The Tender Stranger Read online

  He turned, scowling. "You're in no condition to go to work," he said curtly.

  She looked up, eyebrows raised. "Fudge! I'm a little shaky on my legs, that's all." She got up, daring him to stop her. "I've got a business to take care of."

  "You've got a baby to take care of," he corrected. "Call Harriett and tell her to close up when she leaves."

  She glared at him. "No."

  He shrugged and watched her pull out a slip and hose, and she thought the matter was settled.

  He waited until she started to pull the dress over her head. Then he put down his cigarette and moved forward. Before she had time to react he stripped her, quickly and deftly, and put her under the covers. Then he took her clothes, tossed them into the closet, locked the closet, and pocketed the key.

  She lay there with the covers around her neck, staring at him with eyes like saucers. It had happened so quickly, she'd had not time to retaliate.

  He picked up the phone and asked for the number of her bookstore. Blankly, she told him. He finished dialing.

  "Harriett? This is Dutch. Dani said to close up the shop when you leave. She's staying in bed today. Yes, that's right. Yes, I will." He hung up and retrieved his cigarette. "Now," he told Dani, "you'll stay right there until I say you can get up."

  "I won't!" she returned.

  "All right," he said easily, sliding one hand into his pocket. "Get up."

  She started to, remembered her unclothed condition, and sank back against the pillows. "I want my clothes."

  "You can have them tomorrow."

  "I want them now."

  "Go back to sleep. It's only nine," he said. "I'll clean up the kitchen.

  He started out of the room and she stared at him un-comprehendingly, her eyes wide and uncertain. He turned and looked at her, the cigarette in his hand sending up curls of gray smoke.

  "You're very much like Gabby," he said quietly.

  He was gone before she could reply. Was Gabby the woman in his past? she wondered miserably. She took off her glasses and turned her face into her pillow as fresh tears came. She was sure that he hated her. Why else would he have said such a thing to her?

  Eventually, she slept. It was late afternoon when she awoke, to find her clothes at the foot of the bed and a note under the pillow. Drowsily, she unfolded the paper and read it.

  You can have your clothes, but don't leave the apartment, it said in a bold black scrawl. / have gone to do some shopping. Back by five. Dutch.

  She glanced at the clock beside the bed. It was almost five now. She scrambled out of bed quickly to dress before he got back.

  When he came in, with a bag of groceries in one powerful arm, she was curled up on the sofa with her ledgers spread around her. He glared and she glared back.

  "Well, somebody has to do the paperwork," she said stubbornly. "And you won't let me do my job."

  "Tit for tat," he said carelessly. "You won't let me do mine."

  "I won't get killed selling books," she returned.

  "I like the idea of being a father now that I'm getting used to it," he said as he put down the bag on the kitchen table. "I'm not going to let you risk losing him."

  "You make me sound as if I didn't care about him at all," she snapped.

  He started putting food into the refrigerator. "Stop trying to pick fights with me," he said pleasantly. "I won't argue with you."

  "I'm not picking a fight," she said tautly. She just found it hard to believe that he was really concerned about her. She put her paperwork aside and padded into the kitchen to get something cold to drink. The heat was

  stifling, and the little air conditioner in the window was barely adequate.

  He turned, frowning at her damp skin. "Are you hot?" he asked gently. "I'll get a bigger air conditioner

  delivered."

  "No, you won't," she said stubbornly. "I like the one

  I've got."

  He took her by the arms and held her in front of him. "You won't win," he said quietly. "So stop trying. I have to go to Chicago on Monday."

  She wouldn't look up. "Work?" she asked, trying to sound as if she didn't care.

  "Work," he agreed. His hands smoothed up and down her soft arms. "I'm not making any promises."

  "Have I asked for any?" she murmured, lifting her eyes.

  "You wouldn't," he said, as if he knew. "You're too proud to ask for anything that isn't freely given." He bent and started to kiss her, but she turned her face away.

  He felt a tremor of hurt and anger go through him. His hands clenched, and he moved away from her with a new and unexpected pain eating at him.

  He sighed angrily. How the hell had she gotten so far under his skin? He wanted to throw things.

