When he’d brought Camille to Texas, he’d noticed the wrinkles at the corners of his mother’s eyes for the first time. And, for the first time, he’d thought about the future.
About leaving the FBI.
IN SPITE OF HERSELF, Camille began to grow excited about new clothes. She hated the maternity clothes she’d worn for so long. When she and Jake had disappeared in the middle of the night, she’d only been allowed one bag.
Jake had promised that her parents’ house—now hers—and her belongings would be safe, but she had to travel light.
Since her social life had been nil, dressing hadn’t been a problem. She’d worn the five outfits until she could no longer stand the sight of them. She’d also included in her suitcase a couple of pairs of slacks and blouses from her pre-pregnancy days, but the blouses still didn’t fit.
She hadn’t complained. She figured her life and that of her child were more important than clothes. But she had to admit she’d be thrilled to have something new to wear.
So why did she feel such disappointment when she realized Jake wasn’t going to stay with her while she acquired her new belongings? If she were honest, she knew the answer to that question.
Over the past six months she had needed Jake to protect her physically, but she also had an emotional need for his approval. She worked hard to hide it. Jake wasn’t interested in any personal involvement, she knew, so she didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable. Still, she couldn’t help asking, “But where will you be?”
“I’m going into Austin. Max will stay with you.”
“Of course. I thought—of course, we’ll be fine.” And they would, she knew, or Jake wouldn’t go. But she’d been looking forward to having him see her in something new.
She blushed at the thought. It was only too obvious that he wanted nothing to do with her outside of their professional relationship. But his kindness, his big body, his warm gaze, all had become as important to her as fresh air. Once her ex-husband was put behind bars and Jake opened the door and told her to leave, she’d be lost.
She was in love with Jake Maitland. She finally admitted it to herself for the first time.
What a foolish, foolish thing to happen. An FBI agent and a gangster’s ex-wife.
When it was time to leave, Jake escorted her and Jamie out of the house to his SUV. He placed a hand on her back to steady her as she climbed into the car, and she shivered. Admitting her feelings about Jake to herself had made his touch so much more intense. Good thing he kept his distance.
To distract herself, she thought about the last time she’d left the cabin, the night she’d given birth to Jamie.
Throughout her pregnancy, Jake’s sister Abby had come to the ranch to examine her once a month, and then every week when she was closer to term. The plan had been for Camille to be admitted to Maitland Maternity under an alias once she’d reached her due date, but she’d gone into labor early, with intense contractions, and Abby had insisted Jake call an ambulance for Camille. Jake hadn’t wanted to risk revealing their hiding place at the cabin so he compromised by taking Camille to the main ranch house, where the paramedics arrived and whisked her to the hospital. She smiled at the memory.
“What’s funny?” he asked, looking at her as he drove.
“I was just thinking that even though I was at Garrett’s house the night I went into labor, I was too distracted to even notice what it looked like.”
Jake shrugged. “It’s just a ranch house.”
Knowing that was all she’d get from Jake, Camille asked, “What about your mother’s house? Where is it located?”
“In Austin.”
Well, that didn’t tell her much. “Will Garrett be at the dinner?”
“Of course. He’s like family.”
“He’s your cousin, isn’t he?”
“He may as well be. He and his brother and two sisters were foundlings. Friends of my mother’s—the Lords—adopted them. We’ve considered them family ever since. Mitch, my brother, was six years older than me, so I played more with Garrett and Michael.”
“It must be nice to have so much family,” she said wistfully. An only child, she’d always yearned for siblings.
“Do you want more children?” he abruptly asked.
Startled, she turned to stare at him. “I—I always wanted a big family, but—but without a husband—I mean, I wouldn’t consider—without—” She fell silent, embarrassed by her incoherence. But his question had brought an instant image of herself wrapped in Jake’s embrace, surrounded by several children.
He appeared almost as embarrassed. “Forget it. None of my business.”
“How far is it to Garrett’s house?” she asked, hoping the change of subject would help.
“About another mile.”
“Then why did we leave so early?” she asked. It was only a little after three.
“I want us well in place before Anna gets there.”
“Oh.” She never questioned Jake’s ability to protect her. After all, he’d kept her safe for six months.
“I called the house. Garrett’s housekeeper is expecting us.” He stared straight ahead as he drove.
“I’ve never met her,” she replied.
He frowned. “We haven’t exactly been meeting and greeting. But she’s nice.” To her surprise, he reached over and smoothed his thumb across her forehead. “Quit worrying.”
“I’m not worrying,” she hurriedly assured him. After all, she had confidence in him. But his touching her, even on the forehead, had her longing for more.
“Yeah, right. That’s why you’re looking pretty fragile these days.”
Fragile? She lifted her chin. “I’m stronger than I look.”
“You convinced me of that in the delivery room,” he said with a shudder. “Thank God men don’t have to have children.”
It was the first time he’d voluntarily mentioned Jamie’s birth. She closed her eyes as she remembered his arm around her, one hand holding hers, his strength pouring into her.
“We’re here.”
Jake’s announcement had her popping open her eyes. To her astonishment, in place of the cozy little ranch house she’d expected, her gaze fell on a large, two-story home.
“My heavens, what is this, Tara?” she asked, thinking of the famous antebellum home in Gone With The Wind.
Jake shot her a surprised look. “Nope. Just Garrett’s place.”
Camille frowned as he got out and walked around to open her door. If Jake thought this house was normal, he must have been raised differently from her.
Not that she was penniless. Her parents’ life insurance had left her with some reserves. And the government had promised to handle the sale of her parents’ house and put the money in her account when she was ready, according to Jake.
But their house had been small, a Beaver Cleaver kind of house, not a mansion like this.
“Want me to take the baby?” Jake offered as he opened the door.
She nodded and eased the baby from his carseat and into Jake’s arms, the contact between them sending shivers through her again. But she liked the picture of Jamie in his arms. His hands were so large,