Major Nanny

Chapter Sixteen

Harlan stopped off at the guesthouse, planning to shower and re-dress. He held out a small hope that Stacy might have gone back home before heading into the office for the big day of last-minute preparations, but when he asked the guard on duty if he’d seen her, he told Harlan that Stacy had taken Zachary to school and hadn’t returned.

Inside, he went to the hall closet to pull out fresh clothes for work but found nothing there but a few empty hangers. He shut the door, confused. Had she moved his clothes to her own closet? Was it her way of saying he was welcome in her bed for more than just one night?

But when he checked her closet, he found only her clothes. The clothes he’d shucked off last night were nowhere around.

He went back to the living room and found the answer to the mystery. His two duffel bags were sitting by the sofa, and if their shapes were anything to go by, all his clothes had been repacked inside. A folded piece of paper lay tucked under one of the duffel bag handles.

Apprehension making his gut clench, he opened the note. It was from Stacy, written in her neat, spare cursive. “Harlan, thanks for all your help. Zachary and I appreciate all you’ve done to keep us safe. With the fundraiser happening tonight, you’ll be going back to your own place, so I thought I’d go ahead and get your things together for you as a thank-you.”

She’d signed her name at the bottom. No postscript, no mention of what had happened between them the night before.

It was as if she’d decided to erase him from her life.

She’d said she wasn’t in the market for a relationship. He hadn’t been, either, until he met her and couldn’t get her out of his head.

After last night, he’d been sure she was beginning to feel the same way. In his arms, she’d been fierce and generous, taking everything he gave her and giving it right back to him. Could he have been wrong about what she was feeling?

Maybe her experience with her ex had done more of a number on her than he’d realized, he thought, refolding the note and tucking it into the pocket of his pants. If he ever ran into Anthony Giordano, he was going to have a hell of a lot to say.

Locking up behind him, he picked up the envelope full of photos he’d laid on the table by the door and headed outside. He left the truck parked in front of the guesthouse and walked the hundred yards between the guesthouse and the governor’s sprawling villa. It took him halfway there before the obvious answer for Stacy’s behavior slapped him right in the face.

He had left her bed without even leaving a note.

No phone calls to check in on her, no word at all. Just sex and a hasty escape-that’s what it would have looked like to her, wouldn’t it? No wonder she’d packed his bags and given him a brush-off note.

Stacy was in with the governor when Harlan knocked on the door. She looked up with cool lack of interest that made his chest ache. But he saw something in her eyes that convinced him she wasn’t as indifferent as she was trying to appear. A hint of pain at the sight of him, giving him evidence that he’d been right. She thought he considered her a one-night stand.

He’d disabuse her of that notion as soon as he could, but first, he had to show her and the governor what the Freedom Sheriff’s Department had found during their search of Trevor Lewis’s apartment.

He pulled up the chair the governor gestured toward and put the manila envelope on the desk in front of him. Stacy slanted a curious look at the envelope, but Lila ignored it. “I hear the Freedom Sheriff’s Department raided Trevor Lewis’s apartment in the middle of the night. You have anything to do with that?”

Harlan glanced at Stacy. She didn’t look surprised by the governor’s words, so this wasn’t the first she’d heard of it. Why was she still upset with him, if she knew why he’d left?

“I was tangentially involved,” he answered, dragging his gaze away from Stacy’s down-turned face.

“Did they find anything connecting him to the bombing in Austin?” Stacy asked, still not looking at him.

“No. But he’s connected to Planet Justice, the group that’s going to hold a protest tonight outside the fundraiser.”

Stacy’s gaze finally rose to meet his. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the worst of it.” He opened the envelope and pulled out the photos. “The deputies found this in his bedroom.”

He watched as horrified realization spread over her face, wondering if he should have softened the blow somehow. Why had he just sprung the photos on her without any preparation?

Was he that desperate to make her look at him again?

“My God,” she whispered.

Lila Lockhart held her hand out for the photos. Stacy handed them to the governor, who slipped on her glasses and flipped through the photographs, her expression darkening.

“This may not be legally actionable evidence, but it’s enough for me. I’ll take my lumps and fire the creepy little SOB from the stables. If he wants to make a public stink, I’ll tell them all about this bedroom shrine, and if he thinks I don’t have the gumption to do it, he doesn’t know who I am.”