  "I'm not leaving the country," he said curtly. "An old friend of mine has opened a consulting firm. He teaches counterterrorism tactics to corporate executives. He needed someone experienced in tactics, and asked if I'd be interested." He shrugged. "So I told him yes."

  It shocked her that he'd even consider changing his profession. Did the baby mean so much? Yes, she

  thought, probably it did. There were deep scars on his heart. Perhaps he'd never truly get over them. She didn't have the beauty or the sophistication to capture his heart. It wasn't enough that he desired her. Desire was something a man could feel for almost anybody, frumpy or not.

  "It's a long way to commute," she said quietly.

  "Yes." He moved toward her, but this time he didn't come too close. He studied her, and she looked back, noticing how very tall he was, how powerfully built. He had a face a movie star would have envied—even features, dark velvet eyes, chiseled lips.

  "We discussed this a long time ago," he said. "I don't mind commuting. I think it's best, for now, that you stay here. You'd be alone a good bit of the time in Chicago, although I'm sure Gabby wouldn't mind looking in on you."

  "Gabby?" She stared at him.

  "Gabby Brettman," he said. "She's married to one of my best friends, a trial lawyer." His firm mouth relaxed into a smile. "Gabby followed J.D. through a Central American jungle with an AK-47 under one arm. She actually shot a terrorist with it and saved his life. A hell of a woman, Gabby."

  So Gabby hadn't been the woman from his past! And he admired her—he'd said that Dani was much like Gabby. She blushed.

  "Now you make the connection, is that it?" he asked softly. "For God's sake, what did you think I meant when I compared you to her?"

  Her eyes fell to his chest. "I thought...she was the

  woman who betrayed you," she said miserably, and went back to the sofa.

  "You don't read me any better than I read you," he said after a minute. "Suppose you come to Chicago with me for a few days? Meet my friends. Learn a little about me."

  The invitation excited her, but she hesitated. "I don't

  know."

  "My apartment has two bedrooms," he said icily.

  "You won't have to sleep with me."

  "I can't imagine why you'd want to," she laughed bitterly, curling up on the sofa with her ledgers. "There are a lot of pretty women in the.. .Eric!"

  He was beside her, over her, the ledgers scattered onto the floor as he pinned her down. His eyes glittered, his chest rose and fell harshly. He held her wrists over her head and looked as if he could do her violence.

  "I'd never do that to you," he said harshly. "Never! What kind of man do you think I am?"

  Tears stung her eyes. "You're hurting me," she whispered unsteadily.

  He loosened her wrists, but he didn't let go of them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, still glaring into her white face. "I've hardly done anything else, have I? I picked you up, got you pregnant, forced you into marriage without telling you the truth about myself.. .and lately all I've done is blame you for it."

  Her eyes closed. The tears ran from beneath her lids, and he caught his breath.

  "Don't cry," he said with reluctant concern. "Dani,

  don't cry. I'm sorry. Lieveling, I'm sorry, I'm
sorry..." he told her over and over again, his mouth searching across her wet cheek to her mouth. He took it gently, opening it to the moist possession of his own, while his hands freed her wrists and moved to cup her face. "Lieveling," he breathed against her mouth. His body stretched full length over hers, his forearms catching the bulk of his weight. His heart pounded, his breath came unevenly. He wanted her. He wanted her!

  She felt him begin to tremble, and against her hips she felt the helpless reaction of his body to her soft yielding. She hadn't wanted this to happen; she hadn't wanted to give in to something purely physical. But it had been months since she'd known the possession of that hard, expert body, and his mouth was driving her mad with its taunting hunger. She reached up hesitantly and slid her arms around his neck.

  "Let me have you, Dani," he murmured into her open mouth. He shifted so that his hands could ease up her dress. "Let me have you."

  She wanted to stop. But his hands were touching her

  soft body now, teasing it into reckless abandon, his

  mouth probing hers in a kiss so deep it became an act of

  intimacy in itself. Her body moved against his, her hands

  trembled and clenched on his shoulders and she moaned.

  "Yes," he said, his voice urgent now, shaking. "Yes."

