Neither of them said anything after that, and the room seemed to shrink even more. He could actually feel them breathing the same air. She was almost close enough to kiss.

Dear Reader,

I would like to thank all of you who take the time to send fan letters to your favorite authors.

Over the years, I’ve received some very special fan letters. In fact, I received an amazing e-mail today. A reader from England wrote to tell me about a British-based book club that read the 2008 Mills and Boon release of Always Look Twice (my 2005 Silhouette Bombshell). According to the letter, they all believe that “Agent West is the greatest hero in the history of fiction,” and some of the book club members may be working on an Agent West fan site.

I’m honored and awed that one of my heroes stirred this kind of reaction! It’s great timing, too, because Agent West plays a minor role in Protecting Their Baby. He tends to crop up now and then, reappearing as the FBI guy that he is.

And speaking of heroes, Rex Sixkiller, the male protagonist in Protecting Their Baby, was inspired by a reader of Cherokee descent who offered to let me borrow the Sixkiller name. I kept the name in the back of my mind, waiting for the right character to embody it.

That said, I love hearing from my readers. You are the reason I write.

Best,

Sheri WhiteFeather

Protecting Their Baby
Sheri Whitefeather

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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SHERI WHITEFEATHER

is a bestselling author who has won numerous awards, including readers’ and reviewer’s choice honors. She writes a variety of romance novels for Silhouette. She has become known for incorporating Native American elements into her stories. She has two grown children who are tribally enrolled members of the Muscogee Creek Nation.

Sheri is of Italian-American descent. Her great-grandparents immigrated to the United States from Italy through Ellis Island, originating from Castel di Sangro and Sicily. She lives in California and enjoys ethnic dining, shopping in vintage stores and going to art galleries and museums. Sheri loves to hear from her readers. Visit her Web site at www.SheriWhiteFeather.com.

To Lisa, my sister’s dance teacher in Oregon—

here’s to hot guys and red high heels!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 1

I’m screwed, Rex Sixkiller thought.

He should have known that Lisa Gordon was going to spell trouble. He’d pegged her as a good girl from the start. Then again, she had gotten dirty that night.

Yeah, with the help of extra-dirty martinis.

He stared at Lisa. She was seated across from him in his L.A. office, and he’d never been so scared in all in his thirty-six years. Yes, him. A decorated Desert Storm veteran, a licensed private investigator and a Warrior Society activist.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She responded with a jerky nod. She looked like the good girl she was, with a blond bob and innocent blue eyes. Her long, lean, sinful body was another matter. Of course she was a dance instructor who owned her own studio, so her knockout figure was well earned. She looked the same as the night he’d met her at the bar.

She twisted her hands on her lap. “I did one of those home tests, and then I saw a doctor to confirm the results.” Another twist. Another nervous reaction.

He wished they were back at the bar. He could use a stiff belt about now. “So much for the protection, huh?”

She went clinical. “The doctor said that if a condom is used correctly, the chance of becoming pregnant is less than three percent. If used incorrectly, a twelve percent chance occurs.” Her breath hitched. “Maybe we did something wrong.”

He shook his head. He never got sloppy with a rubber, not even after a couple of drinks. Besides, Lisa had been tipsy that night, not him. “The condom probably had a defect we weren’t aware of.”

A baby-making leak, he thought. How else could his little swimmers have gotten through?

In the silence, an uncomfortable connection passed between them, a reminder of their one-night stand, of sizzling sex and an awkward morning after. In the light of day, it had become apparent they had absolutely nothing in common. He remembered how they’d politely exchanged phone numbers, with no intention of ever calling each other.

And now here she was, six weeks later, pregnant with his child.

“Are you planning to keep it?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. Why else would she approach the father? A practical stranger? An abortion would be simpler without him.

“Yes, I’m going to have this baby.” To emphasize her point, she placed a protective hand over her still-flat stomach. Then she said, “But I did consider adoption.”

He leaned forward in his chair. He was seated behind his desk, and she was on the other side of the wooden barrier. “You did?”

