Nanny (33 page)

“I thought you were just being a jerk.” Summer laughed softly. “For a jerk, you had a world-class butt and abs to die for.”

“You looked? You made such a big deal about ignor-ing me.”

She'd looked, all right. No woman alive could have ignored that amazing body. Even Mother Teresa would have stolen a quick peek. “So sue me. What happens now that we know each other's deep, dark secrets?”

“Nothing. It's enough to know, and feel safe that someone else knows. It's about trusting, not necessarily about doing.”

Another arrow zinged deep into Summer's heart.

“Smart guy.” She slid her leg across Gabe's body. “If I had any strength left, I might just—”

Gabe cut her off, frowning as a dark shape moved out of the snow. “Hell.”

“What?”

“We've got company.”

Summer stared over his shoulder. “Just a snowplow. See, he's turning in the opposite direction. Life has to go on, I suppose.”

“Not for me,” Gabe muttered. “I may just change my address to the backseat of this car.”

“Good plan.” She collapsed against him, scattering provoking kisses over his chest until he pulled her down and stilled her with a tongue-to-tongue, openmouthed kiss that started the whole dizzy madness all over again.

 

An hour later Gabe could barely move and his knee hurt, but he'd never felt so alive in his life. He owed it all to Summer.

Not because she didn't have a clue how graceful, gorgeous, and sensual she was. Not even because of her focus and intensity, which he found more sexually arousing than any low-cut lingerie.

It was because of the bond that had grown, unshakable between them. Because of their trust. Either way, it added up to a four-letter word he hadn't had the courage to use for years.

His parents' marriage had been rock stable for fifty years, and they'd held hands right up to the day his father had died of a massive heart attack. Gabe had figured they were some kind of freak of nature and had long ago stopped hoping to find the same kind of intensity in a relationship. The women he met usually wanted a few drinks and a night of gritty sex, no strings attached.

And when they waved good-bye, Gabe had always felt a sense of relief.

But Summer had stirred a different reaction right from the start. He'd needed to know more about her, wanted to get closer, from the second he'd seen her glaring at him outside the shower.

She wasn't bouncy and perky. Her nose was slightly crooked, her shoulders were a little too wide, and she had a mouth that could raise welts. But he found her blindingly irresistible. The sex was incredible, too, but this went way beyond sex. Staring into the darkness, Gabe smiled.

Her eyes were closed, and her breath skimmed his cheek as she slept, curved against his chest. Even the slightest friction of her thigh against his groin rocketed down to his growing erection.

It was happening again. She made him feel fifteen again, awash in hormones and sheer lust.

But she had to be tender after all they'd done. Ignoring his need, he pulled the blanket over them and drifted off to sleep while snow whispered muted promises in the night.

 

“You asleep?”

“Mmnrah.”

“Summer?”

“Wmmmm.”

Gabe shifted her sleepy body, peering through the gray, predawn light.

A motor raced nearby.

Gabe pulled the blanket up over her breasts. “We've got company.”

“G'way. Not on duty,” she rasped.

He almost smiled. What had happened to the 24/7 work-obsessed field agent he'd met a few months ago? “It's Gabe, honey, not work.”

“Gowaywannasleep.”

The blanket twisted free, hitched across her shoulder. Her lovely breasts glinted up at him in the dawn light.

Cursing, Gabe covered her up, then reached for his pants. “I think you need to wake up, here.”

Sighing, she pulled the pillow over her head.

Gabe dug under the seat and found his jeans. After digging through more clothes and Summer's dropped cell phone, he found the weapon he'd stashed during the night. Not that he expected trouble, but Gabe had learned that trouble usually came when you had your pants down.

Metaphorically speaking.

Car lights flashed through the swirling snow, and a voice drifted toward him.

Gabe eased the gun into his palm as a figure loomed out of the snow, bending toward the window.

Gloved hands brushed off a wedge of snow, and dark eyes flashed in a dark face. “Damn it, Morgan, don't you ever answer that overpriced cell phone I gave you?”

chapter
42

A
s snow piled up on the windows, Gabe cursed softly. The expensive cell phone in question now showed six missed calls.

