.” “Of course not. I wouldn’t ask that of you, but we’ll have tight security at the house. Vincent Eckart would never be able to get inside. And you can bring that darling baby to the nursery. He’ll be safe.” Jake remained silent. Megan’s voice deepened when she said, “Jake, please. I’ve missed you all these years. I want you here, a part of our family. Don’t disappoint me.” Jake considered his mother’s words. He’d left Austin when he’d finished school and gone to the FBI, but he’d missed his mother. When he’d had to hide Camille six months ago, he’d told himself he was coming to Austin because it was the safest place. But after arriving and establishing contact with his family, he knew he’d come back because he needed to see his mother again. He didn’t want to disappoint her. And she was right about Camille being safe. It might even do the lady some good to see other people. Maybe it would even diffuse the sexual tension that was driving him crazy. “Okay, if you’ll do me a favor.” Time to kill two birds with one stone. “Of course, darling, anything,” Megan replied promptly. “Careful, Mom, you don’t know what I’ll ask.” “I’m not worried, son,” she replied, her words full of love and trust…two things he wasn’t sure he deserved. “How about inviting Harrison Smith to your family dinner.” “Why?” she asked after a brief hesitation. “He’s asking a lot of questions about our family and hanging around the diner. He might be a private eye. I know he claims to be checking out the clinic for his daughter, but that doesn’t take three months. I can’t get away from here to investigate him and I want to find out whose payroll he’s on.” “It would be rude to interrogate a guest.” Jake rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about a spotlight and a straight-backed chair, Mom. I’ll be subtle.” “All right, dear, but I’m sure he’ll wonder why he’s been invited.” “You’ll come up with something convincing, Mom.” “Okay, be here at seven tomorrow. Oh, and wear a suit.” After his mother hung up, Jake muttered, “Damn. A suit.” He’d hardly had to wear a suit in the past six months with Camille. He’d gotten quite used to jeans. “A suit?” Camille asked from the doorway, a small tremor in her voice. “Are we moving? Going public?” “Nope. My mother is the one demanding the suit. She’s even more persuasive than the FBI.” “Oh.” He watched her hazel eyes darken with concern. “What is it?” “I suppose Max will keep an eye on us here?” Max Jamison was a local private investigator who used to work on the Austin police force with Jake’s childhood friend, Michael Lord. When Jake had asked Michael who he could trust to help him out with Camille, Michael had suggested Max. Both Max and Michael, along with Michael’s brother, Garrett, had been working with Jake ever since. “Nope. Max’ll be at the house. And so will you.” Nothing Camille had gone through since Jake first met her had come even close to producing the slack-jawed, stunned expression that was on her face now. “I’ll be where?” she managed to ask. “You’ll be at my mother’s. We’re having a family dinner.” “I can’t do that. I’m not family.” She succeeded in wiping all emotion from her face, giving him a blank stare. Suddenly, several things fell into place for Jake. Camille had never attempted to contact anyone since she’d been in hiding, and she had told Jake that if anything happened to her, she wanted her baby adopted. “You don’t have any family, do you?” he said. He’d never asked her personal questions. It was his way of keeping his distance. He’d read her file, of course, so he knew her parents were dead, but he’d figured she must have relatives somewhere. Now he realized how very alone she must be. She blinked several times but maintained her stoic expression. “I can’t go to the dinner.” “I’m not leaving you here alone. We don’t know where Vince is, but we know he suspects you’re in the area. Do you want to take that chance?” Dirty pool, he knew, threatening her with her safety, but whatever worked. “No! But—but surely Max knows someone else who could keep an eye on me.” “Nope. You’re coming with me. The baby can stay in the nursery at Mom’s. There’ll be extra security. He’ll be perfectly safe.” “Why don’t you ever call him by his name? Do you dislike it?” Her change of subject blindsided him. “Uh, I—I haven’t gotten used to it.” The truth was, he’d thought keeping the baby anonymous, nameless, would wipe out the memory of his birth, the warmth that had filled Jake when both he and Camille had held her son for the first time. Damn it, this was his job. Nothing more. Camille interrupted his thoughts. “I named him after you and my father, two men I admire.” He opened his mouth to protest, and she held up her hand. “I know, I know, you’re just doing your job.” Then she smiled, a welcome change from the serious expression she usually wore. “Maybe Jamie will learn dedication to his work from you, if nothing else.” She turned away as if to leave the room. “Do you believe your parents’ death was accidental?” he asked abruptly. She stopped but kept her back to him. “Yes. A drunk driver crashed into them, killing them both instantly. The drunk walked away from the crash with bruises. But it happened over a year ago. I hadn’t even met Vince then.” Which, of course, explained Camille’s vulnerability to Vincent Eckart. She’d met him only a couple of months after her parents’ death. Jake wasn’t sure he believed their death was an unconnected accident. Vince Eckart was amoral and wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate anyone in his way. But saying that to Camille now would serve no purpose. “No relatives at all?” he asked, moving silently to take her by the shoulders and turn her around. He figured the shocked look on her face was caused by his touching her. He avoided physical contact even more than personal questions. “No relatives,” she said quietly, keeping her gaze focused on her feet. In an attempt to lighten the moment, he said, “Maybe I should loan you some of mine. They seem to be increasing at a rapid rate.” “What do you mean?” she asked. “Every one of my siblings has married or paired off in the past year. I told you about them all. Then there’s Connor O’Hara, my…cousin. And it’ll only be a matter of time before babies start making an appearance.” “Be grateful you have family, Jake,” she ordered, her voice firm. “They’re important.” “We’ll see if you still feel the same way tomorrow night.” “I will. But I won’t be going to the party.” “Yes, you will,” he told her, his voice firm. She had no choice. “No, I won’t.” “Why not?” he demanded, irritation filling him. What was wrong with her? Didn’t she think his family was good enough? That thought was laughable. The Maitlands were sought out by everyone. “Because I don’t have anything to wear.” CHAPTER TWO JAKE STARED AT HER. He’d expected fear, or something just as serious, to be the reason for her reluctance. But fashion? Suddenly he felt as if he’d been hibernating for the past six