She nodded. “I’m adopted, and I have an amazing family. But I’m ready to be a mom. I think I’ll be good at it.”

Rex didn’t have an amazing family. He’d watched his parents bitch and bicker. Sometimes they used to direct their frustration at him—the product of an unplanned pregnancy and forced marriage. They should have gotten divorced, but they were still together, miserable as ever. Rex had decided long ago that he would never get married, and it was a vow he intended to keep.

Not that Lisa expected him to marry her, but he still feared that he was on the verge of losing his freedom. Rex worked hard, but he played hard, too. He had no idea how a child was supposed to fit into his lifestyle.

“I understand if you want a paternity test after the baby is born,” she said. “But just so you know, I haven’t been with anyone in almost a year, except for you.”

“I believe you.” He didn’t doubt that the baby was his. He’d been a P.I. long enough to rely on his instincts, and Lisa was as honest as Abe Lincoln’s reputation. He would have preferred to pin it on another guy, but he couldn’t.

“I appreciate that you trust me.”

He shrugged, waited a beat, and then said, “I don’t think I’m going to be a very good father. But I’ll do the best I can,” he added quickly.

What else could he say? He couldn’t very well tell her to buzz off and leave him alone. He was a bit more honorable than that.

A bit…

Lisa seemed to be analyzing his bad-dad remark and debating if she should comment on it. Luckily, she skipped it, saying instead, “I think it’s important for a child to have two committed parents, but I would have raised this baby alone if I had to. If you’d…”

Refused to accept responsibility, he thought. If only he could, if only he had it in him to walk away. “If we’re going to share a kid, then we’ll have to work on getting to know each other.”

“Yes, we will.”

She started wringing her hands, much in the way she’d done earlier. Apparently she was nervous about getting to know him. Clearly, he wasn’t her usual type. Clearly, she’d misbehaved that night.

Dirty martinis and dirty sex.

And on her thirtieth birthday, no less. Rex considered the tiny life in her womb and winced accordingly. Was this the Creator’s idea of a joke? A gift for her big three-oh?

Once again, silence stumbled between them. They were off to a hell of start with this getting-to-know-each-other thing. She wasn’t his usual type, either.

Still, on that fateful night, they’d flirted shamelessly. They’d even fed each other shelled peanuts and kissed on the dance floor.

By the time the bar closed, they’d been desperate for more. He’d invited her back to his condo, and she’d readily accepted. Of course she hadn’t been totally irresponsible. She’d gotten his name and address from his ID and given it to her girlfriends, just in case he was an ax murderer and she was never heard from again.

He’d promised her friends that he would be good to her. Now he wondered if those same friends knew about the baby and if they blamed themselves for letting the birthday girl go home with a stranger.

Not that they could have stopped her. She was an adult, capable of making up her own mind.

Her own intoxicated mind.

Damn, he thought. Did that even count?

“I should go.” Lisa cut into the quiet, preparing to leave. “I have some errands to run.”

Rex glanced up from his desk. “I’ll walk you out.” Somehow it seemed like the right thing to do, even if allowing her to make a hasty retreat would’ve been easier.

“I parked down the street and around the corner.”

“No problem.” Parking spots in this area were difficult to come by. She was lucky she’d found one relatively close.

He opened the office door for her, and they walked side by side. She smoothed her blouse, a pretty white garment tucked into a slim black skirt. She looked sleek and professional. He wondered how long it would take for her to develop a bump and if people were going to refer to him as the “baby daddy.” Wasn’t that the phrase of the day? The thing to say?

The spring weather was warm and bright, and the city was active and noisy. As he and Lisa rounded the corner and headed down a small side street, she pointed out her car.

She drove a vintage Mustang, but he wasn’t surprised by her vehicle of choice. While they’d chatted at the bar, she’d told him that her grandfather restored old cars.

“I’ll probably get something newer when the baby comes,” she said. “Maybe an SUV.”

A kid car, Rex thought. Already she was turning into a soccer mom.

“But there’s still time.” She managed a smile. “I’ve got a ways to go.”