Leave it to Izzy to track him down in the middle of the season's biggest snowstorm.

After checking to be certain that Summer's blanket was secure, Gabe rolled down the window. “Sorry, didn't hear your calls. Things got a little hectic.” He cleared his throat. “With the storm and all.”

“The windows look pretty fogged up, pal.”

“Stow it, Izzy. What's the emergency, did some D.C. bureaucrat misplace a box of paper clips and trigger an audit?”

“That was last week,” Izzy said dryly. “This morning I got a call from Senator Winslow. He was upset when you and Summer didn't show up at the motel last night, so he called the local police, in case you were stranded in the snow. But the police hadn't seen you, which made him even more worried. That's when he called me.”

“False alarm. As you can see, we're both fine.”

“Summer's in there with you?” Izzy's head tilted slightly as he took a step closer.

“Back off, partner,” Gabe growled.

“No need to shout.”

“Who the hell's shouting?”

“You were.” Izzy tried to hide a smile. “They probably heard you over in Casper. Besides, I can't see anything in there because it's too dark.” He muttered something that sounded like “damned shame, too.”

Gabe grunted as snow whirled through the window and dusted his shirt. “Something else on your mind?”

“Wanna tell me why you're parked out here when there's a decent motel right over that hill?”

“Not really. Anything else?”

“In case you forgot, the wedding is supposed to start in a few hours.” Izzy crossed his arms. “The girls have been asking for Summer.”

Gabe closed his eyes, rubbing his neck. “That late already?”

“Afraid so.”

Where had the night gone? “What I wouldn't give for some stomach-scouring black coffee right now.”

A steaming cup appeared at the window.

“I'm not even going to ask how you did that.” Gabe took the cup gratefully. “But God bless you and Mrs. Starbucks, wherever she might be.”

“No Starbucks open in two hundred miles, not with this snow. I made it myself. Any complaints, keep them to yourself.”

“No complaints from me.” Gabe took a sip of the strong, steamy brew and sighed. “Nice job, Teague. You're going to make some lucky woman a fine, strapping husband one of these days.” He ducked the punch aimed at him through the window. “You waiting for something else? I'm on officially authorized leave, in case it escaped your notice.”

“I'm well aware of that.” Izzy cleared his throat as Summer muttered in her sleep. “As it happens, Senator Winslow asked me to hang around and escort you two to the ranch. The snow is pretty bad along the last stretch of interstate north of town.”

So the world was about to come roaring back to life.

Gabe frowned at his coffee. He was insanely proud of Summer for the difficult job she had carried out. He knew that her sense of duty was just as inviolable as his was. But he was going to see that she took more time off. He even had the perfect plan for how she was going to spend it.

In the backseat of a Jeep Grand Cherokee, blowing off the top of his head and making him thank his ragtag team of guardian angels for seeing that he got the stupid assignment of protecting a senator and his fiancée.

Meanwhile, Izzy was waiting and Gabe's cell phone was blinking with a text message. There would be no more delays, no more holding the world at bay.

No more reckless sex in the back of a Jeep.

“Understood, Teague. You can go on ahead.”

“No can do. I'll just hang right here, freezing my butt in the snow while you finish waking up.”

“Do you have any idea how obnoxious you are?”

Izzy's lips twitched. “They tell me it's a gift.”

Gabe tugged on his sweater and boots, then swung open the door and turned to glare at Izzy. “If a word—even a syllable—about any of this gets out, you are history, Teague. She's had enough razzing from those chimp-brains back at her field office.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“They better be.” Gabe handed back his empty cof-fee cup and slid into the front seat. “We're going to the motel to clean up. We'll be out in twenty minutes. You can follow us, if you feel the necessity.” Gabe slammed his door and revved the motor. When he looked out, Izzy was standing in the snow, chuckling. “You still there, Teague?”

“Hell, yes. I wouldn't miss
this
for the world.”

chapter
43

W
hat happened to my other earring?”

 “Right here, Mom.”

