Running Blind (17 page)

“Yeah, but every day doesn't have a hand grenade–tossing motorcyclist in it.”

“Or a gunman.”

“That's exactly my point. If the Panthers were really after you, you'd have died in Mexico.”

“That's a cheerful thought.”

“You survived. You made it over the border. You spent five
days in a hospital, two days in a hotel and nothing happened. No gunmen lurking in shadows. No bombs. No knife attacks. There are a thousand ways you could have been killed and probably several dozen opportunities to do it, but you were left alone.”

“Until the day of Magdalena's funeral.”

“Right. She's buried and then you're attacked three times in two days. Why?”

“If I knew that, this would all be over and I'd be sitting at home, Dante warming my feet.”

“You'll be there soon, Jen.” He patted her knee, let his hand settle there.

She didn't move away, didn't even try to pretend that she didn't want the connection as much as he did.

For a moment, silence enveloped them both. Then Jenna placed her hand over his so that their fingers twined. “In case I don't get another chance to say it, Nikolai, I think I'm doing exactly what I didn't want to do.”

“What's that?”

“Falling for you.” She squeezed his hand, released it.

“Should I be upset about that?”

“No, but I probably should be.”

“Why?”

“Because when this is over, I'll go back to my life and you'll go back to yours, and my life will feel a whole lot emptier than it did when you were in it,” she said.

“Who says I won't be in it?”

“Isn't that the way these things always go? People meet under the most extraordinary of circumstances. They fall for each other. They have a brief and volatile relationship, and then it's over.”

“Brief and volatile, huh?”

“Oh, come on, I'm sure you've watched enough movies to know it's true.”

“I'm not much of a movie buff. I prefer to live my life rather than to watch fictional lives play out on-screen.” He pulled up
in front of the Romero house, letting the car idle as he turned to face Jenna.

She'd closed her eyes again, and if Nikolai hadn't known better, he would have thought she was asleep.

“Jen?”

“Yeah?” She looked into his eyes, her gaze hazy with pain and fatigue.

“I'm not comfortable leaving you here. I don't like John, and I don't trust him.”

“And?”

“How about we pack your things and move you to my place?”

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I already told you. You and me alone in your apartment just doesn't seem right.”

“We're not kids, Jen. I think we can handle it for a night.”

“I'm sure we can, but I'm not sure we should.”

“You've spent the night in John's house.”

“John isn't you.” She blushed, her cheeks going bright pink.

“Okay. So, I'll stay here. If he's really an upstanding citizen and good friend, I'm sure John will be willing to put your bodyguard up for the night.”

“Bodyguard? You're kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I am?”

“I can't tell. Only one of my eyes is working well.”

“You're losing your vision again? I'd better call the doctor.” He pulled out his cell phone, but Jenna put a hand on his arm.

“I'm fine. It's just part of the whole migraine thing.”

“You're sure?” He put a hand on her forehead, felt cool, dry skin.

“Yes. I'll just take some medicine and lie down for a while.” She seemed to have forgotten his comment about being her
bodyguard, and he didn't bother bringing it up again. He knew what needed to be done to keep her safe, and he had every intention of doing it.

He walked her around to the side of the house, taking keys from her fumbling fingers and opening the door to the guest suite. The lights were off, and he kept them that way, leading her into the bedroom and watching as she threw herself facedown onto the bed.

“Where's your medicine?”

“On the table near the sofa.” She didn't bother lifting her head as she spoke, and the words were mumbled through fabric and pillow.

He found the bottle where she'd left it, tipped a pill into his hand and grabbed a glass of water. By the time he returned to the room, Jenna had kicked off her shoes and was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She took the pill, gulping down the water and setting the glass on a bedside table. Then she eased back down onto the bed and turned her face back into the pillow.

Nikolai should have left then, but something held him in place. Maybe it was the sight of silky red hair lying against the white pillowcase. Maybe it was the fragility of Jenna's shoulders and back, the too-thin curve of her hip and thigh. She looked vulnerable, like someone who could easily be broken. Not just physically, but emotionally.

She must have sensed his gaze. She turned her head, eyeing him with a scowl that would have sent tougher men running.