months. Camille had been wearing maternity clothes she’d purchased just before he’d brought her to Texas. She hadn’t had a lot, but never once had she complained. Since she’d had the baby, she’d continued to wear some of her maternity shirts. He’d noticed a pair of slacks that he supposed she’d worn before her pregnancy. But her wardrobe was definitely limited. “Why didn’t you say something?” he demanded, frowning fiercely. Her eyes rounded in surprise. “I haven’t had a great need for a cocktail dress, Jake.” “But you’ve needed other things, haven’t you? My sisters go shopping all the time. You haven’t had anything new in six months.” He should have thought of this before. “Jake, contrary to popular belief, a woman doesn’t have to shop every day to be happy. Besides, your sister Abby brought me a catalog when I was in the hospital and I ordered some nursing—some things. And one of the nurses helped me pick out what I’d need for the baby.” He shook his head. “I’m calling my sister Anna. She’ll get you a dress for tomorrow night. And I’ll get you some catalogs so you can order regular clothes.” The spark of interest in her eyes told him she liked his idea. The pleasure he derived from doing something for her alarmed him. It was just his job, after all. Then she frowned. “Can you access my bank account? I don’t have any money with me.” “I’ll take care of it. You can pay me back when all this is over.” A wistful look filled her eyes. “Will it ever be over? It’s crazy that I’ve been in hiding so long.” “Yeah, it’ll be over. We’ve got evidence against Vince now, thanks to some of the clues you gave us. And he’ll face charges from the hostage episode at the clinic day care in April. All we have to do is find him. He’s gone underground, but he won’t have the patience to stay there.” In fact, though Jake would never have agreed to use Camille as bait, that was exactly what was happening. Eckart was desperate to find his ex-wife and had trailed her to Texas. Jake was certain someone had passed on the information to Eckart and wondered if the leak had been instigated by his superiors in the FBI. “Are you sure?” He frowned, wondering if she’d read his mind. “Sure about what?” “I mean, will the government advance you money?” “Yeah.” The government…or his mother. How strange to have met a woman who was unaware of his family’s wealth. He’d vowed never to marry after he’d discovered his first love was coolly calculating his inheritance. Between that and his family’s social prominence, she’d intended to cut a large swath through Texas society. “Can you call Abby? I don’t know Anna and—” “Abby stays pretty busy with her practice.” “I know that.” She should, Jake thought, since Abby had delivered the baby—Jamie, he finally acknowledged. “Anna plans weddings. She’ll know where to get a dress quickly.” He reached for the phone, and as he’d expected, his sister immediately agreed to help. He handed the phone to Camille so she could discuss color and style. “Jake?” He whirled around to see what Camille needed. “Yeah?” “Anna wants to bring some dresses out here. Is that okay?” They were staying on Garrett Lord’s ranch in a cabin remotely situated from the main house. Jake didn’t want to risk Eckart following his sister out here in the hopes of finding Camille. He took the phone. “Anna, can’t we do this differently? Take a dress to Mom’s and Camille can change when we get there.” “But it might not fit, Jake. Since she just had a baby, she’s not sure of her size.” “She’s wearing pants she wore before the baby— I mean, before she was pregnant. So the same size should do.” Camille tugged on his sleeve. “Jake, I—” “Well, you are,” he told her, anxious for this conversation to be over. “Yes, but—on top I’m—I’m bigger.” Her cheeks were flushed, but Jake figured they were pale compared to his face. Damn, he didn’t want to think about her breasts. But it was all he could think about now. “Anna, bring the dresses to the main ranch house and we’ll meet you there.” He pressed the phone closer to his ear. “And don’t tell anyone what you’re doing.” “Of course not. But does Camille need anything else? I might as well pick up other things while I’m shopping for her.” Anna sounded amused, which irritated Jake all the more. He handed the phone to Camille with a gusty sigh. “Anna wants to know if you need anything else.” “Can we afford—” “Yes, whatever!” He didn’t want any more talk about Camille’s body or her wardrobe. Camille began a discussion with Anna, but a thin wail stopped her almost at once. “Oh, Jamie—” “I’ll get him. Finish up with Anna.” He fled the room. He’d much rather deal with a newborn baby than continue this conversation. The baby was kicking his legs and waving his arms, his face puckering as he yelled. Jake sighed. He was learning how insistent a newborn could be. The first thing to do was check his diaper. Jake knew that much. After changing him, Jake eased his big hand under the baby’s body and lifted him to his shoulder. “Now, listen, Jamie, Mom’s kind of busy, so you need to stop that yelling.” Much to Jake’s surprise, the baby quietened. For a minute. Then little whimpers began to build. Panic filled Jake. What was he supposed to do? He drew a deep breath, determined not to be bested by a seven-pound infant. Even if he was a cute one. He cradled Jamie in his arms, then tucked the baby’s small fist into his tiny mouth, hoping he could fool the baby into believing he was being fed. The sucking noises were a dead giveaway. The kid wanted to eat. Jake was proud of himself for correctly assessing the situation, but he knew he didn’t have the equipment for a successful resolution. Which, of course, brought his mind back to Camille’s breasts. Man, he needed some distance from his two captives! He left the nursery and returned to the living area, where Camille was on the phone. It didn’t take Jamie long to realize that his fist wasn’t providing satisfaction. Just as Jake came into the room, the baby let out another wail. “Oh, Anna,” Camille said when she saw him, “thank you so much, but I have to feed the baby now. Oh. Yes, of course.” She handed the phone to Jake. He transferred the baby to her arms, surprised by his reluctance to give up the warm bundle. Then he spoke to Anna. “So we get to meet the mystery woman now?” Anna asked softly. “Yeah, Mom insisted. But it’s important that no one talk about her, especially to that pest Chelsea. Too many people know about Camille already.” In the past year his family had been besieged by Chelsea Markum, a television reporter for a gossip show called Tattle Today TV. There was no way he wanted her to do a news item on Camille being guarded by the Maitlands’ youngest son. “You know we wouldn’t tell her anything,” Anna protested indignantly. “I know, Anna, but this is a matter of life and death.” He turned to stare at Camille, who’d begun nursing Jamie. Her eyes were shuttered, but her lips had tightened with fierce protectiveness. He regretted his words. But damn it, he’d only spoken the truth. Anna made her promises and then asked him to bring Camille to Garrett’s at four that afternoon. “You can take care of it by then?” “Good heavens, Jake, that’s six hours away. I’m not going to hand sew the clothes, just buy them.” “Yeah, okay.” When he’d hung up the phone, he turned to Camille. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” “I know.” “I’ll keep you safe.” “Yes.” She looked at her child, running her hand up and down his back in a soothing motion. Then, for the first time, she asked Jake about his care of her. “Jake, why did we come here alone? Why don’t you have a partner?” This was the question he’d dreaded. He sat beside her. “Because I think someone is leaking information to Vince.” “Someone with the FBI?” she asked, sounding shocked. “Maybe. You never told Vince you were pregnant, but he found out before you were even showing.” “Yes,” she said, frowning. “I wondered how, but—but I guessed that he’d tailed me to the doctor’s office.” “Maybe, but I was tailing you, and I didn’t see anyone else.” “You were? Why? I had already agreed to cooperate.” “I know, but we thought you might need a little protection.” “I had already asked for protection,” she protested indignantly, “and was denied!” “I know, but my partner and I figured we’d offer a little extra, just in case. Nothing official.” He didn’t look at her. He didn’t want her to know that her gentle beauty had already been tugging at his heart way back then. He could feel her gaze on him, but he kept staring at his hands clasped between his knees. “At least here I have people I can trust—my family, our friends the Lords.” “I hate the fact that I’m putting your entire family in danger!” Camille exclaimed. “Maybe I should just leave.” “You’re not going anywhere. And my family’s not in danger. Neither are you.” “But, Jake—” “Enough! You need to think about the baby—Jamie. We’ve got to keep Jamie safe.” Her arms tightened on her little son, causing him to whimper in protest. “Easy, there, you don’t want to squeeze the stuffing out of him,” Jake cautioned, grinning. “No, no, I don’t.” She looked at the baby, then at Jake. “I have to change sides. I’ll go to the bedroom.” He nodded, standing. As she left the room, he called, “Take a nap after you put Jamie back in his bed. You’ll need your strength to deal with Anna this afternoon.” Camille paused and stared at him. “She sounded very nice on the phone.” “Oh, she’s nice. But she’s a whirlwind. She’ll wear you out.” Camille gave him a faint smile and disappeared. Jake picked up the phone again. This time he called Max Jamison. “Max, Anna is bringing some things to the ranch house at four today. Could you tail her, make sure no one else is doing the same thing? And plan on staying until she leaves? Great. I’ll see you then.” While Max kept an eye on the ladies, Jake could drive into Austin and contact his boss from a pay phone. He suspected whoever was feeding Vince his information was keeping track of calls, too. Jake didn’t want to lead Vince to the ranch. Until the man was caught and placed behind bars, Jake couldn’t distance himself from Camille. Like a punch to the gut, the thought of Camille leaving, taking Jamie and disappearing from his life made Jake catch his breath. What was wrong with him? Of course she’d leave. Probably go back to Washington, D.C. Where he lived. When he’d left home, he’d sought power. His rounds with his father had left him feeling weak. He’d needed the discipline of the FBI, the authority…and the validation of being the good guy. Those early years, he’d felt he’d made the right decision. But he’d matured, and now he wasn’t so sure. He’d missed his family, his home, Texas. In particular, he’d missed his mother. While Megan Maitland was still young in spirit, still strong, she was getting older. When he’d brought Camille to Texas, he’d noticed the wrinkles at the corners of his mother’s eyes for the first time. And, for the first time, he’d thought about the future. About leaving the FBI. IN SPITE OF HERSELF, Camille began to grow excited about new clothes. She hated the maternity clothes she’d worn for so long. When she and Jake had disappeared in the middle of the night, she’d only been allowed one bag. Jake had promised that her parents’ house—now hers—and her belongings would be safe, but she had to travel light. Since her social life had been nil, dressing hadn’t been a problem. She’d worn the five outfits until she could no longer stand the sight of them. She’d also included in her suitcase a couple of pairs of slacks and blouses from her pre-pregnancy days, but the blouses still didn’t fit. She hadn’t complained. She figured her life and that of her child were more important than clothes. But she had to admit she’d be thrilled to have something new to wear. So why did she feel such disappointment when she realized Jake wasn’t going to stay with her while she acquired her new belongings? If she were honest, she knew the answer to that question. Over the past six months she had needed Jake to protect her physically, but she also had an emotional need for his approval. She worked hard to hide it. Jake wasn’t interested in any personal involvement, she knew, so she didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable. Still, she couldn’t help asking, “But where will you be?” “I’m going into Austin. Max will stay with you.” “Of course. I thought—of course, we’ll be fine.” And they would, she knew, or Jake wouldn’t go. But she’d been looking forward to having him see her in something new. She blushed at the thought. It was only too obvious that he wanted nothing to do with her outside of their professional relationship. But his kindness, his big body, his warm gaze, all had become as important to her as fresh air. Once her ex-husband was put behind bars and Jake opened the door and told her to leave, she’d be lost. She was in love with Jake Maitland. She finally admitted it to herself for the first time. What a foolish, foolish thing to happen. An FBI agent and a gangster’s ex-wife. When it was time to leave, Jake escorted her and Jamie out of the house to his SUV. He placed a hand on her back to steady her as she climbed into the car, and she shivered. Admitting her feelings about Jake to herself had made his touch so much more intense. Good thing he kept his distance. To distract herself, she thought about the last time she’d left the cabin, the night she’d given birth to Jamie. Throughout her pregnancy, Jake’s sister Abby had come to the ranch to examine her once a month, and then every week when she was closer to term. The plan had been for Camille to be admitted to Maitland Maternity under an alias once she’d reached her due date, but she’d gone into labor early, with intense contractions, and Abby had insisted Jake call an ambulance for Camille. Jake hadn’t wanted to risk revealing their hiding place at the cabin so he compromised by taking Camille to the main ranch house, where the paramedics arrived