Would he be even more scared by then? Or would it get easier? “A friend of mine is going to be a dad soon. His kid is due sometime this month. He’s married, though.” A point that made their situations nothing alike. “He teaches close-quarter combat, and his wife is a homicide detective.”

“Wow.” Lisa stood beside her car. “That’s going to be one tough little baby.”

“Tough and sweet. They’re having a girl.”

“A girl would be nice. Or a boy,” she added, referring to the baby she’d made with Rex. “I don’t have a preference.”

Neither did he, other than wishing the condom hadn’t failed. Uncomfortable, he shifted his feet. She fell silent, too, and they went back into awkward mode.

How long would it take for them to have a relaxed conversation? To feel normal around each other?

“I’ll call you after my next doctor appointment,” she said. “Just to let you know how things are going.”

“Sure. Okay.” He supposed it was a place to start, even if he wasn’t prepared for any of it.

She unlocked her car and opened the door. But as she turned to climb behind the wheel, she froze in her tracks.

And let out a blood-curdling scream.

On the front seat of her car was a doll that resembled a newborn, only its rounded little body was mangled, with broken limbs and unblinking eyes staring into nothingness. In the center of its tiny chest, where its heart would be, was a knife.

Equally horrified, Rex reached for Lisa, pulling her away from the gruesome sight and into his arms.

While he held her, while she burst into fear-drenched tears, he called the police, reporting what appeared to be the mock murder of their unborn child.

Lisa couldn’t seem to let go of Rex. Nor could she stop crying. Who would do something so sick? So cruel?

Finally, she got the strength to step back and wipe her tears. But she couldn’t stop from staring at Rex, and in between her shivers, she fixated on his eyes.

The doll had brown eyes, too, and a tuft of dark hair. Was that how their baby was going to look?

“I don’t understand.” Her voice echoed in her head, the sound thick and hoarse. “Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know,” came the concerned reply. “But I won’t let anyone hurt you or the baby.”

Would he be able to protect her? He couldn’t be with her every moment of the day. They barely knew each other. Still, she wanted to believe him, to take his promise at face value.

“You’re awfully pale,” he said, as they waited for the police.

“Sometimes I faint.” She clenched her middle. “But it’s normal early on.”

Rex seemed ready to catch her if she fell. He was certainly more stable than she was.

“Do you need to sit down?” he asked.

“I should be okay.” She removed a small bottle of water from her purse and took a sip. “This may help.”

“You’re not going to pass out?”

She shook her head. A moment later, she feared that she’d spoken too soon. She got dizzy. “I think maybe…”

Rex moved in to grab her. She didn’t lose consciousness, but she clung to him for support, her senses on alert. He smelled fresh and clean, like a walk in the woods. It was his cologne. She remembered it from before. Thank goodness she still found his fragrance appealing. Since the pregnancy, some previously pleasant scents roiled her stomach.

Everything about him was appealing: the width of his shoulders, his height, his stunning cheekbones, the short, sleek thickness of his straight dark hair.

Before she got too attached, she took a deep breath and severed their contact, standing on her own again.

On the night of her birthday, she’d taken an uncharacteristic risk by going home with him, and now she was carrying his child.

A child someone had threatened to kill.

Anxious for the police to arrive, she glanced toward her Mustang. She didn’t wonder how the door had been unlocked and then relocked. A wire hanger or a slim jim or whatever those devices were called would’ve done the trick. Vintage cars were easy to access.

Lisa took another sip of water. Rex was watching her, and his concerned scrutiny made her self-conscious. He reached out to smooth a strand of hair away from her cheek, where it stuck to the slight dampness of her skin. She suspected that she had mascara streaks running down her face, too.

The police finally showed up. One of them, a stout detective named Bell, eyed Rex.

“Don’t I know you?” the detective asked.

Rex nodded. “You worked on a case that involved some friends of mine. Daniel Deer Runner and Allie Whirlwind.”

“Oh, that’s right. You and Deer Runner are part of the same Warrior Society.” Bell gathered information while his partner processed the crime scene. “So, what’s going on here? What’s the significance of the doll?”