  "Here... ?" she managed in a last attempt at sanity.

  "Here," he groaned, pressing her into the cushions

  with the gentle, carefully controlled weight of his body.

  "Here...!”

  It was as it had been that morning in Mexico. He was breathlessly tender with her, each motion slow and sweet and reverent. His hands trembled as they touched her, guided her. His voice was passionate as he reverted to Dutch, whispering in her ear.

  His mouth moved to hers, open and tender and trembling on her own as he began with aching tenderness to possess her.

  Her mouth opened, her eyes widened. "Eric...!"

  "Shh," he whispered huskily. He watched her as he moved, tender motions that wouldn't harm his child, arousing motions that made her gray eyes dilate, that made her heart beat wildly against his hair-matted chest.

  "Oh!" she cried out, a whisper of sound that he took into his mouth.

  "Gentle violence," he said into her parted lips. "Rock with me. Take my body, and give me yours. Be my lover now."

  "I...love you!" she whimpered helplessly. "I love you!"

  It shattered what little was left of his control, to hear her cry it out so huskily, to see it in her eyes as she looked at him with all the barriers down. His mouth crushed softly into hers and his hands held her. He heard her fluttering little cries, felt the wildness in her body, the heat of it burning his hands. He wanted to look, but it was happening for him, too, the tender explosions that were so much more terrible than the fierce passion he'd known before with women. He thought he might die....

  He was aware of her in every cell as they lay trembling

  together in the aftermath. His hands stroked along her relaxed body, feeling its softness in a kind of dazed reality.

  "Dani?" he whispered as his eyes opened and he saw the back of the sofa.

  "Yes." Her voice sounded like velvet.

  "I...didn't meant to do it," he said hesitantly. "I didn't plan it."

  "I know." She kissed him. Her lips touched his eyes, his eyebrows, his straight nose, his cheeks, his mouth, his chin.

  He loved the softness of her mouth on his face. His eyes closed, so that she could kiss his eyelids, too. He smiled, feeling sated, loved. Profound, he thought dizzily. This, with her, was so much more than a brief merging of bodies. His hands touched her belly and felt his child move.

  He laughed softly, delightedly. "He kicks," he whispered. "No more bird flutters."

  "He's very strong, the doctor says," she whispered back.

  He lifted his head and looked at her, at the tiny line of freckles over her nose. Sometime in the last feverish few minutes her glasses had been removed. He glanced around and saw them on the coffee table and smiled.

  "I'd forgotten where we were." He sighed, kissing her again. His hands slid up her sides, and his thumbs moved over her breasts, feeling their swollen softness. "Will you let me watch you nurse him?" he asked lazily, and laughed when she blushed. "Will you?"

  "Yes," she said, and buried her red face against his

  throat.

  He kissed her forehead, her closed eyes. "Dani, is it gentle explosions for you, the way it is for me?" he asked hesitantly. "Do you feel what the French call the little death when the moment comes?"

  Her breath caught. "Yes," she whispered. She clung to him. "I didn't know..."

  "It was never like that for me," he told her softly, and his arms slid further around her. "Never, with anyone, the way it is with you." He shuddered.

  Yes, but it was only physical, she thought miserably, and closed her eyes. Still, it was better than nothing. She smoothed the hair at his nape. It was a start.

  THEY WENT TO CHICAGO on Monday, after Dutch had taken time to call Dr. Carter to make sure it was safe for Dani to make the trip. He watched her closely, with narrowed dark eyes, every step she took. It was almost amusing, the care he was taking of her. Amusing.. .and very flattering. Perhaps he was growing fond of her, at least. He hadn't loved her again. Afterward, he'd been protective and gentle, but he hadn't touched her as a lover. She wondered why, but she didn't provoke him by asking. She'd long since decided to take one day at a time, to accept what he could give without asking for more. Somehow she'd learn to live with him. Because she couldn't leave him now.

  CHAPTER NINE

  DANI WASN'T SURE WHAT she'd expected Dutch's friends to look like. But when she was introduced to J.D. and Gabby Brettman and Apollo Blain, her face must have given her away.

