Bodyguard Lockdown - By Donna Young Page 0,67
think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in the desert,” he admitted quietly.
Sandra stiffened, not sure she’d heard his words correctly.
“We were at the oil drill site in Taer. You were standing there, across the sand. In a hat, sunglasses—” he glanced at her shirt and pants “—the same khakis.”
“They’re comfortable,” Sandra quipped, then frowned. “I remember that day, though. One of your men had been injured. He caught his leg in one of the winch chains.”
“I hadn’t been that nervous since—” He swore silently. “Hell, I’ve never been that nervous. Except for now.”
“Booker, this...” She waved her hand between them. “It will go away. It has to.”
“It hasn’t for four years, Doc.”
“Why now?” Sandra demanded. “Why couldn’t you have said all of this a year ago? Or even two months ago in the cave when we made love.”
When we conceived our baby, she added silently.
“When I married Emily, I thought I loved her. I thought she was all I wanted. Stability, comfort, family.”
“It was there. You just didn’t have enough time with her,” Sandra insisted. “We stole that away from you.”
“No,” Booker denied. “You can’t steal something that never existed in the first place.”
“What do you mean?”
Booker took Sandra’s hand. The calluses, the heated grip, invaded the dark part of her heart. She couldn’t bring up the strength to tug free.
“Emily was the only child of an overindulgent father. She was too selfish, too vain to care about anything other than herself,” Booker told her. “Sandra, Em wasn’t coming to tell me she was overjoyed at being pregnant. She was coming to tell me she didn’t want my baby. She never wanted to get pregnant. The pregnancy wasn’t planned.”
He paused for a moment. “She was leaving me. Her bags were packed and in the trunk of her car. She hated me enough to tell me in person that she was filing for a divorce and getting rid of my baby.”
His voice rasped out the last word. Tears pricked at Sandra’s eyes. She blinked them away.
“It took me all these years to sort it out in my mind,” Booker explained. “I think somehow, when I first met Emily, I compared her to my mother. An heiress of sorts, who would defy her father for an undying love.”
“But Emily wasn’t like your mom.”
“No, she married me on a whim. To get back at her father, I’m sure,” Booker admitted. “Their relationship was extreme in all emotions. Anger, love.”
“She still didn’t deserve to die, Booker.”
“No, she didn’t.” He brought Sandra’s hand to his cheek, pressed a soft kiss on her wrist.
Her pulse quickened, her fingers caressed the whiskers, the slant of his jaw. It was then she understood she’d never be able to stop loving this man.
But she could still walk away.
“The revenge I took on Trygg wasn’t out of love for Emily or for my men, Sandra,” Booker admitted. “It was born from anger, guilt...pride. Loyalty maybe. But never love.”
When she looked away, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face back to his. “But when he took you? The rage, the fear I felt, rocked me to the core. I would have avenged you. And it would have been out of love.”
“I don’t want you to avenge me.” This time Sandra did tug free. She rose to her feet, dusted off the back of her skirt. “It wouldn’t work, Booker. Every time we looked at each other, we’d remember what brought us together.”
“Damn right it will,” Booker replied, grabbing her hand to keep her from leaving. “And I don’t ever want to forget.”
Surprised, she looked at him. “What?”
“I hope I never forget.” He tugged her hand, catching her in his arms and across his lap. Before she could move away, he hugged her to his chest. “You almost died on me, Doc. So many times, I’ve lost count.”
“Five,” she admitted, somewhat reluctantly. “Six, if you include the moment on the plane when you couldn’t say you loved me.”
“I was fighting my fear of losing you,” Booker admitted. He linked his fingers with hers, left them resting across her belly. “If I’d said the words out loud, I wouldn’t have been able to let you go.”
“You didn’t let me go—you threw me out of the plane,” Sandra murmured. “Can’t get more decisive than that.”
“You kicked me out of a helicopter first,” he reminded her with a smile. “I love you, Doc. And if it takes me our lifetime together to convince