He’d been shot before; he’d been sliced up in a knife fight. He’d had his collarbone broken, ribs cracked, a lung punctured. He had been seriously injured before, but this was the closest he’d ever come to dying. He’d been bleeding to death, lying there in the bottom of the raft with Barrie crouched over him, pressing the chador over the wound with every ounce of her weight. Her quickness, her determination, had made the difference. Santos squeezing the plasma from the bags into his veins had made the difference. He had been so close that he could pick out a dozen details that had made the difference; if any one of them hadn’t happened, he would have died.
He’d been unusually quiet since leaving the naval hospital and returning home for convalescence. It wasn’t that he was in low spirits, but rather that he had a lot of thinking to do, something that hadn’t been easy when practically the entire family had felt compelled to visit and reassure themselves of his relative well-being. Joe had flown in from Washington for a quick check on his baby brother; Michael and Shea had visited several times, bringing their two rapscallion sons with them; Josh and Loren and their three had descended for a weekend visit, which was all the time Loren’s job at the hospital in Seattle had allowed. Maris had driven all night to be there when he was brought home. At least he’d been able to walk on his own by then, even if very slowly, or likely she would still be here. She had pulled up a chair directly in front of him and sat for hours, her black eyes locked on his face as if she was willing vitality from her body into his. Maybe she had been. His little sister was fey, magical; she operated on a different level than other people did.
Hell, even Chance had shown up. He’d done so warily, eyeing their mother and sister as if they were bombs that might go off in his face, but he was here, sitting beside Zane on the porch.
“You’re thinking of resigning.”
Zane didn’t have to wonder how Chance had known what was on his mind. After nearly battering each other to death when they were fourteen, they had reached an unusual communion. Maybe it was because they’d shared so much, from classes to girls to military training. Even after all this time, Chance was as wary as a wounded wolf and didn’t like people to get close to him, but even though he resisted, he was helpless against family. Chance had never in his life been loved until Mary had brought him home with her and the sprawling, brawling Mackenzies had knocked him flat. It was fun to watch him still struggle against the family intimacy each time he was drawn into the circle, because within an hour he always surrendered. Mary wouldn’t let him do anything else; nor would Maris. After accepting him as a brother, Zane had never even acknowledged Chance’s wariness. Only Wolf was willing to give his adopted son time to adjust—but there was still a limit on how much time he would allow.
“Yeah,” he finally said.
“Because you nearly bought it this time?”
Zane snorted. “When has that ever made any difference to either of us?” He alone of the family knew the exact details of Chance’s work. It was a toss-up which of them was in the most danger.
“Then it’s this last promotion that did it.”
“It took me out of the field,” Zane said quietly. Carefully he leaned back in the chair and propped his booted feet on the porch railing. Though he was a fast healer, two and a half weeks wasn’t quite long enough to let him ignore the wound. “If two of my men hadn’t been wounded in that screw up on the Montgomery, I wouldn’t have been able to go on this last mission.”
Chance knew about the screw up. Zane had told him about it, and screw up was the most polite description he’d used. As soon as he’d regained consciousness in the naval hospital, he’d been on the phone, starting and directing the investigation. Though Odessa would fully recover, it was likely Higgins would have to retire on disability. The guards who had shot the two SEALs might escape court-martial if their counsel was really slick, but at the very least they would be cashiered out of the service. The extent of the damage to the careers of Captain Udaka and Executive Officer Boyd remained to be seen; Zane had targeted the shooters, but the ripple effect would go all the way up to the captain.
“I’m thirty-one,” Zane said. “That’s just about the upper limit for active missions. I’m too damn good at my job, too. The Navy keeps promoting me for it, then they say I’m too highly ranked to go on missions.”
“You want to throw in with me?” Chance asked casually.
He’d considered it. Very seriously. But something kept nagging at him, something he couldn’t quite bring into focus.
“I want to. If things were different, I would, but…”
“What things?”
Zane shrugged. At least part of his uneasy feeling could be nailed down. “A woman,” he said.
“Oh, hell.” Chance kicked back and surveyed the world over the toes of his boots. “If it’s a woman, you won’t be able to concentrate on anything until you’ve gotten her out of your system. Damn their sweet little hides,” he said fondly. Chance generally had women crawling all over him. It didn’t hurt that he was drop-dead handsome, but he had a raffish, daredevil quality to him that brought them out of the woodwork.
Zane wasn’t certain he could get Barrie out of his system. He wasn’t certain he wanted to. He didn’t wonder why she had disappeared without even saying goodbye, hope you’re feeling better. Bunny and Spook had told him how she’d been dragged, kicking and yelling and swearing, aboard a plane and taken back to Athens. He figured her father, combined with the Navy’s policy of secrecy concerning the SEALs, had prevented her from finding out to which hospital they’d taken him.
He missed her. He missed her courage, her sturdy willingness to do whatever needed doing. He missed the serenity of her expression, and the heat of her lovemaking.
God, yes.
The one memory, more than any of the others, that was branded in his brain was the moment when she had reached for his belt and said in that fierce whisper, “I’ll do it!”
