“Take your time.”
She sorted junk mail from bills, tossing the former into the trash. Her eye caught on the package, and she picked it up, looking for a return address. “Huh.”
“What is it?” Scott asked.
“I don’t know.” She grabbed scissors from a drawer in the kitchen and cut straight across the top. She turned it upside down and shrieked as a small baby doll, the head separated from the body, fell onto the table.
Meg stared, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“Holy shit,” Scott muttered. “Don’t touch it.” He grabbed her and pulled her back, away from the doll.
Shaking, Meg glanced up at him. “He’s lost his mind,” she whispered.
“He’s not going to get near you or the baby,” he promised, wrapping his arm around her and leading her away from the counter and the offending package.
“Let me just call someone to come pick this up and dust for prints. I don’t expect to turn up anything, but maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Meg didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She was too nauseous and scared to even try. This time, a friend of Scott’s from the force arrived, not a cop he didn’t know. The man took more interest in Meg and her case, and they processed the doll for evidence, but like Scott, he didn’t hold out much hope for prints.
Through it all, Scott held her hand or wrapped her in his protective embrace, and she didn’t think it made her weak to accept his comfort. Mike wanted to kill her baby. No way would she let it happen. Neither, she believed, would Scott, and that was the only thing that kept her marginally sane.
A very long while later, they returned to Scott’s house. She still didn’t speak, and he didn’t push, which she appreciated. His steady presence was all she needed.
He locked up the house and set the alarm before joining her in the bedroom. She’d already washed up, changed into a nightie, and climbed into bed. Scott slid in beside her, pulling her tight against his hard body, holding her until she fell into a fitful sleep.
The beginning of the week passed slowly, the damned baby doll never far from her thoughts. Scott offered to stay home with her, but she insisted he go to work and get used to his new job and let the guys see him pulling his weight as boss. He needed to do that for himself and for Tyler, and Meg didn’t want to grow to rely on him any more than she already did. The house was alarmed, Rick sat outside, and Meg was as safe as possible. For now.
By the time Wednesday arrived, Meg was edgy from a combination of boredom and angry frustration. Mike had made her a prisoner in Scott’s house, unable to live her life, and she resented him for that. The Ashtons had invited Meg to meet at their Palm Beach country club. She explained she was bringing Scott as her friend and as her bodyguard because she wanted them to understand just how serious a threat their son posed to her and her baby. She pressed her hand against her growing belly protectively, nervous now that she had to leave the safety of the house.
She dressed in a pair of knit leggings and a matching top, a gray-and-white outfit that was true maternity wear. It seemed as if her small belly had popped overnight, her baby making its presence well and truly known. A flutter of excitement filled her along with a healthy dose of trepidation. The thought of a baby was way different than the reality, and now she’d get a feel for how Scott would react when he noticed her body’s changes.
He’d asked her not to give up on him, and she’d felt the intensity and seriousness in his tone and his actions. Ever since Sunday night, he’d been back to the Scott who’d barreled his way into her life and made her the center of his world. She just didn’t know if it would last, and she didn’t need the added emotional stress.
Scott drove them north to Palm Beach, where the Ashtons lived, and the long ride passed in tense silence. The tension wasn’t between her and Scott, however; it was Meg’s nerves that had completely overtaken her. It didn’t help when they pulled up to the front of the club, an imposing structure with white pillars and lush palm trees surrounding the building. She felt way out of her league.
Valets were waiting to take their car. Scott accepted the ticket before walking around the car, toward her. He always took her breath away, and today was no different. He’d showered and shaved, so not only did he look good, he smelled delicious, his musky scent calling to her body and arousing her despite the time and place.
He’d dressed up in a pair of black slacks and a pale-blue long-sleeve button-down dress shirt. Blue was clearly his favorite color, and it had quickly become hers because of how the color set off his gorgeous eyes. He also wore a black sport jacket, his holstered gun hidden at his side. Though she hated the idea of the weapon, she felt so much better knowing he was with her and armed. She didn’t want to think the older couple would set her up by bringing Mike, but anything was possible. Mike was tracking her or following her somehow, and today’s meeting wouldn’t go unnoticed. Her stomach flipped painfully at the thought.
“Are you okay? You didn’t say a word on the drive up,” Scott said, his big hand cupping her elbow as he joined her.
“No,” she said honestly. “But I have to do this.” She pulled in a deep breath of air.
“Well, you’re not alone.” He pressed his forehead to hers, the gesture both tender and intimate, and her entire body flooded with warmth and heat.
“I know.” She pulled back and managed