and whisked her to the hospital. She smiled at the memory. “What’s funny?” he asked, looking at her as he drove. “I was just thinking that even though I was at Garrett’s house the night I went into labor, I was too distracted to even notice what it looked like.” Jake shrugged. “It’s just a ranch house.” Knowing that was all she’d get from Jake, Camille asked, “What about your mother’s house? Where is it located?” “In Austin.” Well, that didn’t tell her much. “Will Garrett be at the dinner?” “Of course. He’s like family.” “He’s your cousin, isn’t he?” “He may as well be. He and his brother and two sisters were foundlings. Friends of my mother’s—the Lords—adopted them. We’ve considered them family ever since. Mitch, my brother, was six years older than me, so I played more with Garrett and Michael.” “It must be nice to have so much family,” she said wistfully. An only child, she’d always yearned for siblings. “Do you want more children?” he abruptly asked. Startled, she turned to stare at him. “I—I always wanted a big family, but—but without a husband—I mean, I wouldn’t consider—without—” She fell silent, embarrassed by her incoherence. But his question had brought an instant image of herself wrapped in Jake’s embrace, surrounded by several children. He appeared almost as embarrassed. “Forget it. None of my business.” “How far is it to Garrett’s house?” she asked, hoping the change of subject would help. “About another mile.” “Then why did we leave so early?” she asked. It was only a little after three. “I want us well in place before Anna gets there.” “Oh.” She never questioned Jake’s ability to protect her. After all, he’d kept her safe for six months. “I called the house. Garrett’s housekeeper is expecting us.” He stared straight ahead as he drove. “I’ve never met her,” she replied. He frowned. “We haven’t exactly been meeting and greeting. But she’s nice.” To her surprise, he reached over and smoothed his thumb across her forehead. “Quit worrying.” “I’m not worrying,” she hurriedly assured him. After all, she had confidence in him. But his touching her, even on the forehead, had her longing for more. “Yeah, right. That’s why you’re looking pretty fragile these days.” Fragile? She lifted her chin. “I’m stronger than I look.” “You convinced me of that in the delivery room,” he said with a shudder. “Thank God men don’t have to have children.” It was the first time he’d voluntarily mentioned Jamie’s birth. She closed her eyes as she remembered his arm around her, one hand holding hers, his strength pouring into her. “We’re here.” Jake’s announcement had her popping open her eyes. To her astonishment, in place of the cozy little ranch house she’d expected, her gaze fell on a large, two-story home. “My heavens, what is this, Tara?” she asked, thinking of the famous antebellum home in Gone With The Wind. Jake shot her a surprised look. “Nope. Just Garrett’s place.” Camille frowned as he got out and walked around to open her door. If Jake thought this house was normal, he must have been raised differently from her. Not that she was penniless. Her parents’ life insurance had left her with some reserves. And the government had promised to handle the sale of her parents’ house and put the money in her account when she was ready, according to Jake. But their house had been small, a Beaver Cleaver kind of house, not a mansion like this. “Want me to take the baby?” Jake offered as he opened the door. She nodded and eased the baby from his carseat and into Jake’s arms, the contact between them sending shivers through her again. But she liked the picture of Jamie in his arms. His hands were so large, Jamie fit perfectly. Jake stood back so Camille could slide to the ground. Then he handed the baby to her. When they knocked on the back door, an older woman invited them in. Jake introduced her as Mrs. Easley, and Camille thanked her for her hospitality. She offered them a cup of coffee and they sat down at the kitchen table. The woman immediately began to ooh and aah over Jamie, winning Camille’s approval at once. Almost an hour later, Camille had finished a glass of milk, while Jake drank his coffee. They’d obviously come too early and had run out of small talk. But Jake was even more impatient than she was. She and the housekeeper chatted quietly while she fed the baby again, and Jake wore out a path through the house, going to the front to watch for Anna’s car, then back to the kitchen to check on Camille. “Jake, please, you’re making me tired.” “I don’t know what could’ve happened,” he muttered, ignoring her complaint. “I tried calling, but she’s not answering her phone.” “Jake—” Camille began again. But the sound of a car stopped all of them. A van pulled into sight behind the house, and Jake opened the kitchen door, glowering. As a pretty woman slid from behind the wheel, Jake shouted, “Where the hell have you been?” CHAPTER THREE CAMILLE WATCHED the other woman, wondering how she would react. With hands on her hips, Anna grinned at Jake. “Hey, shopping is hard work. It took longer than I expected. Besides, it’s just past four.” Before Jake could respond to that, the other door to the van opened, and a second woman got out. “What the hell are you doing here, Shelby?” “Well, I feel welcome,” the woman drawled. Camille admired the women’s sangfroid. Obviously they didn’t bow to Jake’s orders. “This is supposed to be secret!” Jake practically shouted, frustration in his voice. “Then you shouldn’t be yelling,” Anna said calmly. “Come help us carry things in.” Camille watched from her seat at the kitchen table, Jamie in her arms, as the three of them trooped through the kitchen and up the stairs with the clothing. She was amazed at how easy the two women were with Jake’s anger. After several trips, Jake introduced them to her. “Camille, this is my sister Anna and our good friend Shelby Lord.” “Are you related to Garrett?” Camille asked. She noticed some similarity in Shelby to Garrett. A very feminine resemblance. Both women were attractive and fashionably dressed in tailored slacks and silk blouses, making Camille feel like the dowdy country cousin. “Yes, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he didn’t ask us out here before to keep you company,” Shelby replied with a smile. “Shelby, everything about Camille has to be kept secret,” Jake insisted. “You shouldn’t even be here.” “This is my brother’s place. I come and go all the time. No one will think anything of it,” she assured him. Camille turned to Jake. His gaze reminded her to be discreet. Then he looked at the other two women. “Just fix her up for tomorrow night, okay? No questions.” “Okay,” Anna agreed, smiling, but she sent a warning look Shelby’s way before leaning down to look at Jamie. “What a sweet baby! May I hold him?” “Yes, of course,” Camille responded, “though, since he just ate, he’ll probably go right back to sleep.” “We can only hope,” Jake muttered, and received a glare from Camille for his efforts. Anna smirked