Page 29 of Hunted

Oh God. Please don’t let her walk away, too. Please.

Her small, sweet smile nearly killed him. “And who would this man be?”

His breath caught in his chest, and he forced himself to breath and relax. “Me. I want you, Leila. All of you. Your messy past, your messy life now, whatever your future brings. I want it all. Thomas, too. I want to share everything with you. I’ll be an open book, if you want me to be. Just please don’t leave. Move back in with me and stay. Stay forever.”

Stunned, Leila just looked at him. Wow. She’d expected him to maybe ask her to delay her flight so they could talk. She’d not expected him to hand her everything she’d ever wanted on a silver platter.

She tamped down the burgeoning excitement within her, the crazy thrill that wanted her to blurt out an enthusiastic “Yes!” immediately. She couldn’t just follow her instincts—not whenshe still didn’t trust them completely. She needed to think this through, make a rational decision. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Maybe we could find a quieter place to talk?”

“You’re staying?” He looked like an eager puppy trotting through the airport lobby beside her.

“Final call for boarding, Air Carib flight 3560 to San Juan. Repeat, final call. Thank you,” the announcer said.

“I guess I am. For now.” Leila swallowed hard, doing her best not to run over anyone’s toes with the wheels of her carry on. She stepped onto a moving walkway and struggled to keep her balance. Between the ground moving beneath her and the man she’d fallen in love with standing close enough beside her for his heat to penetrate her thin cotton shirt, it was difficult to feel steady.

At least Thomas was happy, chattering on. Not all of his words made sense, but that didn’t seem to matter. Clint was leaning over, talking to him like they were having a real conversation and looking totally adorable while doing it too, but she had to be smart about this.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and ignored the overwhelming urge to burrow into Clint’s arms and let him share her burden. He would. She knew he would. And he had asked her to stay. More than that, he’d claimed that he wanted to be a part of her and Thomas’s life, even promising to share his home and his life with her.

It was far more than any other man had ever given her.

When the moving walkway ended, he took the stroller from her, keeping up his conversation with Thomas as they rounded acorner into the sunny atrium on their way outside into the dry desert heat and over to the short-term parking lot.

“Leila?” Clint said, catching her arm as they arrived at his truck. “Please. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She was thinking so many thoughts. Some of them were hopeful and amazing. Others were more cautious. “I’m staying. Obviously.” She gave him a small smile. “At least for now.” She put Thomas in the car seat that was still in Clint’s truck while he loaded her suitcase and the stroller in the back. When she was sitting next to him on the front seat, she felt compelled to be completely truthful with him. “But that doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to the rest of it. I just got out of one situation with a man I had very deep feelings for, at one time. I’m not sure I’m ready to rush into another one.”

Dammit. Why had she said that? What was wrong with her? Back in the airport, before Clint had shown up, she’d been all about exploring a relationship with him, having a fresh start right here in Vegas, giving the connection between them a chance to grow into something more.

Now though, with him there, beside her, offering her exactly what she wanted, Leila hesitated. It seemed that her old fears weren’t quite conquered yet.

As they headed back toward his house on the outskirts of the city, she called her mother and told her there’d been a change of plans and that she’d talk with her more later. Then she spent the rest of the drive staring out at the arid landscape blurring past and saying a silent prayer, asking for a sign that this was the right decision for her.

Please God, don’t let me screw this up again.

Once they arrived at his house, she got Thomas out of the backseat while Clint retrieved her luggage and the stroller. They walked up the sidewalk to the front door together. Together, like a family would. Clint stopped on the porch, fumbling with his keys, his movements oddly stilted as if he was nervous. She found the thought endearing and found herself falling for him a little bit more, if that were possible.

He finally fitted the key in the lock and pushed the door open. Just inside, he turned to face her, the warmth and sincerity in his eyes making her heart ache. “I left the crib up and there’s still some of Thomas’s food in the kitchen, too, if he’s hungry. I’m really glad you’re here. Both of you.”

“Me get down,” Thomas commanded, and Leila put her son on his feet. He immediately dashed off to get the stuffed bunny that was sitting on the coffee table.

That wasn’t where she’d left it earlier. Clint must have put it there. Did that mean he’d been walking around his house, thinking of her and Thomas? It must.You wanted a sign, chica? Here it is.

“I’m glad we’re here, too.” Her pulse was racing, and her mouth was dry, but her nervousness was mixed with excitement. Before she could stop herself, she closed the distance between them and hugged Clint tight, burying her face in his neck and inhaling his scent. “And if you’ll have me, have us, I plan on staying this time.”

“Thank God,” he said, giving her a long and lingering kiss. When they broke apart, he smiled down at Thomas. “Hear that, little man? You and your mom are moving in. Maybe you guys can help me make this place a real home.”

She smiled up at him. She couldn’t seem to stop herself. There was nowhere else she wanted to be than with him. Together, they’d make this a beautiful and loving home. “Yes. We will.”

If she told the truth, though, it already felt like home to her.

17

Six months later…

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Leila squinted down the lane at Ask Questions Later gun range as the machine dragged her used paper target toward her. She’d kept up her lessons and was now pretty damned good, if she did say so herself. Actually, Clint agreed with her. The machine stopped in front of her, and she surveyed the three bullet holes in the target. Chest, stomach, and pelvis. Centre mass, just like Clint had taught her. Take down the threat first, ask questions later.

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