Beverly Barton - Grace Under Fire

Jed left Grace standing in the hall, then galloped down the long, winding staircase and into the marble-floored foyer. He sat in one of the two antique armchairs flanking an ornately decorated chest that rested against the right entrance wall. He figured he'd be waiting no more than thirty minutes before he heard from Rafe, letting him know the package had been examined and either destroyed or was on its way up to the house.

While he waited, he went over several different scenarios. He was ninety-nine percent certain the "gift" was from Booth. And whatever it was, it would be an unpleasant surprise. If he could, he wanted to protect Grace as much as possible from the ugliness. She was a strong, brave woman, but she'd suffered more than enough for two lifetimes. He had no intention of letting her become another of Booth Fortier's victims.

"Want some company?" Grace asked as she floated down the staircase, her movements fluid and unhurried.

He glanced up and watched her as she descended, her yellow silk pajamas only a shade darker than her shoulder-length hair. Looking at her, he couldn't see a flaw. Not one tiny imperfection. But then, he hadn't explored every inch of her.

His sex reacted instantly to the thought of his hands caressing Grace's naked body. Down, boy, down! he ordered a particular part of his anatomy. Okay, so he was a red-blooded American male, and what guy in his right mind wouldn't be attracted to a woman as beautiful as Grace? But it wasn't like him to react so strongly to a woman he barely knew-one who'd put up No Trespassing signs all around her. Yes, he got as horny as the next guy, but he had never hurt for female companionship. If he wanted to get laid, he didn't figure he'd have a problem once this assignment was over and he was free to indulge in some extracurricular activity. But the problem was he didn't just want to get laid. He wanted Grace. He wanted to make love to her. Sweet, slow, all-night-long love.

"Jed?" she called to him when she reached the foot of the stairs.

"Huh?"

"Are you all right?"

No, honey, I'm not all right. I'm hurting in the worst way, but you don't want to hear it. "Yeah, sure, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Mind if I wait with you?" she asked, but didn't pause long enough for him to reply before she sat in the matching armchair on the opposite side of the chest.

"Look… whatever the gift is, it's not going to be anything you want to see." Jed leaned over slightly, so that he could look around the huge chest that separated them. "Take my word for it. My guess is Booth Fortier has sent you a warning. Why don't you just go back upstairs and let me handle this. "

"You're trying to protect me and I appreciate it, but-"

"That's my job, isn't it?"

"To protect my life," she told him. "Not protect my heart."

Jed huffed, then leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Stay. We'll wait together."

"How long-"

"I'm not sure. Thirty minutes. Maybe longer."

She kicked off her yellow satin house slippers, curled her legs up under her and placed her hands in her lap. He kept stealing quick glances at her in his peripheral vision. Once or twice, he caught her doing the same. Minutes ticked by. The grandfather clock on the landing struck the half hour. Neither of them said a word.

After about fifteen minutes, Grace eased her feet down to the floor, slid her feet into the slippers and readjusted her position in the chair. "Would you like a sherry or brandy? I could get us something."

"No, thanks, but you-"

"No, I really don't want anything."

Time dragged. Jed checked his watch every couple of minutes, more for something to do than anything else. The grandfather clock struck eleven times. Just as the vibration from the last dong ended, Jed's cell phone rang.

"Tyree here."

"Yeah, the package is clean, but it's not something you want to let the lady see," Rafe said.

"I understand. I'll open the gates and be waiting on the veranda for you."

"Take a look at the pictures for yourself first, then tell her what they are, if you have to. But I'm telling you-do not let her see them."

Jed's gut tightened.

"I'm going to open the gates and disarm the security system while I go outside on the veranda and take the package," Jed told Grace. "You stay in here. And you need to know now that you aren't going to see what's inside your gift package."

"What is it?"

"Just do as I ask, will you? Stay in the house and let me handle this." She nodded. Damn, that was too easy, Jed thought. She'd agreed too quickly. "Go back upstairs, will you?"

"I'd rather wait here." She didn't budge from the armchair.

Jed got up and walked over to the controls hidden in a panel behind the staircase, punched in the code to deactivate the security system, then used another code to open the massive wrought-iron gates. When he opened the front door, he glanced over his shoulder to check on Grace. She didn't move or even look at him. He closed the front door behind him and waited for Rafe. In just a few minutes, the rental car Rafe was using pulled up in the circular drive. Jed went down the steps to meet his fellow Dundee agent. Rafe got out of the car and joined Jed. He held out a large manila envelope. Jed took the envelope, loosened the clasp, then removed the contents. Photographs. Police shots from the accident scene. A few of the shots were particularly gruesome and Jed wondered what sicko cop had taken them. Closeups of Dean Beaumont and Byram Sheffield, both dead and bloody. And a shot of an unconscious Grace. More photos. Some taken at the funerals. And one of Grace in her hospital room. Rage burned through Jed's veins.

Yeah, this was definitely Booth Fortier's handwork. It had his fingerprints all over it.

Jed shook his head. "This was a mild warning for Grace. The next one will be far worse."

Just as Jed started to slip the photos back into the envelope, intending to give them to Rafe, Grace came running out of the house and directly toward them.

"Hell," Jed cursed under his breath. He shoved the photos into the envelope and held them out to Rafe.

"Wait," Grace called. "Whatever it is, I want to see it."

"No, you don't," Jed told her and handed the envelope to Rafe.

She marched straight to them, planted herself between them and held out her hand. "Give me the envelope."

Rafe grunted. "Ma'am, you really don't-"

"Give them to her," Jed said.

Rafe hesitated for a couple of seconds, then gave Grace the envelope. "Call if you need anything else," he told Jed, then got back in the rental car and drove off.

Grace stared at the envelope for a couple of minutes before slipping the photos out and looking at them, one by one, studying them carefully. Watching her for a reaction, he waited for her to say something, but she said nothing. After she finished with the lot, she turned away from Jed and started walking back toward the house, the envelope loosely clutched in her hand.

"Grace?"

One by one, the photos dropped from her hand and floated onto the driveway, as if she were scattering rose petals. The envelope sailed downward and landed at Jed's feet. He ignored them as he followed Grace. When she reached the steps, she faltered. Damn! Was she going to faint?

Jed rushed toward her just as she staggered, her feet searching for the first step. When he put his arm around her waist to support her shivering body, she pivoted slowly around and laid her head on his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks. He pulled her into his arms and held her while she wept.

Grace lifted her head from Jed's chest and looked up at him through teary eyes. Hating herself for falling apart the way she had, she pulled back, disengaging herself from his strong, comforting arms. During those first few unbearable months after she'd lost her family, she had almost lost her mind, too. Once she had gone through her own personal trial by fire, she'd emerged a woman of steel. At least for the most part. She prided herself on not allowing her emotions to control her actions. But tonight, seeing those horrific photographs, she had reverted to that mentally fragile place she'd been right after the accident.