 “Now I've lost my
shoes.
”

“They're over here.” Sophy giggled at her sister. The girls had never seen their cool, efficient mother looking so giddy and distracted, and they were secretly thrilled. Cara's face was flushed and she looked radiant.

But her hands were shaking.

“Relax, Mom.” Audra patted her mother on the shoulder and handed her the missing pair of sinfully beautiful Jimmy Choo pumps. “You look great. Uncle Tate is going to swallow his tongue when he sees you.”

Sophy giggled. “He told me last night that you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. And me and Audra are next,” she added proudly.

“I, not me,” Audra corrected. But she nodded calmly. “He's right. So stop worrying about everything, Mom. Sophy and I are fine, your wedding's gonna be totally cool, and Summer and Gabe should be here any minute.”

“I still don't understand what happened to them.” Anxiously, Cara brushed the soft curls that trailed from beneath a spray of bright pink roses. “They should have been able to find the motel last night.”

“Maybe they didn't want to.” Audra smiled knowingly at the driveway, where an SUV had appeared amid swirling snow. “They were probably a little distracted.”

“You mean, they stopped to kiss?” Sophy studied her sister intently. “Maybe they wanted to have phone sex?”

“Sophia Marie O'Connor!” Cara looked shocked. “What in the world do you know about phone sex?”

“Not very much,” Sophy said wistfully. “No one will talk about it with me. I asked Gabe, and he told me I'd find out soon enough. Uncle Tate told me to ask you, and Audra just tells me to shut up because I'm still a kid.”

“Well, you are,” Audra snapped. “You wouldn't understand, anyway.”

“I know all about thongs.” Sophy glared defiantly at her sister.

Cara breathed a prayer for guidance and stopped searching for her lost glove. “Darling, we're going to have a talk, you and I. We'll talk about anything you want, all right? Even . . .” She grimaced. “Even phone sex.”

Audra started to giggle, and then Sophy joined in. Within seconds all three were laughing, until they collapsed together on the sofa.

“You'll ruin your dress,” Audra managed to say.

“Oh, phooey on my dress. It seems like forever since we've had a good laugh together.” Suddenly Cara looked down at Sophy. “Did you find your new pink shoes, honey? I thought I saw them in the bottom of your suitcase.”

“Oh, no, everything's fine, Mom. My shoes are cool.” Sophy squirmed off the sofa and shot toward the door. “I hear Summer and Gabe downstairs!”

As she spoke, there was a knock on the door. “Anyone in here getting married?”

At Sophy's burst of laughter, Summer opened the door wearing a parka and hiking boots. Snowflakes dotted her hair, and her cheeks were bright.

“You came!” Sophy hurtled toward her. “See my new dress? I even get to wear earrings. Little ones, that is. Where's your dress?”

Summer gave Sophy a hug, then held up a big box. “I'm ready to rock and roll.”

Audra studied Summer's face, noted the flush, and looked pleased. “I take it that Gabe found you.”

Summer cleared her throat. “He's with Senator Winslow now, getting dressed. I could probably use some help, too.”

“Sophy, get all our stuff from the bathroom. Mom's done, so now we can start working on Ms. M.”

Sophy shot off.
“Cool.”

 

As snow swirled around the big picture windows, no one talked about Tate's mother or Patrick Flanagan, or how death had stalked this house one day at the end of summer. But the memories hung in the air like spiderwebs, invisible and chilling.

In the weeks following Amanda's death, Tate Winslow had announced he would not pursue his bid for the presidency. For two years Amanda Winslow had hidden her deteriorating state from her family and friends, and Cara was convinced the experimental medications had hastened her decline.

But Summer refused to think about death as Sophy opened the big box on Cara's bed. The dress she'd chosen for the wedding was long and full, rich silk that made her skin glow. When she looked at the matching shoes with four-inch heels, Summer winced. Running shoes were more her style, and she prayed she wouldn't disgrace herself by falling onto her face when the ceremony began.

A few minutes later she was transformed, trying to keep from toppling in her killer Jimmy Choo satin mules.