Rex responded, “Lisa is pregnant.”

The detective opened his notepad. “Are you the father?”

“Yes. She just told me about it today.” The P.I. explained his whereabouts, being in his office with Lisa, then walking her to her car.

Bell tapped his pen. “Do all of you Society guys have women who are being threatened?”

“She isn’t my woman,” came the candid response. “It was just one night.”

“I see.”

Bell glanced at Lisa, but didn’t say anything to her. While he interviewed Rex, she wondered what the Warrior Society reference meant. Did Rex belong to a club or organization? And what was the deal about their women being threatened? She didn’t like the sound of that.

She stole a glance at the doll. The other detective was taking pictures of it.

Soon Bell left Rex to his own devices and interviewed Lisa. He spoke gently, as if trying to put her at ease. Did he think she might break? That she was as fragile as her appearance? Now she wished that she hadn’t cried.

When he asked her who she thought could have done this, she was at a loss. She didn’t have any enemies, at least not that she knew of. The questions continued, but she wasn’t much help.

“Maybe somebody saw something,” Lisa said, even though the side street was mostly back lots and alleyways.

“We’ll be looking for witnesses,” Bell assured her.

She glanced at Rex. By now, he was jotting down license plate numbers of other parked cars.

Bell followed the line of her sight. “Your friend is going to conduct his own investigation. But he’ll be sharing information with us, too.”

It seemed odd to hear the father of her child being referred to as a friend. But it was as good a description as any. “He offered to protect me.”

“Then maybe you should let him.”

A short time later, she and Rex were dismissed, and they returned to his office, leaving her vehicle for the police to finish examining.

Once they were inside the Sixkiller Investigations building, Rex said, “I want you to come home with me.”

Déjà vu, she thought. She’d heard those words from him once before. But this time she assumed it was because he wanted to talk about the case.

“If you’re not up for the drive, you can ride with me,” he said. “After your car is released, I can arrange to have it brought to my place.”

“I can drive.” She needed to prove that she had inner strength, no matter how frightened or exhausted she was. “But first, there’s something I need to know.” She looked into his eyes, trying not to be become fixated on them again. “What’s a Warrior Society?”

He held her gaze. “In my case, it’s an intertribal group of former military men who defend American Indian rights.”

“So, it’s an activist organization?”

“Yes.”

She should have known that Rex wasn’t a passive man, that his Native roots defined him. Instinctively, she touched her tummy. Her baby was going to be part…

Part what? She didn’t even know what tribe Rex was from. Up until now, she hadn’t considered the cultural differences between them.

She questioned him again. “Why did Detective Bell make that comment about women being threatened?”

“Because he worked on a Warrior Society–related case that involved a stalking. But it’s unlikely this situation is related to my activism. I only found out about the baby today. It’s doubtful that someone associated with me would have known that you were pregnant.”

“Maybe they saw us in the bar. Maybe they’ve been following me ever since.”

“Hoping we would reconnect? I haven’t seen you since that night. We haven’t even talked on the phone. Tailing you to get to me wouldn’t have made much sense.”

“So you think that whoever did this is associated with me?”

“Yes, but I’m going to investigate every angle. I won’t rule out a Society connection, not until I know for sure.”

Lisa didn’t know what to think, if the baby was being threatened because of her or because of its father.

Either way, she agreed to go with him. Because going home alone didn’t seem like a very good option.

Chapter 2

After the police released Lisa’s car, she followed Rex to his house, and the entire time she was in traffic, the knifed doll loomed in her mind. She’d never been so grateful when his complex came into view.

He offered her a seat on his leather sofa. The condo was decorated in dark woods and masculine fabrics. Laminate floors, textured walls and floor-to-ceiling windows provided contemporary ambience. The balcony in his bedroom overlooked the pool. She remembered the view.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“A little.” She knew that she needed to eat.

“Is Chinese okay? I can have it delivered.”

“That’s fine.”

He rummaged through a kitchen drawer and retrieved a take-out menu. She chose an entrée and handed it back to him.