at her brother before saying to Camille, “We’ll take your baby and go upstairs so some people won’t bother us.” Her words didn’t seem to affect Jake. His attention was focused on the road. “What, or should I say who, are you looking for?” Anna asked. “Max. He’s going to stay here while I run into town.” Anna looked at her brother, a glimmer in her eye. “I’m sure you’re going to give him a piece of your mind for showing up so late.” Jake ignored his sister’s teasing. “There he is!” he exclaimed a moment later. As he headed for the door, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Camille.” She stared after him, missing him already, feeling a little unsure on her own. After all, he’d been with her almost constantly these past months. When she turned to find Anna and Shelby studying her curiously, she shrugged. “Shall we go upstairs? I don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary.” That wasn’t quite true, though. Female companionship, especially with these two charming women, was a welcome change. “Don’t be silly,” Anna said. “We’re delighted to meet Jake’s mystery woman.” “I’m just a job for Jake,” she hurriedly said, and followed the other two up the stairs. Camille knew they’d carried in a lot of clothes, but she was stunned by the amount. Anna had brought a selection of casual clothes besides the dressier items. A linen jumper with several different silk T-shirts to be worn underneath was her favorite item. “I love this.” “You have good taste,” Anna assured her. “It looks terrific on you.” Shelby laid out several pairs of walking shorts. “You must’ve been hot lately in the clothes you have. It was much colder when you arrived.” “Yes. I had no idea I’d be in hiding so long,” Camille confessed. “Have you been bored?” Anna asked. “I don’t think I could stand to be trapped in one place.” Camille thought back to the lonely days and nights. Jake hadn’t been much of a conversationalist, though toward the end of her pregnancy, he’d opened up a bit more. Then, when he’d gone into the delivery room with her, helping her through that difficult time, she’d thought they’d drawn closer. But she could sense he was pulling away again. “I read a lot. And we have a television and VCR. Jake got us movies to watch.” Though most of them she’d watched alone. “Well, tomorrow night you’ll get to socialize a little,” Anna said. “Which brings us to what you’ll wear at Mom’s. Shall I show you my favorite?” Camille nodded, and Anna unzipped a garment bag and pulled out a cocktail dress in pale leaf green. Its empire style relieved Camille’s concern about her waistline, which hadn’t quite shrunk to its pre-pregnancy trimness, and the frothy chiffon skirt gave the dress a certain grace and elegance. Camille gasped. “How beautiful!” “It will be perfect on you,” Anna assured her. Camille picked up the dress and gasped again. “But—but it’s a designer dress!” “Don’t you like it? It’s beautifully simple, such great lines,” Anna enthused. “Yes, it’s wonderful…but expensive,” Camille said, frowning. “Oh, don’t worry. After I talked to you and Jake, Mom called. She was afraid you’d have nothing to wear. She wants the gown to be a gift from her.” Nothing could have pointed out more clearly to Camille how far apart her world and Jake’s were than his sister’s casual attitude toward a designer gown. “There’s no reason for her to pay for my dress.” Shelby chuckled. “Yes, there is. She figures she owes you for bringing Jake home.” JAKE WAS BACK in a suit and tie. And tense. When he’d met with the FBI team the day before, while Camille tried on her new clothes, they’d assured him Eckart was staying well underground. “He may even have left the area,” Steve Parks, the team leader, said. “No, he hasn’t,” Jake disagreed firmly. “You’ve heard something?” “No. But I know how the man thinks. He considers Camille to be his property. He won’t rest until he has her in his control.” Even worse, Jake believed Eckart was filled with anger and revenge because he’d been bested by his ex-wife. His macho image had been damaged. He wouldn’t rest until he had Camille under his power again. And heaven help Camille—and Jamie—if that happened. “Come on, Jake. She’s just a woman, not Cleopatra. No man’s going to blow his entire life for a woman who doesn’t want him.” Jake sent a steely stare Steve’s way. “Stay alert. He’ll turn up.” Now he waited for Camille to appear so they could drive to his mother’s house. He wasn’t comfortable about the drive there. Once they arrived and he had Camille inside, he’d feel a lot better. He suspected Camille would, too. Ever since he left her at Garrett’s house yesterday, she’d behaved differently. More withdrawn, quieter. He should be pleased. After all, he’d rebuffed her early attempts at conversation. He’d ignored her offerings of friendship. For six months, he’d resisted her. And now that he wanted her to talk to him, she refused. “Camille? Are you ready?” He checked his watch again. He definitely wanted them to arrive at his mother’s early. There would be a crowd, since his family was large. His mother and father had had five children of their own plus his adopted siblings, R.J. and Anna. Then there were the four Lords, and Jake’s cousin Connor and his fianc?e. And Harrison Smith. Strange man. He’d come to town to check out Maitland Maternity Clinic as a possible place for his first grandchild’s entry into the world. Not an unusual occurrence. The hospital’s reputation drew the rich and the famous and extended far beyond the Texas border. But something about Harrison Smith bothered him. He’d stayed too long, and his interest seemed focused on the Maitlands themselves, rather than the clinic. “I’m ready,” Camille said softly. Jake looked up, still lost in thought, and was completely unprepared for the vision facing him. His breath caught in his throat, and he thought he was going to pass out. Dissolving into coughs, he bent over. “Are you all right?” Camille asked, concern in her voice. He straightened and looked at her again. Man, he was in trouble. He hadn’t seen her in anything sexy before. And she was right about her breasts. The gown she wore was a halter top in some kind of shimmery green material that made her eyes look huge. It hugged her breasts and then floated around her legs, emphasizing every move she made. Her silky blond hair, shoulder length when they’d first come to Texas, was longer now, but she’d swept it up on top of her head, revealing an elegant neck that made his mouth water. “Jake?” Camille prompted. “I’m fine. You look—very nice,” he said, hoping she wasn’t aware of the reaction those tame words hid. “Thank you. It’s exciting to wear new clothes. Anna even brought some things for Jamie. See, he’s wearing a new sleeper.” She gestured to the baby carrier where she’d strapped in her son. “Very nice. We’d better hurry. Here, put these on.” He held out a white shirt, a tie and a jacket. Camille stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?” “No.” This was