“Wow,” Sophy whispered.

“Sheesh.” Audra gave a long, silent whistle.

“You look lovely,” Cara said.

Summer tugged at the front of her dress, which was lower than she had realized in the store. “I don't know,” she said uneasily. “If I bend over, everything will—what I mean is, it would be a disaster.”

“Then don't bend over,” Cara said with a mischievous smile. “Not unless you're with Gabe. Otherwise there will be a stampede by the men in the room. By the way, give Gabe our love.”

Summer felt heat fill her cheeks. Were her feelings so transparent?

But as she stood tottering in her four-inch heels, she felt something loosen inside her, stirring on powerful wings, weightless like the reckless teenager she had never had time to become after her father's death, and she wanted to knock Gabe silly with his first sight of her. She didn't care if the whole world knew.

She smoothed her dress, delighting in the feel of the silk against her skin. She couldn't wait to see Gabe's reaction.

The chords of an organ drifted up the stairs. “Time to go.” Cara's voice wavered. “I love you two so much.”

“You look beautiful, Mom. I mean, really, really.” Sophy's grin threatened to swallow her young face. “I heard Uncle Tate tell his brother if there were any more delays, he was going to kidnap you and make you elope with him. He said he was in major perpetual pain, whatever that meant.”

Audra swallowed a giggle, and Sophy's smile faltered. “If you eloped, could we go, too?”

Cara held her daughter tightly. “You bet. We'd all sneak away together. We'd make it a big adventure.”

But Audra just sighed. “Come on, Mom, you and Uncle Tate don't need us hanging around. You've got better things to do on your honeymoon than babysit.”

Sophy's head tilted. “A honeymoon—that's like phone sex only better. Right?”

Half-giggling, half-sniffing back tears, Cara hugged both her daughters. “Close enough, honey. Someday you'll understand, believe me. Just don't be in too big of a rush, okay? I don't want you leaving for a long, long time.” Her voice broke. “I'm so sorry if things have been rocky these last few years. I'm sorry you lost your dad and I'm sorry about the way he . . . changed. Most of all, I'm sorry about my job, my crazy hours, about not being with you all the time.”

“Don't worry about that stuff,” Audra said calmly. “We turned out fine. Besides, you do really important work. Sophy and I are cool with that, aren't we, Sophy?”

“Sure. We're completely cool at that.”

Audra looked at her sister. “
With,
not
at.
”

“With what?”

Audra shook her head. “Never mind. I'll explain later.”

“You're both growing up too fast. One day I'll turn around and it will be you two getting married and I won't be able to bear it.”

“You'll never lose us, Mom,” Sophy said. “We'll come back to eat and do our laundry and—well, probably to borrow money and ask for legal advice and job references. All kinds of stuff.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Sophy wrinkled her nose. “Besides, there's no way I'm ever getting married. No boy is going to stick his nasty tongue down my throat, and Tiffany Hammersmith says that boys always want to do that when you go steady. Does Uncle Tate want to do that to
you
?”

Reproduction 101, Cara thought. She shared a glance with Audra, who couldn't resist a smile.

“Ummm—we'll talk about that soon, honey, I promise.”

Organ music rose in a crescendo, echoing up the grand timber staircase. Clearly it was time Cara had a long discussion with her younger daughter. But first she had a wedding to attend.

One that had been delayed far too long.

“How about we go see how handsome Uncle Tate looks? Ready, Summer?”

“My service revolver is loaded, and my handcuffs are ready. Let's go track down some poor, unsuspecting males and knock them dead with our brains and stunning good looks.” She rolled her eyes. “But let's do it fast. These shoes are killing me already.”

As Sophy giggled, Audra straightened her shoulders. “I think brains are more important than beauty, don't you, Mother?”

“Definitely. The body will sag, but if you start with brains, you end with brains. No need for a lift or a tuck or toxic bacterial injections.” Cara linked her arm through Audra's.

“I always wanted to get married during a snowstorm,” she said softly.

“Not me. I'm going to get married on a beach in Tahiti.” Audra sniffed. “But he has to know how to cook and do dishes and give back rubs, too.”