Harlan smiled at the governor’s outburst. “Good. That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

“He may end up at the protest anyway,” Stacy pointed out in a quiet voice, still looking shocked and disturbed.

Harlan fought the urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her. At least, not here in front of the governor.

“Stacy, I’m done with you for now-go ahead and get to the last-minute tasks you were telling me about. And don’t forget my hairdresser from Dallas will be here this afternoon to doll us up for the big shindig.” Lila flashed her aide a dazzling smile before her expression grew sympathetic. “Try not to worry too much about those pictures. If Trevor Lewis so much as steps foot on this ranch, I’ll make sure he’s kicked off, pronto.”

“Thank you,” Stacy murmured and left the office.

Lila turned back to look at Harlan. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Mr. McClain.”

“Yes, ma’am, I know,” he answered, aware that keeping peace at tonight’s fundraiser was only half the battle he had to win.

“Will you do me a favor, Mr. McClain?” the governor added as he headed for the exit.

“Of course, Governor.”

“Please have Mr. Cavanaugh with your agency give me a call. I have a project for him.”

“Sure,” he answered, heading down the hallway. He made a mental note to call Nick as soon as he got back to his office.

But first, he had someone else he needed to see.

SHE’D GOTTEN THROUGH seeing Harlan okay, hadn’t she?

Stacy gazed at her pale face in the mirror of her office bathroom, her haunted eyes accusing her of cowardice. She should be waiting in Harlan’s office to confront him about leaving her bed without even a note, not hiding in her office like a scared teenager.

But confront him for what? For doing his job?

“Still could have left a note,” she muttered aloud, but the gripe sounded petty in the face of the evidence the search warrant had unearthed.

Hearing footsteps outside, she dried her hands and left the bathroom to find Harlan standing just inside her office doorway.

He met her wary gaze with a look of sheer male intensity that made her insides quake and deliberately closed the door behind him. “Thanks for packing my bags.”

Looked like she was getting the confrontation whether she wanted it or not. “I figured with the fundraiser tonight, you might not have a chance to pack yourself.”

“Is that what you figured?” He stepped closer. “The danger won’t be over tonight. Whoever set that bomb in Austin won’t stop just because the party is over.”

“But the direct danger to me was getting the crank phone calls. And the flower on my porch-and clearly, that had to be Trevor, don’t you think?” She edged away from him, unnerved not by his nearness but by her nearly uncontrollable reaction to him. She felt a sensation low in her belly that was almost like a craving, a deep pang of need threatening to swamp her struggling self-control.

Last night, his lovemaking had been tender but demanding, pushing her to places, both physically and emotionally, that she’d never gone before, and her body seemed unwilling to walk away from that kind of experience unchanged, even if her mind was fighting hard to pretend it had been nothing but two bodies coming together to do what two bodies were created to do.

“You’re just coming up with excuses to make me go away,” he said in a low, sexy growl that made her bones melt. “I thought we were past that point in our relationship.”

She stepped away farther, turning to the window so she wouldn’t have to look at him. Outside, the long veranda was a hive of activity, workmen putting last-minute touches on the decorations on the ranch house’s exterior. “We don’t have a relationship,” she said aloud. “Until the party is over, you’re sort of my boss, I suppose. But that ends tonight.”

“So last night was, what? Scratching an itch?”

She grimaced at his hard words. “I guess.”

“I slept with you, Stacy.”

“Not for long.”

“And that’s the problem, right? I got up and left your bed without waking you?”

She forced herself to face him. “That’s pretty much always a problem for a woman, you know, waking to find the man she just had sex with couldn’t stick around for the cuddling phase.”

He arched his eyebrows. “We cuddled. Damned good cuddling, as I recall.”

He was trying to make her laugh now, she realized, as if he could cajole her into seeing everything his way. Anthony used to do that, and she used to let him. “Stop. Please.”

He released a frustrated sigh. “Tell me what you want from me. An apology? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to keep you out of what was going on. I should have awakened you, or at least left you a note about where I was going.”

She wanted to accept his apology, wanted it so much it felt like a fire burning in her belly. But what would forgiveness solve? Was she just going to fall into another disastrous relationship because he was charming and strong and great in bed? That’s what had happened with Anthony.

“I think we should forget last night ever happened. After the party tonight, there’s no reason we should see much of each other again.” Even as she said the words aloud, a hard pain settled in the center of her chest, making her queasy.

“So that’s it. You’re done.”

She nodded. “I’m done.”

