In Broad Daylight (9 page)

what do I do after that?"

"Maybe we'll get lucky and the kidnapper'll call while you're there."

"And if he doesn't?"

He glanced down at her foot, then smiled. "I'll see what I can do to keep the rest of you

in after that."

Gratitude shone in her eyes. The pull he'd been battling against increased, doubling.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

And then, before he knew what he was doing, before he had a chance to tell himself not

to, before he could blame it on the warm night and hours that were too long to allow him to

think clearly, Dax framed her incredibly beautiful face in his hands.

Her eyes met his.

His resolve, what there was left of it, slipped away into the night.

He brought his mouth down to hers.

«^»

He'd caught her by surprise.

But surprise faded quickly. In its place came the realization that she'd actually been

anticipating this all along. On some plane, she'd known this was going to happen, been

waiting for it to happen. In a way, she'd been holding her breath until it did.

In the space of a very quick heartbeat, Brenda wound her arms around his neck and leaned

her body into his, losing herself in the taste of his lips, in the heat of his kiss.

Feeling so desperately alone these days, weighed down by the secret she was harboring,

she needed this warmth, this human contact, if only for a moment. She found it

comforting—and wildly exhilarating.

Every part of her body was wide awake, alert, and quickly absorbing the sensations that

were traveling through her body with the speed of lightning bolts.

Her eyes closed, her head spinning, Brenda moaned as the kiss deepened, pulling her in by

virtue of its sheer power.

The sound of her moan echoed in his head, fueling the desire that had suddenly broken

free of its shackles. He'd surprised himself by stepping outside the lines and giving in to

the ever-increasing demand he'd felt drumming through his body. Dax was surprised too

by the power with which his action had been met. He hadn't known what to expect, either

from her response or from her. She could have slapped him, but she didn't. Could have

been impassive, but she wasn't.

And she hadn't just surrendered, she'd advanced an offensive of her own and left him

utterly caught up in what was happening. Turning him into a prisoner as well as an

instigator.

She felt warm and supple against him, her curves yielding, making him want what he

couldn't have. What the hell was going on here? What was he doing? his mind demanded

sharply.

Stepping back while he still had the wherewithal, Dax looked at the woman who was now in

his arms. His mind scrambled erratically in different directions, searching for a way to

form an apology.

Words felt like cardboard in his mouth. He released her, taking a step back so their

bodies were no longer touching.

A warm evening breeze moved within the space that was created.

"I'm sorry. I must be overtired—"

Brenda smiled and shook her head. There was no need for him to apologize. She'd needed

that. Needed to feel, for one precious moment that she was attractive to another human

being.

She knew this wasn't going anywhere. It couldn't for so many reasons. "You don't kiss like

someone who's overtired."

She didn't look angry. Hell, she didn't even look surprised. Had she sensed it was coming?

With effort, he pulled his thoughts together. Since she wasn't offended, it was best to

hurry away from the incident as quickly as possible.

Dax nodded toward her car. "You'll be all right getting home?"

He was retreating, she thought. She supposed that was a good thing, but there was a

small part of her that had wanted the kiss to go on. To strip her of every thought until all

that was left was a raw need to find fulfillment in lovemaking.

God, but she was tired. Brenda tried not to laugh at herself.

"You dazed me, Detective Cavanaugh, but you didn't daze methatmuch." She flashed a

smile at him. "I'll be fine," she assured him.

As she began to drive away, her eyes on her rearview mirror and the man who watched her

retreat into the night, she wasn't one hundred percent sure of herself. She felt shaky

inside, as if every single one of her molecules had been taken apart and then put back

together again. Quickly and maybe not so precisely.

Brenda took a deep breath. Maybe it was her current emotional state that was doing this

to her. The emotional state that felt in complete upheaval not just because of the

kidnapping, but because she was pregnant and her hormones were just now beginning to

stop playing ping-pong all over her psyche.

Hands tightly gripping the wheel, she stared straight ahead. She made every single light

and found herself pulling up into her allotted parking space less than twenty minutes later,

her head crowded with thoughts, with memories.

She remembered the morning she'd finally given in and marched herself down to her

gynecologist where she'd heard what she already, in her heart, knew to be true. She was

having a hard enough time dealing with the thought of what being pregnant represented.

She'd always loved children, there was no doubt about that. But the children she

interacted with all went to their homes at the end of the day. They only required so much

from her emotionally. Being a mother, moreover bearing Wade's child, that was something

else again.

The tiny being growing inside of her didn't change anything, really. She still wasn't in love

with Wade, never hadbeen,she thought, letting herself into the darkened apartment. But

now there was more to think of than just herself, or even Wade. There was a child being

brought into the world through no fault of its own. It deserved the best advantages. That

meant a real home. Not the kind she'd had, with only one grudging parent in attendance, if

he could be called that.

She remembered the gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach when she'd come to her

conclusion. Knowing that she had toreallymake a go of her marriage. For everyone's sake.

Wade still wanted her. He'd made that clear throughout the long weekend they'd spent

together. And every child wanted to have a "normal" family: a mother and father within

sight of one another.

She paused before the refrigerator, taking out the container of milk. Reaching overhead,

she took out a glass from the cabinet, narrowly avoiding hitting the container of prenatal

vitamins. She kept them where she could see them, so she couldn't forget to take them

every morning. These days it felt as if her mind was scattered in a hundred places.