While he ordered the food, she noticed the magazines on his coffee table, which ranged from sports publications to men’s entertainment—the kind with centerfolds.

But what did she expect from a free-wheeling bachelor?

“Do you have a theory about all of this?” she asked.

He sat beside her. “All of this?” He made a grim expression. “You mean, the threat? I think the perpetrator is angry at you for getting pregnant.”

“Do you think he or she is trying to scare me into having an abortion?”

“Probably.”

There was no way she was going to terminate her pregnancy. “And if I don’t? Then what? Will this person—this perpetrator—try to make me miscarry? Or attempt to kill the baby after it’s born?”

He put his hand on her knee. “I won’t let it go that far.”

Lisa hoped he was able to live up to his claim. She wanted to feel safe, but at the moment, she was still scared. At least Detective Bell seemed to think that Rex was capable of the job. That gave her a measure of comfort.

He frowned. “You still look pale. Do you need to lie down before the food comes?”

On the sofa? Or in a guest room? Surely not in his room. Last time when she’d awakened beside him, naked as the day she was born, she’d turned shy. She remembered tugging at the sheet and struggling for something to say.

“Lisa?” he pressed, reminding her that she hadn’t answered his question. He even squeezed her knee.

“I don’t need to lie down.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Disturbed by her memories, her muscles tensed.

He was astute enough to quit touching her. He removed his hand from her leg. He paused before he said, “I’d like to interview you. But it can wait until after we eat.”

“That’s fine.” She suspected that he would be repeating Detective Bell’s questions, along with a vast number of his own. She had no idea how personal the interview would get, but she prepared herself for the worst.

Not that she had anything to hide. She lived in a cozy old house, enjoyed the chaos that came with running a dance studio and spent Sundays with her family.

Not exactly the kind of life that lent itself to deranged threats.

Their meals were delivered, and he shoved the magazines aside, toppling a few of them. He put napkins, plastic forks, wooden chopsticks and soy sauce packets on the coffee table, along with the take-out containers.

“Do you want a soda?” he asked. “Or some milk?”

“I’ll take a soda.”

“Wouldn’t milk be better for you?”

“Probably, but it sounds icky with Chinese food.”

“How about herbal tea instead? That works with chow mein.”

She couldn’t help but smile. He was being an attentive host. “You don’t seem like the herbal tea type.”

He smiled, too. “I have my moments.”

He certainly did. He got up to brew the tea, and her heart went haywire, kind of like when she’d seen him across the room at the bar.

When he returned with two cups of orange pekoe and a plastic squeeze-bottle of honey, she’d already picked at a portion of her food. He sat on the floor and ate his with chopsticks, which made him seem like a trendy L.A. guy. She wondered if he’d grown up in the city. With Rex, it was difficult to tell.

They finished their lunch in silence. Grateful for the tea, she asked for a second cup. He still had water leftover on the stove, so he poured it for her. She sipped the mild brew, letting it warm her insides. The interview was about to begin.

“How many people know about the baby?” he asked.

“A lot,” she admitted. “I told my family and closest friends. The other instructors at my studio know, too, as well as some of the parents and older students. We teach kids and adults.” She placed her cup on a napkin. Rex hadn’t provided a coaster. “I fainted a few times at work, and that got the gossip mill going. I figured there was no point in denying it.” She made a gesture with her hands, creating a pregnant belly. “Eventually I’m going to show.”

“How many of them know that a man named Sixkiller is the father?”

“By now? Probably all of them. Why?” She thought about the brown-haired, brown-eyed doll. It certainly looked more like Rex than herself. “Do you think this is racially motivated?”

“It’s something to consider, especially since the threat was made while you were in my company, and the doll seemed to favor my genetics.”

So he’d noticed, too. Well, of course, he did, she thought. He noticed everything.

He continued. “But I’m not ruling out other scenarios.” He handed her a pen and paper. “I’m going to need a list of your family, friends, students, employees, everyone who knows about the baby.”

She got offended. “My friends or family would never do this. It has to be a stranger.”