He released a long, slow breath. “Okay.” She heard him walk toward the door, then stop. She looked up as he turned around to look at her again. “Can I tell Zachary goodbye?”

The look in Harlan’s eyes was impossible to resist. “Okay. Tonight, before the fundraiser, you can come say goodbye.”

Harlan nodded. “Thank you.”

Then he was gone.

She lifted shaking hands to her face, pushing her hair away from her forehead. Tears hammered her eyes but she forced them to stay put. She wasn’t going to fall apart today. She’d made a decision, and she was strong enough to live with it.

All she had to do was get through this fundraiser and it would all be over.

WHEN HARLAN STOPPED BY the guesthouse later that afternoon, he already knew he wasn’t going to see Stacy. He’d spotted her thirty minutes ago, walking into the office area carrying a vinyl dress bag. Apparently she was going to get ready for the party at the main house.

He’d already donned his tuxedo during a quick trip home to his apartment for a shave and a shower. Zachary made a face when he spotted Harlan coming through the door. “You look like you’re going to a funeral,” Zachary commented. “Are you?”

He’d have about as much fun at a funeral, Harlan thought. He sat on the coffee table across from Zachary’s perch on the sofa. “No, just a party.”

“So’s Mommy. Are you going to the party with her?”

“We’ll both be at the party,” Harlan answered carefully.

“Will you and Mommy bring me cake from the party?”

“I’ll ask your mama for you.”

“You could bring it.”

Harlan slanted a quick glance at Charlotte Manning, who was watching them from the kitchen. He saw in her eyes a look of knowing sadness that convinced him Stacy had warned her why he’d be stopping by. He supposed Charlotte would need to be in the loop, since she’d have to spend the rest of the night with Zachary once the goodbyes were said.

He looked back at Zachary. “I won’t be coming back, Zachary. My job is over tonight, and you and your mama will have the place to yourselves again.”

Zachary looked puzzled. “But you moved in.”

“Only for a little while. I have to go back to my own place. My furniture misses me. Just like the horses miss you when you don’t go ride.”

“You can come see me ride, right? Your furniture can let you come see me ride.”

Harlan’s heart felt as if it had ripped in two, pain bleeding into his chest. “I’ll talk to your mama about that.” He reached out and smoothed a spiky strand of hair on Zachary’s head. The child didn’t flinch, a sign of his trust in Harlan. “Listen here, Zachary, I’m going to ask you to do something for me, okay? It’s real important.”

Zachary nodded. “Okay.”

“I want you to take real good care of your mama. You watch after her and be real good to her, for me.”

“Okay,” Zachary answered solemnly.

“And if either one of you ever need anything, you ask for me, okay? ’Cause I’ll come running if you need me.”

Zachary nodded again. “You’ll come running.”

Harlan reached across and pulled the little boy into a fierce hug. After a couple of seconds, Zachary started struggling.

“One, two, three, let go!” he said indignantly.

Harlan let him go. “Sorry. Next time I’ll count.” He headed for the door before he started doing something embarrassing, such as blubbering like a baby.

He turned in the doorway to get one last look at Zachary. The little boy had already lost interest in Harlan, taking his goodbye at face value, and was playing with a couple of toy horses on the coffee table.

But Charlotte Manning was watching him with shining eyes. He gave her a quick nod goodbye and left the house, trotting down the porch steps before he changed his mind and went back.

With each step he took up the path to the main house, he felt as if he was leaving behind the only life that would ever make him happy.

STACY STRAIGHTENED HER DRESS and took a deep breath before stepping out of the governor’s personal library onto the open gallery that circled the ballroom one story below. Guests had started arriving a few minutes ago, but she still had time to make a quick run down to the guesthouse to check on Zachary and Charlotte before the fundraiser went into full swing.

Unfortunately, the ground rules Harlan had set stated that any staffer leaving the main house had to check in with him first so he could alert the perimeter guards.

She found him only a few feet down the gallery, standing at the balcony that overlooked the main floor. The spacious ballroom was the one interior room that looked as if it belonged within the Italianate villa exterior of the Twin Harts ranch house. Oval-shaped, flanked by eight tall white columns supporting the open gallery on the second floor and decorated in neutral shades of white, cream, gold and peach, the ballroom looked like something out of an old movie.

About twenty early arrivals milled about the ballroom, chatting and enjoying the champagne and hors d’oeuvres several white-jacketed waiters offered on shiny silver trays.