part of his plan to protect Camille. “You’re going in disguise.” She took a step back. “But, Jake—my dress.” “It won’t hurt it.” He didn’t mention the fake mustache in his pocket or the cowboy hat on the breakfast table. He draped the jacket over the sofa and held out the dress shirt he’d bought the day before, along with the rest of the disguise. “Slip your arm in.” With a sigh, she turned her back to him even as she stepped closer to slide her left arm in first. It was almost as if she were in his embrace. He drew a deep breath and was assailed by her delicate, provocative perfume. With her bare neck so close, he had to fight the urge to trace its graceful lines with his lips. Damn! “I’m afraid I’ll mess up my nails,” Camille complained as she turned to face him. He’d been relieved that the white shirt covered her alluring d?colletage. Then he realized what her words meant. “You mean…you want me to button it?” “If you don’t mind.” Mind? He couldn’t find the words to explain the problem, because he’d have to admit what touching her did to him. With his mouth feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton, he growled and reached for the first button under her chin. Not too bad, he assured himself as his hands slid to the next button. But the third button—that was the test. His knuckles skimmed the warm, soft mounds of flesh above her low neckline, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. Camille jerked back, obviously uncomfortable with his touch, too. “I—I think my nails are dry enough now.” He nodded, still unable to speak. His gaze was fastened on her slender fingers, the nails painted a delicate pink, as she buttoned the shirt. He was relieved when the process was complete, and handed the tie to her. She stared at him blankly. “I don’t know how to do one of these.” “Do? You mean tie it?” “Yes, that’s what I mean.” He stood there, breathing deeply, trying to think. But in the end, he knew what he had to do. He slid his hands to her neck and turned up her collar, then slid the tie in place, its ends lying on her chest. Clearing his throat, he ordered, “Turn the collar back down.” After she’d done that, he said, “Take the ends of the tie and—” He didn’t know how to tell her. Finally, he led her to the hall mirror. Standing behind her, keeping his elbows as far from her body as he could, he reached around her and gingerly picked up the ends of the tie. Moving as quickly as he could, he tied the knot and slid it to her top button, all the time inhaling her delicate scent. “There,” he said, glad the tough part was over. “I don’t think this will fool anyone, Jake,” Camille insisted. “My hair and face—” He held up a hand, stopping her in midsentence. “This will help,” he assured her, reaching into his pocket for the brown mustache, “and there’s a hat in the kitchen.” Her hazel eyes widened, but she made no attempt to take the fake mustache. He swallowed several times before he stepped closer again. He peeled off the adhesive protector and pressed the mustache across Camille’s upper lip. Her soft upper lip. Her kissable lip. Hunger surged through him. She sneezed. “It tickles,” she complained. “That’s what a woman says when she kisses—” He stopped. He didn’t want to go there. “Did you ever have a mustache?” “Yeah, when I was younger and wanted to look older.” And more in control. More macho, able to face his father as a man. Able to determine his own future and not follow in the traditions already laid down by his family. But instead of facing his father, Jake had stayed far away. CAMILLE WASN’T SURE what she’d said that had distracted Jake, but he appeared to be worlds away. “Jake?” “Uh, yeah, here’s the jacket. You put it on and I’ll get the hat.” He hurried out of the room. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. When he stared at her lips, only to check out the mustache, of course, she’d thought she might melt. All she could think about was him kissing her. How much she wanted him to kiss her. What kissing him would be like. “Camille?” Jake said as he stepped into the room. “Is there something wrong with the jacket?” Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she scrambled into the jacket. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him. And it fit, sort of. A lot better than one of Jake’s would have. He was a big man. He showed her a felt Stetson. “I chose beige so there wouldn’t be a sharp contrast between your hair and the hat.” Without waiting for her to take it, he put it on her head. “My hair!” she exclaimed, reaching for the hat. He caught her hands. “No, don’t take it off. You’ll have time to fix your hair when we get there. We’d better go.” He reached for Jamie’s carrier at the same time she did, his hands touching hers again. Jerking back, he said, “I’ll carry him. We don’t want to mess up your disguise.” She surrendered her hold and stepped aside. “Okay. Will—will your mother—everyone else will be dressed up, won’t they?” Jake stared at her. “Is that what you’ve been stewing about? Whether you’ll be dressed all right?” “I haven’t been to a formal party in years, or maybe ever,” she confessed, avoiding his gaze. And she’d never been anywhere with a man who looked like Jake. He shrugged. “Hang around here long enough and you will. Mom loves dressing up.” He escorted her to the SUV and belted the baby carrier in the back seat. Neither of them spoke until they reached Garrett’s house and Camille exclaimed, “Look, there’s Max. And Garrett. Are they going to ride with us?” Jake slowed down. “Nope. They’re escorting us. Garrett will lead, and Max will bring up the rear. The only tricky part about the evening is getting you to and from Mom’s.” “Oh. Has there been any sign of Vince?” “No.” “Maybe he’s given up. Maybe he doesn’t want me or Jamie anymore.” Jake pressed his lips tightly together before he answered, a grim look on his face. “No. He hasn’t given up.” His words depressed her, and she sank back against the seat, staring out the window at the passing pastureland. WHEN THEY TURNED IN at the gate that protected his mother’s home, Camille spoke for the first time since they’d left Garrett’s ranch. “Oh, my heavens!” Jake gave a wry smile. The house was imposing. When he’d brought friends home from college, they’d been overwhelmed by the magnificence of his home. His girlfriend, the one who broke his heart, had reveled in the luxury of the place and been eager to move in. Once he realized his girlfriend was only interested in his family’s fortunes, he had decided he didn’t want to be associated with such obvious wealth. He didn’t want to be different from other people. He didn’t want friends who could be bought with money. “I thought Garrett’s house was—impressive. But this… You actually lived here?” There was astonishment in Camille’s voice. “Yeah.” “Were you ever lonely?” That unexpected question brought a rush of other memories. “Hell, no. There were seven of us kids, plus Mom and Dad and the staff they hired to take