exchanged glares. Nick’s furious, Will’s unrepentant.
She didn’t doubt she looked guilty but not for the reason Nick thought. Her baby was
in danger, and she wasn’t convinced she could protect it. Not on her own.
A familiar, black sense of failure and inadequacy surged before she could contain
it. When all was said and done, she was, and always would be, alone. No one had ever
wanted her for keeps. Not even Nick.
She shut her eyes and massaged her temples with the heels of her hands. She wouldn’t
enter that emotional horror, not again.
“Anna, you okay?”
The concern in Nick’s voice tore her heart in two. It would be so easy to hand this
whole damn mess over to him. He’d sort it. He always had. But the price of the emotional
debt he’d call in afterward would bankrupt her. “Just…tired,” she muttered wearily,
opening her eyes. “Please, can I go now?”
“All right, on one condition. You stay home until we work out what the hell is going
on, and you alert me the next time a gift arrives.”
“Or?”
“Or, by God, I’ll be back, and tonight’s little interrogation will seem like a stroll
in the park.”
She leapt from the sofa and advanced on him until they were toe-to-toe. “Thanks for
the warning, Nick. Now here’s one for you. I’ve got a company to run and a diary chock-full
of appointments to keep. I meant it when I said I’d go to the press if necessary.
So back off and make sure you take Fortress with you. And don’t even think about getting
the Service involved, because right now, I’d have to be mad to trust an organization
that prefers to employ only those born to kill.”
She spun on her heel, then made her way to her front door, opened it, and held it
wide, her message clear, though she kept her head down.
It had to be Nick rather than Will who paused beside her. With a finger beneath her
chin, he encouraged her head upward. Her eyes clashing with steely-blue ones, which
oddly, weren’t as condemning as usual. Instead, they were almost sympathetic, like
he remembered how fiercely she defended her independence and how hard she found it
to compromise.
“You’ve never won a fight against me yet, Anna. I want you safe. And I don’t want
the Service involved any more than you do, but I’m still putting two Fortress men
up here on the landing, so don’t give them merry hell in the morning, okay? They’ll
just be following orders.”
He dipped his head. His lips brushed her brow.
If his intent had been to completely disarm her so she wouldn’t fight him about the
protection, he’d succeeded. The tight smile she attempted caved into a painful gulp.
No way was she crying in front of him. Not this time. Hands flat on his chest, she
pushed Nick across her threshold and slammed the door in his face, throwing the dead
bolts for good measure. With her defenses completely routed, rudeness worked for her.
Her back against the door, she yanked up the hem of her T-shirt and dabbed her eyes
before any tears could spill. She didn’t have time for an emotional tsunami. Nick
was right. She needed the identity of her baby’s father.
Releasing the breath trapped in her chest, she kicked free her high heels and, ignoring
her laptop, padded over to her powerful computer console instead. She didn’t pull
up a chair. This hacking session would be one she’d do upright. To remind herself
she was more than capable of standing on her own two feet.
Accessing the clinic’s mainframe was ridiculously easy. Opening the confidential files,
her own included, wasn’t. Her fingertips burned from the speed with which she had
to feed the clinic’s system strings of code to circumvent the incessant demand for
passwords and user IDs.
Four hours into a marathon of dancing past traps and triggers that would have seen
most programmers tossed out on their ass, and finally, finally, the screen blacked
out, leaving only her
She didn’t doubt she looked guilty but not for the reason Nick thought. Her baby was
in danger, and she wasn’t convinced she could protect it. Not on her own.
A familiar, black sense of failure and inadequacy surged before she could contain
it. When all was said and done, she was, and always would be, alone. No one had ever
wanted her for keeps. Not even Nick.
She shut her eyes and massaged her temples with the heels of her hands. She wouldn’t
enter that emotional horror, not again.
“Anna, you okay?”
The concern in Nick’s voice tore her heart in two. It would be so easy to hand this
whole damn mess over to him. He’d sort it. He always had. But the price of the emotional
debt he’d call in afterward would bankrupt her. “Just…tired,” she muttered wearily,
opening her eyes. “Please, can I go now?”
“All right, on one condition. You stay home until we work out what the hell is going
on, and you alert me the next time a gift arrives.”
“Or?”
“Or, by God, I’ll be back, and tonight’s little interrogation will seem like a stroll
in the park.”
She leapt from the sofa and advanced on him until they were toe-to-toe. “Thanks for
the warning, Nick. Now here’s one for you. I’ve got a company to run and a diary chock-full
of appointments to keep. I meant it when I said I’d go to the press if necessary.
So back off and make sure you take Fortress with you. And don’t even think about getting
the Service involved, because right now, I’d have to be mad to trust an organization
that prefers to employ only those born to kill.”
She spun on her heel, then made her way to her front door, opened it, and held it
wide, her message clear, though she kept her head down.
It had to be Nick rather than Will who paused beside her. With a finger beneath her
chin, he encouraged her head upward. Her eyes clashing with steely-blue ones, which
oddly, weren’t as condemning as usual. Instead, they were almost sympathetic, like
he remembered how fiercely she defended her independence and how hard she found it
to compromise.
“You’ve never won a fight against me yet, Anna. I want you safe. And I don’t want
the Service involved any more than you do, but I’m still putting two Fortress men
up here on the landing, so don’t give them merry hell in the morning, okay? They’ll
just be following orders.”
He dipped his head. His lips brushed her brow.
If his intent had been to completely disarm her so she wouldn’t fight him about the
protection, he’d succeeded. The tight smile she attempted caved into a painful gulp.
No way was she crying in front of him. Not this time. Hands flat on his chest, she
pushed Nick across her threshold and slammed the door in his face, throwing the dead
bolts for good measure. With her defenses completely routed, rudeness worked for her.
Her back against the door, she yanked up the hem of her T-shirt and dabbed her eyes
before any tears could spill. She didn’t have time for an emotional tsunami. Nick
was right. She needed the identity of her baby’s father.
Releasing the breath trapped in her chest, she kicked free her high heels and, ignoring
her laptop, padded over to her powerful computer console instead. She didn’t pull
up a chair. This hacking session would be one she’d do upright. To remind herself
she was more than capable of standing on her own two feet.
Accessing the clinic’s mainframe was ridiculously easy. Opening the confidential files,
her own included, wasn’t. Her fingertips burned from the speed with which she had
to feed the clinic’s system strings of code to circumvent the incessant demand for
passwords and user IDs.
Four hours into a marathon of dancing past traps and triggers that would have seen
most programmers tossed out on their ass, and finally, finally, the screen blacked
out, leaving only her
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