Like the rest of the security agents, Harlan was dressed in a simple black tuxedo with a necktie in lieu of a more formal bow tie. He’d shaved since she’d spotted him on her way into the ranch house earlier that afternoon. In fact, he looked completely edible, and she didn’t know how she was going to get through the rest of the night without making a fool of herself.

He turned at her approach, his eyes darkening with a pure, feral hunger that seemed to match her own. “Stacy.”

She swallowed hard. “Just the man I was looking for.”

She saw a flicker of hope in his eyes and realized he thought she had sought him out for personal reasons.

She hadn’t, had she?

“I need clearance from you to leave the ranch house,” she said aloud. “I want to run down to check on Zachary and Charlotte before the party gets into full swing.”

“Why don’t I get one of the agents to walk you over there?” he asked, looking uneasy.

“It’s not necessary,” she said.

He lowered his voice. “The danger isn’t over yet, Stacy. Don’t let anything that went on between the two of us make you forget that.”

“I haven’t.” She softened her voice. “I appreciate your concern about me. And Zachary.”

He leaned closer. “When this party’s over, I want to talk to you. Can I come over tonight?”

Temptation burned low in her belly. But she forced herself to shake her head. “Not a good idea.”

“Then tomorrow. Let me come by tomorrow.”

“Harlan-” She could feel herself crumbling, and it scared her to death.

“Okay. I’ll call ahead and let them know you’re coming.”

She started to walk away, then turned to look at him, unable to cut herself off from him completely. “Maybe we could have coffee at Talk of the Town in a couple of days.”

That was noncommittal, wasn’t it? She could change her mind if she wanted to.

He smiled. “That sounds good. You have my number.”

She returned the smile tentatively and escaped downstairs, her cheeks burning. Greeting a few of the early arriving guests, she weaved her way to the side exit and stopped there for a moment, looking back at the second floor gallery.

Harlan still stood at the railing, watching her.

Her face burning, she headed outside into the cool night.

She knew Jeff Appleton was the agent guarding the checkpoint outside the guesthouse, since he’d asked Charlotte to watch Abby along with Zachary. But he wasn’t at his post when she reached the checkpoint.

Had he gone into the house to check on Abby? A breach of security protocol like that didn’t sound much like Jeff, but he was pretty crazy about his kid.

She’d left her keys back at the ranch house, locked in Lila’s office, so she knocked on the door and waited for Charlotte to answer.

But it wasn’t Charlotte Manning who opened the door.

It was Trevor Lewis.

“UNIT SEVEN TO UNIT ONE. We need backup!” Vince Russo’s voice barked in Harlan’s ear as he watched the governor readying herself to climb the shallow steps of the riser holding a delicate brass podium from which she’d speak in a minute or two.

“Unit Seven, what’s the situation?” He stepped back into an alcove, not wanting to raise alarm among the guests gathered on the ballroom floor.

“Black bloc action on the protest front. They’re overrunning the perimeter guards. We need at least three or four more bodies to get them back in line!”

Harlan radioed the other checkpoints that had multiple guards and peeled off three agents to head for the south gate, where the governor had provided a cordoned-off protest area.

He kept a close eye on the ballroom as he did so, not liking the timing of the sudden eruption from the protestors. He couldn’t pour all his attention and resources into quelling the protestors-they could be a decoy designed to draw his attention away from the governor.

He headed toward the governor. “Ma’am, we have a situation.” He told her what was happening. “I think we need to consider evacuating the guests from the ballroom.”

“Surely you’re overreacting-”

“Harlan!” A high-pitched, unmistakable voice rose over the murmur of the crowd, drawing Harlan’s attention away from the governor. He scanned the crowd for a face he knew couldn’t possibly be there.

But there he was, only a few yards away, looking tiny and rumpled in his pajamas with the yellow ponies galloping over a blue field. Zachary spotted Harlan and crossed the floor as fast as his slipper-clad feet would take him.

“Unit Two, Unit Six, cover Cowgirl,” Harlan said into the headset, referring to the governor, as he hurried to meet Zachary halfway. The fear in the boy’s eyes made his gut twist.

“You said to find you if Mommy needed you,” Zachary said, out of breath. “I ran all the way here to look for you.”

“Where’s your mama?”

“At home. You have to come.”

Three fast cracking noises split the air. Around them, people started screaming and running.

Gunfire.