care of all of us. Both my parents were involved with the hospital, but they spent a lot of time with us,” he remembered, his lips curving in a smile. That smile felt good. Once his world had fallen apart with Susie’s betrayal, he’d had some problems with his father. When he left home, he was determined to make it on his own. And he had, but his childhood memories felt surprisingly good tonight. Garrett stopped and got out in front of the house as a man in uniform hurried to park his car. He stepped back and waited for Jake’s vehicle. When it came to a stop, he opened the door for Camille. An appreciative whistle split the air. “My, my, my. You’re a little, uh, unusual, Camille,” Garrett said with a smile. Jake looked sharply at his friend. Garrett wasn’t one to flirt. In fact, he was a very private man. But he’d been friendly with Camille. Jake got out and hurried around the SUV. Garrett had his hands around Camille’s waist to lift her out, and Jake had to fight to hold back harsh words. “Will you get Jamie, Jake?” Camille asked as Garrett turned to escort her into the house. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered. After all his work to take care of her, he didn’t even get to escort her into the party? He was going to have a few choice words for Garrett. Max joined him before he got to the front door. “Need some help with that diaper bag?” he asked, grinning. Jake gave him a disgusted look and shook his head. “You’d think they’d make these things without flowers all over them. Jamie’s a boy, too. He must be pretty embarrassed to have his belongings in this thing.” “I think he’ll survive,” Max assured him. “Did you see anything?” Jake asked, turning to business. “Nope. And I’ve checked all the staff and extras hired. They’re clean.” “Good. While I look around, I want you to stay close to Camille.” A sudden image of the way she looked beneath her disguise had him amending his instructions. “But not too close. And don’t let Garrett drool all over her.” Max laughed again. “That might be the hardest assignment you’ve given me. Especially when she gets rid of that mustache. Good thing no one could see her clearly on the way in. She could never pass as a man.” “Yeah,” Jake muttered. “Where are the guards stationed?” He had a picture of Eckart in his breast pocket. He wanted to show it around one more time. Max gave him the information he’d asked for. “Right. I’ll be back in a minute,” he assured his friend. “You taking the baby with you?” Max asked as they entered the house. Camille was waiting with Garrett in the entry. “I’ll take Jamie. I want to see the nursery where he’ll be staying.” “I’ll take her to the nursery and somewhere she can remove her disguise,” Garrett offered. Jake gave Max a stern look. Max chuckled again. “We’ll take her,” he assured Garrett. “I want to see the setup.” Jake hurried away. He didn’t want either man to spend too much time under Camille’s spell. They might never recover. He wasn’t sure he would. CAMILLE was overwhelmed. She gazed around the high-ceilinged room at the beautifully dressed women, the men in their suits, and felt as if she’d stepped into another world. Megan Maitland, an elegant and gracious woman, had introduced her to each of her children and their spouses. The woman was well loved by her family. Now she arrived at Camille’s side, a beaming smile on her face. “Camille, dear, let me present my nephew, Connor O’Hara. I wish you could meet his fianc?e, Janelle, but unfortunately she’s under the weather and couldn’t join us.” “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Camille said. “But I’m pleased to meet you, Connor. It’s so wonderful that you and your family have managed to find each other after all these years.” Megan’s nephew was good-looking in a rugged way, but when he took her hand, his lecherous gaze roved over her. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Camille wanted to like everything about the Maitland family. After all, this was Jake’s family, and every member she’d met had been charming. Everyone but Connor. Something about him bothered her, and she tugged her hand away. A strong arm slid around her, and she jerked in surprise as she realized Jake had joined them. “Connor, Mom,” he said, acknowledging the other two. “There you are, darling,” Megan said, smiling at her youngest son. “Yes, Mom, here I am. Connor, where’s Janelle? I haven’t seen her.” A flash of jealousy went through Camille. Did Jake have a special interest in the absent woman? “She’s laid up with a cold and running a fever, so she wanted to stay in bed tonight, not take any chances.” The man sent a suffering look Megan’s way, and she patted him on the arm. “She made the right decision, though of course we miss her,” Megan assured Connor. Then she turned to Camille. “Did you see Chase when you took your baby upstairs?” Jake had told Camille about Connor and Janelle’s little boy, Chase. For reasons Camille didn’t know, Janelle had abandoned the baby on the clinic steps the previous fall. Then in January she’d shown up to claim her child, but he was still in Megan’s care. “Yes, I did,” Camille said with a smile. “He’s a handsome boy, and big for his age.” “Yes, he is, isn’t he?” Megan agreed, sounding like a doting great-aunt. Camille had been intimidated by Megan’s appearance when she’d first met her, but then she’d discovered the warm, loving woman beneath the expensive attire. No wonder all of Megan Maitland’s children adored her. “What did you name your little boy?” Megan asked. “James Jacob,” Camille said, not thinking about the speculation the name might cause. Jake’s hand squeezed her waist in warning. “After Jake?” his mother asked in surprise. “Um, well, Jake has helped me a great deal and—and his name went well with my father’s.” Connor gave a harsh laugh. “I heard that my cousin was quite a stud, but I didn’t know—” “Connor!” Megan snapped, an air of command in her voice for the first time. He sobered at once and offered an apology. Jake seemed distracted, however, his gaze fixed on something or someone over his mother’s shoulder. “I believe you have a late guest, Mom.” She turned to look, then said, “Of course. Mr. Smith. If you’ll excuse me, children, I’ll go greet him.” “Who’s that?” Connor asked, frowning. Camille could feel the tension in Jake and knew he had some kind of interest in the man who had just arrived. She wondered if he had any connection to her ex-husband, but instantly dismissed that idea. Jake wouldn’t have allowed him to be invited to his mother’s house had that been the case. “A man who’s checking out the hospital for his grandchild’s birth. Mom thought he might enjoy meeting the family.” Camille studied Jake’s face. His explanation was reasonable enough, she supposed, but something about his intensity alarmed her. “I thought it was just supposed to be family,” Connor grumbled. “Though I suppose since the Lords are here, there’s no reason—” “The Lords are part of our family, Connor,” Jake