“Just so you know, Nikolai. I may be crazy enough to fall for you, but I'm not crazy enough to let you see me at my worst. Go do something, because I can't moan and groan and cry with you hovering beside the bed.”

“Is that what you're planning to do?” he asked, running his knuckles down her cheek, and smiling again when she shivered in response.

“I haven't decided yet. Now, go away so I can think about it.” She turned her face to the pillow again, dismissing him with a finality he couldn't ignore.

He grabbed a throw from the end of the bed, placed it over Jenna and left the room.

Left the room, but he wouldn't go far.

There was no way he'd leave Jenna alone there. There'd already been three attempts on her life. Four if he counted the one in Mexico. He intended to make sure he was around if whoever was trying to kill her tried again.

He pulled out his cell phone, walking to the door and stepping outside. He didn't have a laptop and couldn't do much by way of research, but he could make some phone calls. Maybe Skylar had discovered something that would help clear up the case. One way or another, Nikolai would keep digging, keep searching. Eventually, he'd find the truth. He could only pray that he could keep Jenna safe until he did.

J
enna woke with a start, her heart racing, the sound of a ringing phone sinking into her consciousness.

She stumbled from the bedroom, grabbing the receiver and pressing it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Jenna? It's John. I thought I'd call and check in since you didn't make it to the park this morning. Is everything okay?”

“There was a problem when Nikolai and I went to breakfast.” She filled him in quickly, searching the living room for Nikolai. He was gone. Which shouldn't have disappointed her, but did.

“Wow! That's crazy. Did they find the guy?”

“Not yet.” At least she didn't think they had. She pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through the incoming calls, hoping to find one from the police. There wasn't one.

“Well, I'm glad you're okay. I was worried. You and Magdalena were such good friends, and I know she'd want me to treat you like the sister she always felt you were.”

“I appreciate that, John. Is Ben still asking for her?”

“Yes. I think he will be for a while. They were really close, the two of them. He was Magdalena's shadow.”

“I remember. Everywhere she went, he was right on her heels.” The memories made Jenna smile, and she walked across the room, closing curtains to prevent light from spilling into the room. Despite the medicine she'd taken, her head was
still throbbing, and the sunlight was like a hot poker stabbing into her eyes.

“Yeah. I was second best when she was around, but I didn't mind. She was a great mother and deserved all the affection.”

A soft tap sounded on the exterior door, and Jenna swung toward it, a scream catching in her throat as it opened.

“Jen? Is everything okay?” John asked as Nikolai stepped into the room.

“Fine. Nikolai just walked in, and I was distracted.”

“I see.”

“See what?”

“You two are moving pretty fast, aren't you?”

“I'm not sure that's any of your business.” Surprised, Jenna met Nikolai's gaze, wondering if he'd heard John's comment.

He mouthed John's name, and she nodded.

“I suppose it's not. As I said, though, Magdalena would have wanted me to look out for you, and, to be honest, I'm not that fond of your new friend.”

“I don't think he's very fond of you, either.”

“I got that impression. Though I'm not sure what I did to offend him.” The comment begged a response, but Jenna refused to give one.

“I'm really sorry that I missed spending time at the park with your family, John. I hope Ben wasn't too disappointed.”

“He's three. His disappointments don't last long.”

“Still, I would have loved to spend time with him. We've got so little time left before I return home.”

“That reminds me. I had another reason for calling. Magdalena's lawyer called while I was at the park. He needs to postpone the reading of the will until tomorrow afternoon. There's been an emergency in the family, and he has to be out of town for the night.”

“I hope everyone is all right.”

“His son broke a collarbone during a hockey match but should recover fully.”

“I'm glad to hear it, but sorry the reading has been postponed. My plane leaves in the morning, and I plan to be on it.”

“I can have the ticket switched for you. I'm sure the airline will understand the extenuating circumstances.”

“They might, but it's not something I'm willing to do.” She'd had enough of Houston. Enough of intrigue and danger. She wanted to go home to her safe and predictable life, and she could only pray that when she did danger wouldn't follow her there.

“It would have meant so much to Magdalena,” he said. It was the same argument he'd used the previous day, but this time it didn't sway Jenna. She'd loved her friend, but she couldn't continue to put herself in danger for someone who was already safe in the arms of the Lord.