He’d understood. Not just why she needed to be in control, but the courage it took her to wipe out the bad memories and replace them with good ones. She’d been a virgin; she had told the truth about that. She hadn’t known what to do, and she hadn’t expected the pain. But she had taken him anyway, sweetly, hotly, sliding her tight little body down on him and shattering his control the way no other woman had ever done.
She could have been a spoiled, helpless little socialite; she should have been exactly that. Instead she had made the best of a tense, dangerous situation, done what she could to help and hadn’t voiced a single complaint.
He liked being with her, liked talking to her. He was too much of a loner to easily accept the word love in connection with anyone other than family, but with Barrie…maybe. He wanted to spend more time with her, get to know her better, let whatever would develop get to developing.
He wanted her.
First things first, though. He had to get his strength back; right now he could walk from room to room without aid, but he would think twice about heading down to the stables by himself. He had to decide whether or not he was going to stay in the Navy; it felt like time to be moving on, since the reason he’d joined in the first place was being taken away from him as he moved up the ranks. If he wasn’t going to remain a SEAL, then what would he do for a living? He had to decide, had to get his life settled.
Barrie might not be interested in any kind of relationship with him, though from the way Spook and Bunny had described her departure, he didn’t think that was the case. The day of lovemaking they had shared had been more than propinquity for both of them.
Getting in touch with her could take some doing, though. That morning he had placed a call to the embassy in Athens. He’d given his name and asked to speak to Barrie Lovejoy. It had been Ambassador William Lovejoy who had come on the line, however, and the conversation hadn’t been cordial.
“It isn’t that Barrie doesn’t appreciate what you did, but I’m sure you understand that she wants to put all of that behind he
r. Talking with you would bring it all back and needlessly upset her,” the ambassador had said in a cool, well-bred voice, his diction the best money could buy.
“Is that her opinion, or yours?” Zane had asked, his tone arctic.
“I don’t see that it matters,” the ambassador had replied, and hung up.
Zane decided he would let it rest for now. He wasn’t in any shape to do much about it, so he would wait. When he had his mind made up about what he was going to do, there would be plenty of time to get in touch with Barrie, and now that he knew the ambassador had given orders for his calls not to be routed to her, the next time he would be prepared to do an end run around her father.
“Zane,” his mother called from inside the house, pulling his thoughts to the present. “Are you getting tired?”
“I feel fine,” he called back. It was an exaggeration, but he wasn’t unduly tired. He glanced at Chance and saw the smirk on his brother’s face.
“With all the worry about you, she forgot about my cracked ribs,” Chance whispered.
“Glad to be of service,” Zane drawled. “Just don’t expect me to get shot every time you bang yourself up a little.” The entire family thought it was hilarious the way Chance reacted to Mary’s coddling and fussing, as if the attention terrified him, even though he was never able to resist her. Chance was putty in Mary’s hands, but then, they all were. They’d grown up with the fine example of their father to emulate, and Wolf Mackenzie might growl and stomp, but Mary usually got her way.
“Chance?”
Zane controlled a grin as Chance stiffened, the smirk disappearing from his face as if it had never been.
“Ma’am?” he answered cautiously.
“Are you still keeping a pressure wrap on your ribs?”
That familiar panicked expression was in his eyes now. “Ah…no, ma’am.” He could have lied; Mary would have believed him. But none of them ever lied to her, even when it was in their best interests. It would hurt the little tyrant’s feelings too much if she ever discovered any of her kids had lied to her.
“You know you’re supposed to wrap them for another week,” said the voice from inside the house. It was almost like hearing God speak, except this voice was light and sweet and liquidly Southern.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Come inside and let me take care of that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Chance said again, resignation in his voice. He got up from his rocking chair and went into the house. As he passed Zane, he muttered, “Getting shot didn’t work. Try something else.”
Chapter 8
Two months later, Sheriff Zane Mackenzie stood naked at the window of the pleasant two-bedroom Spanish-style house he had bought in southern Arizona. He was staring out over the moonlit desert, something wild and hot running through him at the sight. His SEAL training had taught him how to adapt to any environment, and the hot, dry climate didn’t bother him.
Once he’d made up his mind to resign his commission, things had rapidly fallen into place. Upon hearing that he was leaving the Navy, a former SEAL team member who was now on the governor’s staff in Phoenix had called and asked if he would be interested in serving the remaining two years of the term of a sheriff who had died in office.
At first Zane had been taken aback; he’d never considered going into law enforcement. Moreover, he didn’t know anything about Arizona state laws.
“Don’t worry about it,” his friend had said breezily. “Sheriff is a political position, and most of the time it’s more administrative than anything else. The situation you’d be going into is more hands-on, though. A couple of the deputies have quit, so you’d be shorthanded until some more can be hired, and the ones still there will resent the hell out of you because one of them wasn’t appointed to finish out the sheriff’s term.”
“Why not?” Zane asked bluntly. “What’s wrong with the chief deputy?”
