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told you?”

      “About the baby? Yes. I hope I didn’t hurt you when I knocked you down. I had no idea...”

      “I’d lots rather be knocked over than blown to bits, so thank you for saving me—us. When I saw your dog react that way, I didn’t put two and two together fast enough. If you hadn’t been there...”

      She raised her eyes to the apartment building. “I can’t see any damage to the outside.”

      “It wasn’t a large explosion,” Jackson explained. “I don’t think they actually intended to kill you. Not if they really do think you’re withholding information they need.”

      Nicki rolled her eyes. “I am not. What do I have to do to convince everybody of that?”

      “I don’t know that you can. Or if you should,” he replied soberly. “You might be better off if the criminals keep on believing you do have info they need.”

      Shoulders slumped, she exhaled noisily. “Okay. What’s next? How long before I can go back inside?”

      “Hours, at least. The bomb crew and our local techs need to comb the wreckage. If the captain okays it and you’re up to it, I suggest you go on to work for the present.”

      “Will that be safe?”

      “You’re safer in a crowd than you would be alone in that apartment.” He smiled. “Besides, I plan to accompany you.”

      “My boss won’t like it if you just hang around and watch me work. He never approved of my... Never mind.”

      Jackson assumed, judging by the face she was making, that she was remembering her now-absent boyfriend. How any man could abandon a woman like that, after what he’d done to her, made Jackson furious. “You’re sure there’s no way your ex could be the one harassing you?”

      “No way. After I told Bobby Lee about the baby, he said some really awful things and insisted he never wanted to see me again.” She grimaced. “I know it’s not him.”

      “You’re positive?”

      “Absolutely. He packed up and left the day we argued while I was at work. Friends tell me he was headed for Dallas. Personally, I don’t care where he is. As far as I’m concerned, good riddance.”

      “He’s a fool” was all Jackson dared say. If he had opened up and told her everything he was thinking, she would have been even more embarrassed.

      He’d always had a strong sense of honor, of right and wrong. Maybe that was why his job seemed to fit him so well. And why he felt such an undeniable obligation to step up and take care of Nicolette when her need was so great. She would never know how deeply, how personally, her plight affected him, of course, because he would never tell her.

      But he would be there for her, helping and guarding her to the best of his ability, for as long as she needed him to be. It wasn’t only because she might help the department solve a difficult case, either.

      Looking after her was simply the right thing to do.

      Whether she liked it or not.

      Whether she was helping the investigation or not.

      * * *

      During the drive to work, Nicki had visualized her poor apartment, imagining the worst. The place hadn’t been much to start with, but it was hers. The landlord had just repaired the door the police had damaged when they’d burst in to arrest Murke. No telling how upset the apartment manager was going to be when he saw what had happened today. She hoped there was insurance to cover this new damage because it was bound to cost a lot more than the broken door had, and she was pretty sure the authorities were not going to pick up the tab this time.

      She parked her trusty old sedan in the usual spot behind The Truck Stop Diner and paused to try to compose herself. She’d been just getting over the jitters left after Murke’s attack only to have her life thrown off-kilter once again.

      If the familiar police car hadn’t been following close behind her all the way, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to convince herself to go ahead and report for work. But there he was, on duty as promised.

      His dog was absolutely precious—so sweet-natured and friendly. Nicki smiled to herself, noting that both man and canine had the same dark, silky hair and puppy-dog brown eyes.

      She looked in the car’s mirror and fastened her long hair out of the way as her job required. Two quick twists of an elastic band and she was good to go. “I can do this,” she told herself. “I’ve worked here so long I could fill the orders in my sleep.”

      A smile lifted one corner of her mouth as she climbed out of her car, locked it and pocketed the key ring. Considering her lack of adequate sleep since Murke’s break-in, and the adrenaline she had expended today, she just might doze off at the grill. The books she’d read about pregnancy had said to expect changes in her metabolism, but they hadn’t told her how tired she’d be. Of course, those writers hadn’t allowed for repeated attacks and terrifying threats, either.

      Nicki glanced over to the visitor section of the lot where Jackson was parking the police car, then started for the back door leading to the kitchen. Wafting odors of burnt grease and accumulated garbage overflowing the trash receptacle instantly set her stomach churning.

      Seeking to escape the cloying stench, she held her breath and chose a roundabout route instead of heading straight for the door.

      A shadowy figure, hardly more than a blur, appeared for an instant in her peripheral vision. If she had continued along her usual path without diversion they could have collided!

      Startled, Nicki shrieked. Whirled around. Started to run without waiting to see who or what had scared her.

      A dark shape loomed directly in front of her. She crashed into a hard chest and would have fallen if the man had not quickly grabbed and steadied her.

      Clenching her fists, she began to beat on him.

      “Whoa. Take it easy. It’s me. It’s me.”

      As the voice penetrated her fog of fear, she realized it was familiar. Gasping, she looked up at Jackson Worth and managed to croak out, “Somebody tried to grab me!”

      “Are you sure? Where? I didn’t see a thing.”

      “Back by the trash bin.” She struggled to catch her breath.

      Bright lights twinkled at the corners of her eyes. Her head spun. Her legs refused to support her.

      She could sense that she was being lifted and cradled protectively just as the parking lot vanished and blackness wrapped her like a warm blanket.

      Fighting was useless. Surrender felt too good.

      * * *

      Bearing his lightweight burden, Jackson shouldered through the front door of the main service station complex and carried Nicki past racks of cellophane-wrapped snack food and into the dining area. Their passage generated a few raised eyebrows but apparently his uniform, badge and gun were enough to keep any of the truckers or other customers from interfering.

      As she began to stir, she slipped an arm around his neck, laid her cheek on his chest and clung to him as if she knew what she was doing. That was troubling. So was his reaction. Having her show such reliance felt far too good. It was also something he could not permit. He’d learned the hard way that romance and being a cop did not mix.

      He lowered her to sit on the edge of one of the green plastic booth benches, unwrapped her arm from his neck and steadied her as she regained full consciousness. Her color was wan, her eyes blinking rapidly.

      When she pushed him away, he realized that her earlier actions must have been instinctive rather than an effort to sway his opinion of her. That was definitely a good sign—a point in her favor.

      A chubby, uniformed waitress appeared at Jackson’s elbow with a glass of ice water. He nodded as he

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