Beverly Barton - Guarding Jeannie

"I don't understand," the nurse said. "His heart monitor showed signs of another attack."

"Machines make mistakes." Sam glanced at the nurse with cold gray eyes.

"Damnedest thing I've ever seen," a male nurse said. "Dr. Howell is fine. He's sleeping peaceful. All his vital signs are normal."

"Arrange for a private-duty nurse for Dr. Howell," Sam said. "I'm taking Ms. Alverson home. You have the number of Dr. Howell's rental house, don't you? If his condition changes, contact me."

* * *

Sam undressed Jeannie and laid her, naked and exhausted, in the bed. She had regained consciousness briefly on the drive to the cottage, but once Sam assured her that Julian was fine, she'd drifted off to sleep, unable to fight the total depletion of her strength.

Both beds in the two-bedroom cottage were doubles, neither really long enough or large enough to accommodate Sam's height and size. He'd chosen the room on the back of the house, the quieter, more secluded one, the one that would be sheltered from the morning sun. He didn't want anything disturbing Jeannie's rest.

He'd found some expensive brandy in the kitchen, obviously belonging to Julian. Sam poured himself a shot, downed it in one swallow, then put the liquor away. He didn't want anything dulling his senses, putting him at any disadvantage if he had to confront Reeves. After making a ham sandwich, he devoured it quickly and returned to the bedroom. Jeannie had thrown off the covers and lay in the middle of the bed, her small, sleek, naked body tossing back and forth.

She moaned as she squirmed about in the bed. "Sam … Sam…"

Leaning over the bed, he brushed the hair out of her face, then kissed her forehead. "I'm here, angel. I'm here."

Sighing, she turned toward him, cuddling into a ball. Sam placed his Ruger on the bedside table, then removed his clothes. His body throbbed with desire. Straightening the covers, he folded them at the foot of the bed, lay down beside Jeannie and drew her into his arms.

He didn't fall asleep until nearly dawn, awakening only when the phone rang at ten-fifteen. Jeannie moaned and cuddled closer to his back, but didn't awaken. When he reached for the telephone, his hand grasped his Ruger. He shoved it aside and picked up the receiver.

"Dundee here."

"Mr. Dundee, this is Marta McCorkle. I'm at the hospital with Julian. He's fine, but he's concerned about Jeannie."

Sam glanced at the sleeping beauty curled against him. "She's all right, but still sleeping."

"Would it be all right if I stop by to see her after I leave the hospital?" Marta asked. "I know she'll be eager for an update on Julian, and a report on the Howell School children."

"If she's awake, you can see her," Sam said. "I won't wake her. She needs her rest."

"Of course. I'll stop by sometime after noon. When she wakes, give her Julian's love. And mine."

"I'll do that." Sam hung up the phone.

Sam's stomach growled. He was hungry as a bear. He'd eaten twice in the past forty-eight hours. Easing away from Jeannie so that he wouldn't disturb her, he got out of bed, pulled the cover up to her shoulders, and picked up his wrinkled slacks. Dressing hurriedly, he went into the kitchen. Within minutes he'd set the coffee machine, put bacon on to fry and cracked six eggs into a skillet.

Jeannie found him cooking breakfast in his bare feet, wearing rumpled trousers and an unbuttoned shirt that hung open, showing the center of his broad, hairy chest.

"Are you fixing enough for two?" she asked from where she stood in the doorway.

He continued scrambling the eggs. "How long have you been standing there?" he asked, knowing precisely the moment she'd walked out of the bedroom three minutes ago.

Jeannie tightened the belt on her silk robe. "I can't imagine a more charming sight than a man busy at his domestic duties."

Sam guffawed as a wide grin spread across his face. He glanced up from his cooking, and his heart stopped for one breath-robbing moment. Jeannie stood in the doorway, her long hair falling down her back and over her left shoulder. Leaning on her cane, she put one foot in front of the other, exposing her right thigh between the open folds of her robe. Her round, full breasts pressed against the silk material, her nipples plainly outlined.

His body tightened. His heartbeat drummed in his ears. He wanted to forget breakfast, forget everything, and take Jeannie back to bed and make slow, sweet love to her all day.

"Come on in and take a seat," he said, trying to control his baser instincts. "I think I can spare a few bites for you."

She walked toward him, her gaze moving from his face over every inch of his body, returning to the bulge in his pants. "Breakfast could wait, couldn't it?" She stopped a foot away from him and smiled. "I woke up hungry." She laid her hand on his chest, then smoothed her way downward. "But not for food."

Drawing in a deep breath, Sam grabbed her hand a second before she reached her destination. "I'd like nothing better than to feed that hunger." He slid his arm around her, pulling her up against him as he lifted her hand to his lips. "But for now, you'll have to settle for scrambled eggs and bacon. Marta's on her way over here. If we hurry, we might be able to finish breakfast and catch a quick shower before she gets here.

"We could skip breakfast and go straight to the shower." Spreading apart his unbuttoned shirt, Jeannie smeared a row of tongue-moist kisses across his chest.

He cupped her buttocks, lifting her up and into his arousal. "Angel, you're being a very bad girl this morning."

"I like being bad with you, Sam."

"After you eat a good breakfast, take a shower and visit with Marta, I'll let you be as bad as you want to be." Releasing her, he grunted, then breathed deeply and gave her a gentle shove backward, keeping his hands on her arms to make sure she didn't lose her balance.

"Promise?" she asked. "I'm fine, you know. If you're worried that I'm not recovered from—"

"Stop talking, Jeannie," he said. "I'm having a hard enough time keeping myself from laying you down on the kitchen table and taking you right here and now, without your trying to persuade me to make love to you."

"I like knowing how much you want me. I like it even better when you tell me."

"Yeah, well…" Sam seated her at the table, then turned back to the stove, dished up the scrambled eggs and added three strips of bacon to Jeannie's plate. "Eat up." He placed the food on the table. "I'll get you some coffee."

They ate in silence, occasionally glancing at each other. Jeannie smiled; Sam frowned. She took her shower first, while he cleaned up the kitchen. He showered while she called Julian.

Marta arrived at one o'clock on the dot, hugging Jeannie profusely, assuring her that Julian looked the picture of health. While Marta visited, Sam took the opportunity to survey the cottage and the surrounding yard.

"Everyone at the school misses you terribly," Marta said. "The children ask about you continuously. They really didn't understand exactly how you were helping them, but they're well aware that things have changed since you've been gone."

"As soon as this problem with Maynard Reeves is solved, I'll return to work. I miss the children. I miss all of you."

"Will he be staying?" Marta nodded toward the yard, where they could see Sam surveying his surroundings.

"You mean, will he stay after I'm no longer in danger, when I don't need a bodyguard?"

"Yes. Will he?"

"I don't know."

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Jeannie lowered her head, avoiding Marta's direct stare. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only to those who know you well and love you dearly." Marta rose, walked across the living room and sat down on the sofa beside Jeannie. "Somehow I never pictured you with a man like Sam Dundee. He's too … too—"