corrected. “I’d suggest you not make that mistake in front of Mom.” The man glowered at Jake, then tipped his glass to swallow the last of his drink. He signaled a waiter and exchanged his empty glass for another flute of champagne. “Aren’t you two drinking?” he asked, gesturing to the waiter’s almost full tray. Camille lifted her glass of club soda. “I have something, thank you.” Jake didn’t bother with excuses. He shook his head at the waiter and continued to keep his eye on the new guest. A couple of minutes later, Megan approached them, a very handsome dark-haired man at her side. “Mr. Smith, I’d like you to meet my nephew, Connor O’Hara, and—” Camille had been studying the new arrival as Megan made the introduction. When she gave Connor’s name, the man whitened, all blood draining from his face, and Camille wondered if he would faint. Jake grabbed his arm. “What the hell is going on?” CHAPTER FOUR JAKE SLIPPED a hand beneath Smith’s arm to support him, afraid he might pass out. Instead, Smith squared his shoulders and shrugged off Jake’s hold. “Are you all right?” Camille asked, leaning toward him. Jake recognized his instinctive urge to come between Camille and the stranger, but squelched it at once. There was no need to protect her. She was safe here. “My heavens,” Megan exclaimed, looking at Harrison Smith. “Are you ill?” “Yes! Yes, I just got over a bad bout with the flu,” he replied, a little too quickly, Jake decided. “I thought I was fully recovered but I guess I’ve had too long a day.” Connor shrugged. “You probably should go home. Put your feet up.” Jake smiled at his mother. “I’ll take Mr. Smith to the study and let him rest. He’ll probably be okay in a few minutes.” He didn’t want his opportunity to question the man to disappear. Especially now. “I’ll find him something to eat,” Camille added. She smiled sympathetically at Smith, and Jake felt the stirrings of jealousy. What was wrong with him? She was only trying to be helpful. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it,” Smith murmured, returning Camille’s smile. For a prospective grandfather, Smith’s smile was a little too appreciative of Camille’s concern, Jake thought. Placing his hand on Smith’s shoulder, he directed him away from her. As he did so, he caught Michael Lord’s gaze and nodded toward Camille. “I hope you’re able to stay, Mr. Smith,” Megan said, her social graces intact, as always. “Maybe if you rest until dinner, you’ll feel better.” “Thank you,” he murmured. Camille flagged down a waiter and conferred with him as Jake led Smith toward the study. She’d be safe, he assured himself as he caught sight of Michael heading toward her. Nothing could happen to her while he questioned the guest. Once they reached the study, Smith stepped away from Jake. “Thank you for your support. I’m feeling much better now. If you want to return to the party, I’ll stay here for a few minutes.” Jake stuck his hands into his pants pockets and shrugged. “I’ve been to too many of these parties. I’d just as soon have a break, too.” “I wouldn’t want to upset your mother by keeping her youngest away from the party,” Smith said with a slight smile. Jake studied him. “How did you know I was the youngest?” Smith didn’t flinch or look surprised by his question. “I think it’s common knowledge. You and your sister Anna are the only ones not involved in the hospital. I suppose that fact made you stand out.” He chose one of the large leather chairs tucked in a corner of the shadowy room, away from the glow of the lamp. Jake paced around the room. “So, I understand your daughter is expecting.” “Yes.” “Where is she?” “At home. In Montana.” He kept his gaze fixed on the cuff of his shirt, which he straightened with his opposite hand. “And her husband?” One eyebrow slid up, reminding Jake of Megan when one of her children had challenged her. He almost grinned, then regained control of himself. “Are you implying I’m interfering with my daughter’s life?” Jake didn’t back down. “I just know if my wife was having a child, I’d be the one making the decisions about the birth, not my father-in-law.” Memories of Jamie’s birth flooded him. Jamie wasn’t his child, but Jake had been there for Camille. “You’ve never—” Smith began, when the door, which Jake had closed, swung open. Camille entered with a tray filled with hors d’oeuvres and glasses of club soda. She was followed by Michael. Jake wasn’t surprised. He and Michael had discussed Harrison Smith and his probing questions. As head of security for Maitland Maternity, Michael had a few questions of his own. He strode across the room and offered his hand to Smith. Camille hurried in his footsteps to put her tray on a table beside Smith’s chair. “I think if you’ll eat a little, Mr. Smith, you’ll feel better,” she said, smiling at him. Jake couldn’t help himself. He crossed the room and took Camille’s arm. “You’d better go back to the party.” Camille raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ll be missed, except by your cousin Connor. He seems, uh, eager to get to know me.” Jake had recognized the leer on Connor’s face. He’d told himself he was being hypersensitive, but the thought of sending Camille back to the party without his protection wasn’t a happy thought. “Thank you for the food,” Smith said to Camille. “I promise I’ll be fine after a few minutes’ rest and these snacks. I don’t want to keep any of you from the party.” Jake stubbornly refused to be dismissed. “Look at it as an opportunity to get even more information about the hospital, Mr. Smith. After all, Michael is head of security. He can answer any questions you might have in that area.” Smith studied Jake, as if questioning his words, before he smiled at Camille. “I think I’ve already asked too many questions about the hospital. I believe Mr. Maitland thinks I’m obsessive about my daughter’s welfare.” Camille smiled in return. “Having a baby, even a grandbaby, is an important event. I admire your concern.” Smith nodded. “I have to admit, I find the unusual story of your cousin’s return to the family fold more interesting,” he said, looking at Jake. “It was a topic of conversation for a while at the diner near the clinic.” Êîíåö îçíàêîìèòåëüíîãî ôðàãìåíòà. Òåêñò ïðåäîñòàâëåí ÎÎÎ «ËèòÐåñ». Ïðî÷èòàéòå ýòó êíèãó öåëèêîì, êóïèâ ïîëíóþ ëåãàëüíóþ âåðñèþ (https://www.litres.ru/judy-christenberry/guarding-camille/?lfrom=688855901) íà ËèòÐåñ. Áåçîïàñíî îïëàòèòü êíèãó ìîæíî áàíêîâñêîé êàðòîé Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, ñî ñ÷åòà ìîáèëüíîãî òåëåôîíà, ñ ïëàòåæíîãî òåðìèíàëà, â ñàëîíå ÌÒÑ èëè Ñâÿçíîé, ÷åðåç PayPal, WebMoney, ßíäåêñ.Äåíüãè, QIWI Êîøåëåê, áîíóñíûìè êàðòàìè èëè äðóãèì óäîáíûì Âàì ñïîñîáîì.
Íàø ëèòåðàòóðíûé æóðíàë Ëó÷øåå ìåñòî äëÿ ðàçìåùåíèÿ ñâîèõ ïðîèçâåäåíèé ìîëîäûìè àâòîðàìè, ïîýòàìè; äëÿ ðåàëèçàöèè ñâîèõ òâîð÷åñêèõ èäåé è äëÿ òîãî, ÷òîáû âàøè ïðîèçâåäåíèÿ ñòàëè ïîïóëÿðíûìè è ÷èòàåìûìè. Åñëè âû, íåèçâåñòíûé ñîâðåìåííûé ïîýò èëè çàèíòåðåñîâàííûé ÷èòàòåëü - Âàñ æä¸ò íàø ëèòåðàòóðíûé æóðíàë.