“I know, and I wish I could be here for it, but I can't.”

“Give it some more thought. You have nearly fifteen hours before your plane leaves. Maybe you'll change your mind.”

Before she could respond, Nikolai pulled the phone from her hand and pressed it to his ear. “John, it's Nikolai. I'm sure Jenna told you about the morning she's had.”

He paused, his dark eyes staring into Jenna's as he listened to John's reply.

“Yes. I understand your point, but Jenna is ready to go home. She's made that abundantly clear, and I think you'd be wise not to pressure her about it.” He crooked his finger, urging Jenna to move closer to the phone.

She did, stepping into his arms and leaning her head toward the phone so she could clearly hear John's words.

“I can't say I blame her. The past week has been pretty harrowing. Are you two still planning to come for dinner, or is she too worn out?”

Nikolai raised an eyebrow, and Jenna nodded.

“We'll be there.”

“Great. I'll see you around five. Sorry it's going to be early, but Ben goes to bed at seven.”

“No problem. We'll see you then.” Nikolai disconnected, holding the phone in his hand for a long moment before he placed it back in the cradle.

“Pretty fancy, this,” he said.

“What?”

“You're in the same house, but he uses a phone to communicate.”

“It's a good way to give his guests privacy.”

“True. Feeling better?” he asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her against his side. Being there felt so good, so natural that Jenna didn't even pretend she wanted to move away.

She'd told him that she thought she was falling for him, but that had been a lie. She'd already fallen, and she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to get back up.

“A little. Was I out for long?”

“A couple of hours.”

“It felt like minutes.”

“You needed the rest.” His hand smoothed up her back and down again, and it was all she could do not to snuggle close, let herself imagine that what they had could last.

“Did you go back to your place?”

“I was outside. I had a few phone calls to make.”

“Should I ask to whom?”

“A colleague of mine was doing some research for me. I asked her to question some of Magdalena's college and high school friends.”

“And?”

“There wasn't a person among the group who had anything negative to say. Magdalena was well-liked and admired by her peers.”

“I could have told you that was what they'd say.”

“There were a few things that came up, though.”

“What?” She moved away, wanting to face him full-on when he told her what could only be bad news.

“Two of her high school friends had contact with her several times a month and felt they knew her well. Both said they'd been concerned about her in the months preceding the trip to Mexico. According to them, she hadn't seemed like herself. I was wondering if you had the same feeling.”

Had she?

With everything that had happened in the past week, Jenna hadn't spent much time thinking about the weeks and months preceding the mission trip. But there
had
been some things that had seemed off. A few instances when Magdalena hadn't returned calls or e-mails. A couple of conversations in which she'd mentioned being overwhelmed and tired. That hadn't been typical of Magdalena, but it also hadn't seemed overly alarming.

“She did seem more tense than usual. I chalked it up to the scope of the trip. She was doubling the number of medical professionals who were working at the clinic, and she increased the time in the country by a week.”

“Did she say why?”

“The need was always greater than her capacity to meet it, but she felt she had to try.” Those had been her exact words, and Jenna could still hear Magdalena's voice saying them.

“What about when she was in Mexico?”

“She was tired, but excited to be there.”

“So, she didn't seem tense or unhappy while she was there?”

“No, but there were a couple of times when she seemed…sad. I asked her if something was wrong, but she insisted that she was just tired. Maybe I should have pushed for more of an answer.”

“If she did have something on her mind, you couldn't have known how serious it might be.”

“You're right, but that doesn't make me feel any better.”
She sighed, walking into the kitchen and rinsing out the coffee pot. “Want some coffee?”

“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of lunch.”

“We just ate.”

“Hours ago. I need to refuel.”

“There's food in the fridge. Want me to make you something?”

“You make your coffee. I'll see what there is to eat.” He walked into the kitchen, taking up much more than his fair share of space. Jenna couldn't move without bumping into him, and by the time she had coffee brewing, her cheeks were flaming.

