“Shouldn’t you heat that or something?” he asked as she finished preparing the bottle and picked up Brook.
“It isn’t necessary. The formula is sterile and room temperature.”
Brook was in her arms, drinking from a bottle and for a moment the picture of mother and child caused a strange warmth to suffuse him.
Colette’s head was bent, her hair forming a curtain of brown silk as she smiled down at the baby. He’d never seen Colette look so soft. It was as if the mere act of feeding her child created a peace in her that transcended any other problems she might face.
There were things he needed to explain to her, things that he hoped would make her realize she had to trust him, make her reluctant to run. But he remained silent, loath to shatter the momentary peace she’d found.
He knew he should look away from her, but like the moon pulled the tides, something about the scene drew him. As he watched, Colette rubbed a finger across Brook’s cheek, then laughed and murmured something too low for Hank to hear.
He’d seen Colette’s eyes filled with anger, snapping with impatience and glazed with frightened tears, but in the time they’d been together, he’d never seen her so softly vulnerable, so filled with tenderness. He suddenly felt threatened, bewitched by the heat that swirled inside him, the beauty of her loving smile.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice louder than intended, smashing the momentary quiet of the room.
“So talk.” Her eyes flashed annoyance and an edge of relief swept through Hank. Annoyance was good. Irritation was good. Far better to deal with those emotions than the alien ones she’d stirred moments before.
She placed the baby at her shoulder and patted her back, looking at him expectantly.
“Colette, I don’t think you fully understand the danger you’re in, the fact that if you escape from me you’ll probably end up dead. Until we get to California, your only hope for staying alive is to remain with me.”
He raked a hand through his hair, his gaze remaining on her. “Think about it. You have no money, no memory of friends to turn to for help. How long can you survive on your own with the baby, hiding from killers?” He could tell he was getting to her. She half flinched beneath each statement of fact. “I can’t tell you how dangerous Cameron Collier is. He’s powerful enough to find you no matter where you try to hide.”
“But my sisters—”
“You’d only place them in danger,” he said, cutting her off. “Colette, you have to understand. The next two weeks are going to be the most dangerousyou ever experience. You won’t survive them without me. And I won’t survive them if I have to watch my back with you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, all innocence that didn’t fool him a bit.
“To be smarter, better than Collier’s men, I’ll need sleep, and I can’t sleep if I know each time I close my eyes you’ll try to get away. Hell, I can’t even contemplate a nice hot shower unless I take the baby into the bathroom with me as a little insurance.”
Her face flushed a becoming pink as she placed the baby, who’d fallen asleep, back on the bed. She rubbed her forehead, as if she, too, suffered a tension headache. “I’ll make you a deal,” she finally said. “I promise you I won’t try to escape between here and California.”
He eyed her skeptically. Could he trust her to keep such a promise? He’d like to think he’d gotten through to her on an intelligent level, but knew Colette was the type of woman who functioned most of the time on emotions.
Yet, in her eyes he didn’t see a lie, but rather saw the resignation of a woman who knew he’d told her the truth about her situation.
“Do you ever break your promises, Colette?”
She smiled. “I can honestly say I can’t remember a single time that I’ve ever broken a promise.”
“Easy to say when you have amnesia.”
She shrugged. “It’s the best I can do.” A sigh escaped her. “Hank, I’ve given you my word and I intend to keep it. Besides, it’s been a rather trying day and at the moment I’m just too damned tired to try to escape.” She stood. “In fact, if you aren’t goingto use that hot shower, I will.” She grabbed a pair of the jogging pants and one of the T-shirts he’d bought, then with a final check on Brook, disappeared into the bathroom.
As the sound of the water running echoed from the tiny bathroom, Hank kicked off his boots and stretched out on the bed.
Just a little more than two weeks…sixteen days and he could finally put this case and Colette Connor behind him. A year of his life had been devoted to what should have taken the justice system mere weeks. But the criminal docket had been full, and the judge assigned to the case had been lenient in granting delays and postponements to Collier’s legal eagles.
Hank had been relieved to hear there would be no more delays. Cameron Collier would have his day in court, and Hank would make certain the star witness was there. Too bad he couldn’t guarantee she’d remember the incriminating conversation she’d overheard. Nor could he guarantee what her life would be like after testifying.
He closed his eyes, shoving away thoughts of what might happen to her after this was all over. It had nothing to do with him. He’d continue his life… alone, his hard heart unscathed.
Despite his efforts to the contrary, as the shower continued to run, a mental image of Colette beneath the spray filled his brain. He could easily imagine her head thrown back, her lithe body thrust beneath the spray.
He knew, from the time they’d spent together before, that she liked her shower hot enough to turn her skin a rosy pink. She’d use the washcloth laden withsuds languidly, beginning at her shoulders, then caressing across her full breasts…down the flat of her stomach, across the slight protrusion of her hip bones—
With a muttered oath, he pulled himself off the bed, fighting against a wave of internal heat so intense it threatened to overwhelm him.