“They can’t be too much of a stranger if they know that you’re pregnant and I’m the father.”

Troubled by his logic, she wrote down the names he’d requested, which was a major feat, considering how long the list was. Still, she refused to believe that someone she cared about was out to hurt her. There had to be another explanation.

“Do you have a big family?” he asked.

“Aside from my parents, I have one set of grandparents, some aunts, uncles and cousins.”

“Be sure to include them.”

“I am.” But none of them would ever knife a doll. “We have dinner together every Sunday.”

“You’ll have to invite me to the next gathering. I assume they’re curious about me.”

“You assume right.” But inviting him to dinner so he could analyze everyone didn’t sit well.

He took the completed list. “How does your family feel about the baby?”

“My parents are thrilled about becoming grandparents. Everyone else has been supportive, too.”

“They’re not concerned or ashamed about you being an unwed mother?”

“Concerned, yes. Ashamed, no. My family isn’t judgmental. Well, maybe my great-aunt Annabelle is, but she’s almost ninety years old.”

“I’m still going to check her out.”

“Go ahead.” Annabelle could barely get out of her wheelchair, let alone terrorize her pregnant niece.

Rex continued the interview. “Is there anyone who tried to talk you out of having the baby?”

“No.”

“What about your girlfriends who were at the bar?”

“They offered to have a baby shower for me when the time comes.”

He changed tactics. “Tell me about your old lovers. Former boyfriends, short-lived affairs and other one-night stands.”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve had two serious boyfriends, and no quickie affairs. As for one-nighters, you’re it.”

“So, you’ve only been with three men, including me?”

“Yes.” Did he consider that unusual for a single woman her age? She wondered how many women he’d been with, but this didn’t seem like the time to ask. He was already forming another question for her to answer.

“Did your old boyfriends ever get aggressive with you? Or were they overly possessive during or after your relationship?”

“No. I was with Jamie during high school, but it fizzled out during our college years. The last I heard, he’s married with children of his own now.”

“And the other boyfriend?”

“Kirk? We dated for two years, but when we moved in together, we realized that we’d made a mistake. It never got bitter, though. We decided that we were better off as friends.”

“How friendly are you?”

“Lunch now and then.”

“Does he know about the baby?”

She nodded. “But I can’t imagine him—”

Rex cut her off. “Write his full name down. Jamie, too. I’m not leaving any stones unturned.”

“Are you going to do the same thing with everyone you know? Are you going to investigate your family and friends? Your old lovers?”

“I already told you that I was going to investigate every angle.”

But would he be as thorough blaming his side as he would be blaming hers?

“I think you should stay with me until this is over,” he said, catching her off guard. “That’s what Daniel did when Allie was being stalked.”

Although she was curious about the other couple, she didn’t want to mimic them. “I can’t stay with you.”

“Why not?”

Yes, her mind asked—why not? He was obviously trying to make good on his promise to protect her.

“Maybe you could stay with me instead.” Her home, her pregnant-lady turf, a situation she could control. Or so she hoped.

“I guess I could. I guess it doesn’t make a difference which of us goes where.”

It mattered to her, and by the time he got to her house, she suspected it would be an issue for him, too.

She couldn’t imagine him fitting into her world any more than she could envision fitting into his.

Nonetheless, they agreed to live together, but only until the perpetrator was caught.

Rex carried his bags into Lisa’s cottage-style house and got the urge to run. Clean yet cramped, the decor was decidedly feminine. Already he was drowning in floral prints, lace curtains and painted woods. He wished he’d insisted that she stay with him.

“You don’t like what I did with it,” she said.

Good call, he thought. Regardless, he tried for polite. “It’s fine. It’s nice. Just point me in the direction of my room.”

She led the way instead. He checked her out from behind, then asked himself what the hell he was doing. He’d already planted a life in her womb. He didn’t need to create more trouble.

The guest room was small, painted in pastel colors, with a single window that overlooked a thriving vegetable garden.

“Do you rent or own?” he asked.

“I’m a homeowner.” A fact of which she seemed proud.

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