“You look flushed. You're not sick, are you?” Nikolai pressed a cool palm to her cheek, and that was it. Just one touch and Jenna was lost, her heart racing, her skin tingling. She tried to step back, her hip banging into the counter, her lungs expanding to take in more of Nikolai's masculine scent.

She wanted to lean closer, wanted to run away.

She put her hand up, pressing it against his chest. She meant to hold him at a distance, meant to tell him that they needed to slow down and think things through, but his skin was warm through his T-shirt, his heart beating strong and steady beneath her palm.

“Jen?” It was a question and a request. It was Nikolai, being Nikolai, giving her every opportunity to pull them both out of the fire they were about to fall into.

But she didn't.

His hand moved from her cheek to her neck, his fingers skimming along the tender flesh beneath her jaw. And then he was bending down, his lips brushing hers, tasting her fear and her longing.

She gasped, her fingers weaving through his hair, her body humming with the sheer pleasure of Nikolai's touch. She let her hand trail down his neck to his shoulders, felt the corded muscles beneath his shirt and wanted more.

She broke away, gasping for breath, her hand trembling as she raised her fingers to her lips.

What had they done?

What had
she
done?

Falling for Nikolai was one thing, falling into his arms was quite another. “We shouldn't—”

“We did, so let's not ruin it with regrets.”

“But—”

“You're going to ruin it, aren't you?” He smiled gently, and Jenna's gaze dropped to his lips, rested there for a moment too long.

“No.” She looked away, focusing on the counter, the cabinets, the stove, anything but Nikolai's face.

“But you do have regrets.”

“I just don't want to fall too far, Nikolai. I don't want to start believing in happily-ever-afters and forevers. And I know I will. That's just the kind of person I am.”

“You make it sound like that's a bad thing.”

“It can be.”

“Not if the person you're falling for is falling with you. Not if the man you want those things with wants them, too.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingers tracing the curve of her ear, then following the line of her jaw to her chin and up to her lips.

“We barely know each other,” she added.

“We survived nearly certain death together. I think we know each other as well as we know anyone else.”

“Nikolai—” A loud knock sounded from down the hall, and Jenna jumped, whirling to face the sound.

“It's the door into the main house. I'll get it.” Nikolai walked through the small hallway and pulled the door open, stepping aside as John's mother walked in carrying a large tray.

“I'm so sorry for barging in on you, but I made some chicken noodle soup for lunch today, and John thought you might like some. He said you were under the weather.” Mrs.
Romero spoke in a rush of words, her tight salt-and-pepper curls vibrating. Short and a little plump, she looked nothing like John or his debonair father.

“That's very kind of you, Mrs. Romero.”

“It was no problem at all. I always make too much when I cook, so there's plenty. Come sit at the table. Both of you. It's best eaten when it's hot.” She set the tray on the table and lifted a cobalt soup bowl from it. “Now, Jenna, this one is for you. John insisted on dishing it up in one of Magdalena's favorite bowls. Handmade in Mexico by the mother of one of her patients. John said she'd want you to have it, so once you finish eating, we'll just wash it out and pack it for you to take home.”

“I couldn't—”

“My dear, Magdalena is no longer here to enjoy that bowl. She would much rather you have it than for it to sit in a cupboard, never used.”

It was true. That was the kind of woman Magdalena had been. She loved things to be useful and used, and she hated for anything to be wasted.

“Thank you, then.”

“Don't thank me. As I said, it was John's idea. Though how he can think past his grief, I don't know.” She shook her head and wiped at her eyes.

“It must be incredibly hard on all of you.” Jenna took a seat at the table, not meeting Nikolai's eyes as he sat across from her.

They'd kissed, and she could still taste him on her lips.

Just the thought made her blush again, and she grabbed a dinner roll from a basket Mrs. Romero held out and smeared butter on it.

Anything to keep from looking at Nikolai.

“It is. I never had a daughter, and Magdalena was one to me. Such a sweet and loving girl. So giving.” She dropped down into a chair, apparently content to sit and watch while Jenna and Nikolai ate.

“Your son doesn't seem quite as convinced of her sweetness,” Nikolai said, and Jenna kicked his shin, hoping to get him to keep quiet. He grinned, but kept right on talking. “He seems to think she was involved in drug trafficking.”