“She’s one of the ones who quit. She left a couple of months before the sheriff died, took a job on the force in Prescott.”
“None of the others are qualified?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Then what would you say?”
“You gotta understand, there’s not a lot of selection here. A couple of the young deputies are good, real good, but they’re too young, not enough experience. The one twenty-year guy isn’t interested. A fifteen-year guy is a jerk, and the rest of the deputies hate his guts.”
Sheriff. Zane thought about it, growing more intrigued with the idea. He had no illusions about it being a cakewalk. He would have difficulties with the fifteen-year veteran, at least, and likely all the other deputies would have some reservations and resistance about someone from the outside being brought in. Hell, he liked it better that way. Cakewalks didn’t interest him. He’d rather have a challenging job any day. “Okay, I’m interested. What does it involve?”
“A lot of headache, mostly. The pay’s decent, the hours are lousy. A reservation sits on part of the county, so you’ll have to deal with the BIA. There’s a big problem with illegal immigrants, but that’s for the INS to worry about. Generally, this isn’t a high crime area. Not enough people.”
So here he was, his strength back, the owner of a house and a hundred acres of land, newly sworn in as sheriff. He’d brought in a few of his horses from his parents’ place in Wyoming. It was a hell of a change from the Navy.
It was time to see about Barrie. He’d thought about her a lot over the past few months, but lately he couldn’t think about anything else. The uneasy feeling was persisting, growing stronger. He’d put his resources to work, and to his surprise found that she’d left Athens within a week of being returned there. She was currently living at the Lovejoy private residence in Arlington, Virginia. Moreover, last month the ambassador had abruptly asked to be replaced, and he, too, had returned to Virginia. Zane wished Mr. Lovejoy had remained in Athens, but his presence was a problem that could be handled.
No matter what her father did or said, Zane was determined to see Barrie. There was unfinished business between them, a connection that had been abruptly cut when he’d been shot and she had been forced aboard a flight to Athens. He knew the hot intimacy of those long hours together could have been a product of stress and propinquity, but at this point, he didn’t give a damn. There were other considerations, ones he couldn’t ignore. That was why he had a flight out of Tucson to Washington in the morning. He needed to be sleeping, but one thought kept going around and around in his head. She was pregnant.
He couldn’t say why he was so convinced of it. It was a gut feeling, an intuition, even a logical conclusion. There hadn’t been any means of birth control available; they had made love several times. Put the two facts together, and the possibility of pregnancy existed. He didn’t think it was a mere possibility, though; he thought it was a fact.
Barrie was going to have his baby.
The rush of fierce possessiveness he felt was like a tidal wave, sweeping away all his cautious plans. There wouldn’t be any gradual getting-to-know-each-other stage, no easing into the idea of a serious relationship. If she was pregnant, they would get married immediately. If she didn’t like the idea, he would convince her. It was as simple as that.
She was pregnant. Barrie hugged the precious knowledge to herself, not ready yet to let anyone else know, certainly not her father. The kidnapping and the aftermath had driven a wedge between them that neither of them could remove. He was desperate to restore their former relationship; nothing else could have induced him to resign from a post, an action that could have had serious repercussions for his career if it hadn’t generally been thought that he had resigned because she had been so traumatized by the kidnapping that she couldn’t remain in Athens and he wanted to be with her.
She tried not to think about whatever he might be involved in, because it hurt. It hurt horribly that he might be a traitor. Part of her simply couldn’t believe it; he was an old-fashioned man, a man to whom honor wasn’t
just a word but a way of life. She had no proof, only logic and her own deductions…that, and the expression he hadn’t quite been able to hide when she had asked him directly if he was involved in anything that might have resulted in her being kidnapped.
It also hurt horribly that he had kept her from Zane. She had made inquiries once she reached Virginia, but once again she had collided with a stone wall. No one would give her any information at all about him. She had even contacted SEAL headquarters and been politely stone-walled again. At least with the SEALs it was probably policy to safeguard the team members’ identities and location, given the sensitive nature of the antiterrorism unit.
She was having his baby. She wanted him to know about it. She wouldn’t expect anything of him that he didn’t want to give, but she wanted him to know about his child. And she desperately wanted to see him again. She was adrift and lonely and frightened, her emotions in turmoil, and she needed some security in that part of her life, at least. He wasn’t the kind of man who would blithely walk away from his offspring and ignore their existence. This baby would be a permanent link between them, something she could count on.
She doubted her father would relent concerning Zane even if he knew about the baby; his possessiveness would probably extend to a grandchild, even an illegitimate one. He would take steps to keep her pregnancy quiet, and even when the news got around, as it inevitably would, people would assume it was a child of rape, and they would look at her pityingly and talk about how brave she was.
She thought she would go mad. She had escaped to Virginia only to have her father follow. He panicked if she went anywhere unescorted. She had her own car, but he didn’t want her driving it; he wanted his driver to take her wherever she wanted to go. She had had to sneak to a pharmacy to buy a home pregnancy test, though she had been sure fairly early on that she was pregnant. The test had merely confirmed what her body had already told her.