“Excellent idea,” Summer muttered.

“Does Gabe cook well?” Cara's eyes twinkled. “And give good . . . back rubs?”

“He has a number of endearing traits.”

“So it wasn't just his superior landscaping skills that caught your eye?” Cara teased.

“No comment. I'm saying nothing that could be used against me in a court of law.”

Audra sniggered, and Sophy giggled, their laughter spilling together in a rich cadence of age and youth, innocence and experience. For now, the shadow of Amanda Winslow and her madness was finally lifted.

 

Tate paced the foyer impatiently. The snow was picking up again, and any guests who hadn't made it to the ranch by now were flat out of luck.

That suited him just fine. The junior senator from California wanted to get this ceremony over pronto, so he could go make love to his wife for five or six days. He had wanted that since the first moment he'd set eyes on Cara back in law school, but a career and heavy family expectations had made him miss the chance. But Cara wasn't getting away again. They were going to be a family, damn it.

Unaware of his scowl, Tate strode through the living room, passing two old neighbors, his brother, and a lobbyist friend from Washington. Nearby were Cara's sister, her husband, and their children. He managed to summon up a smile before nodding at the organist, who broke into the opening bars of the wedding march.

It was time to get this show on the road.

Tate headed for the downstairs study, where Gabe was slipping his last cuff link into place. The SEAL looked unusually pleased with himself, and Tate was certain it had to do with Summer. If his instincts were right, their night in the SUV had resolved most of the questions between them.

At least, Tate hoped so. There wasn't a woman better suited to this tough, seasoned soldier than Summer. Maybe Gabe's bitter memories would finally be laid to rest, Tate thought.

On the far side of the room, he saw Izzy Teague speaking quietly on a high-tech cell phone and looking very elegant in an Armani suit. He also looked fully alert and ready for a guerrilla raid at any second.

With operatives like Summer, Izzy, and Gabe present, the wedding would be safe from any and all intruders, Tate thought wryly. Now if only the bride would deign to put in an appearance.

He was about to send Gabe up to reconnoiter when he heard Sophy's laughter from the top of the stairs, followed by Cara's husky questions. Suddenly he was caught on a wave of panic. What if Cara got bored with him? What if the girls thought he made a bad father? What if he was too busy, too old, too cynical?

Tate Winslow, the most popular senator in America, a man who made four-star generals quake and Beltway journalists squirm, felt sweat beading his brow.

What if he was a failure at the things that really mattered, like love and commitment and family?

He turned to face the doorway, dimly aware of Gabe moving to stand on one side of him and his brother on the other. Izzy waited nearby, his handsome face set in an easy grin. “A very beautiful lady is waiting for you out there.” Izzy glanced outside. “Correction, Senator. Make that three beautiful ladies.”

Organ music filled the room, but Tate couldn't seem to move. He wanted to give Cara the sun, moon, and stars, but what if he failed her? What if his murderous eighteen-hour days and nonstop meetings made her—

Gabe touched his shoulder. “Senator, I believe that organ music was your cue.”

Tate took a deep breath. He loved Cara, had loved her for years. He'd make damned sure they had another thirty or so more years of arguing and laughing and driving each other crazy. Only a fool would ruin a future like that because of
maybe
s or
what if
s
.

And Tate Winslow had never been a fool.

He smoothed his lapels and looked at his three best men. “Thank you all for being here, for helping Cara and me through these last difficult months. Even if the rest of the world won't ever know the truth, you three will, and your support means everything to us.” He cleared his throat. “Now it's time for me to go marry the woman I've loved forever.”

And he walked outside.

The first thing he saw was Audra, looking very grown-up in a long dress of pink satin. Beside her, Sophy's face was full of light as she carried a small basket of roses and baby's breath. Finally there was Cara, tall and radiant and nervous as he was.

Tate saw nothing else in the room after that, only Cara's smile.

They were a family, he thought, struck dumb with awe. At times this moment had seemed like an impossible hope, but now it was as real as the snow leaving white tracks against the windows.