Just like it had felt as she began to place her call to the base that afternoon to tell Wade

that he was going to be a father. But before she had finished hitting the numbers on the

keypad, there was a knock on her door. Two solemn-faced marines stood on her doorstep,

telling her that they were very sorry to have to inform her that her husband had been

killed in a freak accident during regular maneuvers.

The news had left her feeling completely hollow. She felt caught in a tailspin. After

thanking them for coming in person, she'd shut the door on them and their offers of help

and retreated to her bed, where she'd stayed for two days, wishing the world would

swallow her up. But it hadn't.

At the beginning of the third day, she'd crawled out of her bed, out of her shell, and got

back to the business of living again. She tried to find the bright side the way she always

did. She told herself that at least now she wouldn't have to be caught up in an emotion-

sapping marriage, didn't have to pretend to be happy when she wasn't.

But oh, the thought of facing motherhood completely on her own scared her beyond

words.

For the time being, she'd kept the news to herself, not letting any of the teachers at the

academy or even Harwood himself know about her condition. She couldn't find the words

to tell them. Not until she had some kind of firm plan.

In the meantime, she'd lost herself in the task of teaching the children in her first-grade

class, being all she could for them. That meant opening up new worlds for them and in some

cases, as with Annie, it meant opening up feelings.

But now the tables were turned and the teacher found herself being the pupil, she

thought, rinsing out her glass and putting it on the rack to drain. This tall, dark detective

with the dimples had opened up an entire new box of feelings for her. Reminding her what

it felt liketofeel.

No, there'd been more than that, Brenda thought as she made her way to the bedroom,

kicking off her shoes as she went. This was more like what she'd oncethoughta kiss would

be like. Something to erase the nail polish right off her toes.

The first time Wade had kissed her, she'd waited for the lightning, waited for that wild,

heady feeling she just knew had to be part of the process. But it had never come. And

eventually, she'd told herself that she'd expected too much. Reactions like that only

happened in the movies, not in real life.

Except that now it had.

No, she told herself firmly, it hadn't. She slipped out of her clothes and into the worn

running shorts and T-shirt she slept in. What had happened had been more than liberally

helped along by her heightened emotional turmoil. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. Because if

it was, someone would have kidnapped Detective Dax Cavanaugh and run off with him a long

time ago, tucking him into a private cave where only they could have access to him.

She threw her clothes onto the back of a chair. Tomorrow she'd have enough energy to

put them in the hamper, but not tonight.

A sensation shimmied over her. Brenda closed her eyes and relived the moment his lips

had touched hers. The man's mouth should be registered with the local authorities as a

lethal weapon.

Her eyes opened again and she shook her head. She was tired, stressed out, she silently

insisted as she lowered herself into bed. It had been one hell of a day. By morning, things

would feel as if they were almost back to normal.

It took a long time for her body to stop humming.

Morning didn't feel normal.

She'd spent a restless night, tossing and turning. Sleep, when it finally came, had been

inky and dreamless. And far from refreshing.

When she woke up, the first thing that popped into her brain—exploded would have been a

more apt description—was that Annie Tyler was missing.

The thought throbbed in her head as she hurried through her shower and then into her

clothes. A sense of urgency pervaded every fiber of her being even though she wasn't sure

just where it was she was hurrying to. She knew that Simon Tyler—Annie's father's jet

had to have touched down by now—probably wouldn't welcome the sight of her any more

than her mother did. But the kidnapper had said he was going to call there today and she

needed to be there. For herself and more importantly, for Annie. If only just in a silent

capacity, standing on the sidelines. She seriously considered taking a leave of absence to

focus full time on finding Annie.

She looked at the boxes of flyers she'd brought into the house last night. Dax had said

something about her using them as an excuse to gain entrance to the mansion.

Why not? It was as good a reason for her to come by as any. They couldn't refuse the

flyers. Chances were, they hadn't had a chance to think about that yet. Shock had a way

of blanking out your mind, she remembered.

Forcing down a piece of toast and a cup of coffee that would have been more useful for

patching gaping holes in the driveway—decaffeinated in deference to the baby—Brenda

picked up the boxes and headed toward the door.

She was almost out of the apartment before she remembered her prenatal vitamins. With

a sigh, she doubled back. She'd never been much for taking vitamins herself, but this

wasn't for herself, this was for the baby. She wanted to make sure she did everything

right while she was carrying around this tiny passenger inside her body.

She used milk to wash down the vitamins, making a face as she did so. She'd never liked

milk, not even as a child. "I hope you appreciate all this," she murmured to her stomach just before she picked up the boxes again.

She was on the road within a blink of an eye.

There were police cars parked up and down the winding driveway in front of the mansion.

If they were meant to hold the media at bay, they weren't entirely successful. Vans

representing all the major local stations were camped before the mansion as well, waiting

for a glimmer of one of the main players in this real-life drama.

Frustration ate away at Brenda. From the looks of it, several vans had been there through

the night, hungry for a new tidbit to throw to the detail-hungry audiences. This was a

circus, she thought.

Snaking her way through the various vehicles, she looked around for someplace to park.

She recognized Dax's unmarked sedan almost instantly.

He was already here, she thought.

All the way over, she'd tried not to think of him. Which caused all her thoughts to center

on the man. Over and over again she kept telling herself that last night had been the