  "Yep—" Apollo nodded as he shook her shyly outstretched hand "—I told you, J.D., she expected us to look like the cover of Soldier of Fortune magazine."

  Dani blushed and burst out laughing. "Well, I've never seen professional mercenaries before," she explained. "Anyway, at least I didn't come in looking for camouflage netting, did I?" she asked reasonably.

  Apollo chuckled. "Nope, little mama, I guess not."

  She lowered her eyes with a self-conscious smile, feeling Dutch's arm come around her shoulders.

  "Animals." Gabby glared at the men. "Shame on you."

  "Well, we're curious," J.D. said defensively. He studied Dani through eyes as dark as Dutch's. All three men were wearing lightweight suits, and Gabby was in a green-patterned dress. Dani felt as though she stood out like a sort thumb in her maternity garb.

  "Of course we are," Apollo seconded. "After all, it took some kind of woman to catch Dutch, didn't it?"

  "I won't argue with that." Gabby grinned. "Come on, Dani, you can help me in the kitchen while these three

  talk shop."

  "I think I'd better," Dani confided, throwing an impish smile at Dutch. "At least 1 know a potato from a head of lettuce, even if I don't know an AK-47 from an Uzi." Dutch smiled at her, possession in his whole look. She followed Gabby into the kitchen. "What can I do?" Dani asked helpfully.

  "You can tell me how you did it!" Gabby burst out delightedly, smiling from a radiant face. "Dutch, married! Honestly, J.D. and I almost fainted!"

  "It's a long story," Dani murmured dryly, sensing a comrade in Gabby. She sat down at the kitchen table. "It isn't love, though, you know," she added quietly.

  Gabby studied her. "For you it is. Yes, it shows. Are you happy with him?"

  "As happy as I can expect to be," Dani said. "I can't hope to hold him, of course. He's very protective, and he wants the baby. But it isn't in him to love."

  Gabby poured two cups of coffee, checked the timer on

  her microwave and sat back down. She pushed a mug of

  black coffee toward Dani and offered the cream and sugar.

  "You know about Melissa?" she asked after a minute.

  Dani knew instinctively whom she meant
. "The

  woman from his past?"

  Gabby nodded. "I wouldn't know, but Dutch was badly wounded once, and he blurted out the whole story to J.D. Dutch doesn't know," she added, lifting her eyes to Dam's. "J.D. didn't let on. But that woman...!"

  "He told me all of it," Dani said quietly, sipping her coffee. "He was devastated when he found out I was pregnant."

  "Did you know what he did for a living when you married him?" Gabby asked.

  Dani smiled ruefully and shook her head. "I found out when the airplane we were coming home on was

  hijacked."

  Gabby forced air through her lips. "What an interesting way to find out."

  "Yes." She lowered her eyes to her cup. "He thought we could make a go of it, each leading our own lives. I didn't. I walked off and left him." She sighed. "Several weeks later I learned that I was pregnant. He came back...." She laughed. "We've been going around and around ever since."

  "I remember the first time I ever heard of Dutch," Gabby recalled. "J.D.'s sister Martina had been captured by terrorists and we went to Italy to see about the ransom. Dutch was J.D.'s go-between." She looked up. "J.D. wouldn't even introduce me to him. He said Dutch hated women."

  "He told me so," Dani said, smiling. "When did you get to meet him?"

  "At the wedding, when I married J.D. He wasn't at all what I expected. At first I was a little nervous around him," Gabby said. "Then I got to know him— as well as he lets outsiders know him." She held Dani's curious eyes. "He talked to me about you when he was

  here before. He wanted to know how I'd feel if I were pregnant and J.D. couldn't give up the old life. I cried." Dani drew in a shaky breath. "I've done my share of crying. I don't know what to do. I don't feel that I have the right to ask him to change his life for me. But I can't live with what he does." Her eyes were wide with fear and love. "I'm crazy about him. I'd die if anything happened to him."

  "That's how I feel about J.D.," Gabby said quietly. "I envy you that baby," she added with a sad smile. "J.D. and I have tried..." Her thin shoulders rose and fell. "I can't seem to get pregnant."