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out of the way, slid on the ice, rolled down a small grassy embankment and, apparently, right into the
path of an oncoming car. It must have had chains and good brakes, because it barely brushed me. I had
a concussion and I sprained my wrist from the way I landed." She held it up to show him the bandage.
"They kept me for observation, and bandaged my wrist. I'm all right."
She was giving him only the bare bones. She looked paler than ever, drawn, worried. He hated
knowing that she could have been killed.
"Did you tell the doctor not to release the information on your chart to anyone?" he asked.
She blinked.
"Yes." She had, because she was afraid Tate might find out about the accident and start digging. She
didn't want him to know about the child.
"Why?" he asked curtly.
She met his eyes, trying not to let the uneasiness she felt show.
"Because it's nobody's business but mine," she replied emphatically.
His expression was so grim that she added, "I don't have anything fatal, if that's why you look so
worried."
He seemed to relax a little. Not much. He leaned forward to study her. The bruise high up on his cheek
where Matt had hit him had gone away. "Who has a reason to want to kill you?"
She linked her hands together in her lap.
"I can't imagine that I have enemies myself. Maybe somebody was after Colby," she added, voicing
one fear she hadn't been able to shake.
"He does some freelance work, and people know that he spends a lot of time here," she added matter-
of factly
"Yes. He spends a lot of time here," he said icily.
"So, in other words, maybe they were trying to get at Colby through you."
She nodded.
"It's rather far-fetched, though."
"Not so far-fetched. It could even have been someone trying to settle a score with me," he said
irritably, running a restless hand through his short hair. He glanced at her.
"Then there's Matt Holden."
She nodded.
"That's what I thought. A lot of shady people lost a lot of their ill-gotten gains because of him, and
several of them are facing jail terms over what happened at Wapiti." She shifted her legs.
"They want revenge. They can't get to Matt or Leta. He has around-the-clock protection. It's highly
unlikely that they'd target Tom Black Knife again. And only an idiot would go after you," she mused.
"I seem to be the one weak link in the chain, and Leta and Matt are fond of me. Maybe they decided to
go after someone they could get. At least, that's how it seems to me."
He nodded solemnly.
"That's the same conclusion the man who's watching your apartment and I came to."
She shifted again, trying to get more comfortable.
"What are the odds of getting me in the witness protection program?"
she jibed. "About as good as my odds of getting the lead in the next Batman movie. You didn't see
anything that you could testify to."
She sighed.
"Then if you've got someone watching me, can I assume that he can use a gun if he needs to?" she
asked uneasily.
"Yes. But you're my responsibility..."
"I am not." Her voice was much calmer than her turbulent eyes.
"I've been your responsibility for the past eight years. That's over.
I live alone. On any normal day, I can take care of myself. All I need is someone to watch out for me
until this blows over and the ringleaders of the plot go to prison."
His expression wasn't reassuring.
"Cecily, people escape prison terms all the time through technicalities or well-meaning jurors.
There's no guarantee of a conviction. Even if there is, these people have plenty of clout on the outside.
They can pay someone to get to you, or have someone on the outside do it for them."
She felt sickness whirl in the pit of her stomach. He was outlining a nightmare. It was worse than he
could imagine, too, because he didn't know about the baby she was carrying. She looked at him
hungrily, wishing she could tell him. But the news wouldn't be welcome. She didn't dare tell him about
the child.
"I'm not leaving you alone, even with a good shadow," he said firmly.
"So either you move in with me, or I sleep on the couch here. Your choice."
"Where will Audrey sleep?" she asked coldly.
He looked outraged.
"At her own apartment," he said flatly.
She was really in the fire now. She couldn't stay with him; she had morning sickness. Tate wasn't
stupid. It wouldn't take him long to connect her continual nausea and fatigue with pregnancy. She
couldn't have that.
"I can stay with Matt and Leta when they come home," she lied. Leta would see her pregnancy long
before she was told about it. She didn't dare go and stay with Leta, but she wasn't telling him that.
Tate knew she'd be safe with his parents. But it wounded him that she was so determined not to let him
protect her. He and Audrey had gone together to the wedding because he didn't want to face it alone.
Perhaps he'd done it deliberately to wound Cecily, too, for hiding the truth from him and telling lies
to the press. But Audrey had become so possessive and insanely jealous that he hadn't seen the woman
since the wedding. He wanted to tell Cecily that, but her expression told him she wasn't going to
believe him. He couldn't blame her. He'd traded on his relationship, such as it was, with Audrey for
too long already.
He'd played hell, and his lack of foresight was coming back to haunt him.
"Or I can stay with Colby when he comes back," she added deliberately.
She even smiled.
"He'll take care of me."
His black eyes narrowed. "He can barely take care of himself," he said flatly.
"He's a lost soul. He can't escape the past or face the future without Maureen. He isn't ready for a
relationship with anyone else, even if he thinks he is!"
She didn't rise to the bait.
"I can count on Colby. He'll help me if I need it."
He looked frustrated.
"But you won't let me help you."
"Colby isn't involved with anyone who'd be jealous of the time he spent looking out for me. That's the
difference."
He let out an angry breath and his eyes began to glitter.
"You have to beat the subject to death, I guess."
She managed to look indifferent.
"You have your own life to live, Tate. I'm not part of it anymore.
You've made that quite clear."
His teeth clenched.
"Is it really that easy for you to throw the past away?" he asked.
"That's what you want," she reminded him. There was a perverse pleasure in watching his eyes
narrow.
"You said you'd never forget or forgive me," she added evenly.
"I took you at your word. I'll always have fond memories of you and Leta. But I'm a grown woman. I
have a career, a future. I've dragged you down financially for years, without knowing it. Now that I
do..."
"For God's sake!" he burst out, rising to pace with his hands clenched in his pockets. "I could have
sent you to Harvard if you'd wanted to go there, and never felt the cost!"
"You're missing the point," she said, feeling nausea rise in her throat and praying it wouldn't
overflow.
"I could have worked my way through school, paid for my own apartment and expenses. I wouldn't
have minded. But you made me beholden to you in a way I can never repay."
He stopped pacing and glared at her. "Have I asked for repayment?"
She smiled in spite of herself.
"You look just like Matt when you glower that way."
The glare got worse.
She held up a hand.
"I know. You don't want to talk about that.
Sorry. "
"Everyone else wants to talk about it," he said irritably.
"I've done nothing but dodge reporters ever since the story broke. What a hell of a way to do it, on
national television!"
"Matt didn't have much choice," she stated.
"If he'd tried to keep it under wraps, the media frenzy would have been even worse. He's a powerful
member of the Senate. He had to think about damage control or kiss his career goodbye."
Tate knew that, but it didn't make him feel much better.
"They need to go back to news four times a day instead of around-the-clock," he said.
"They've got too much time to fill and not enough real stories to fill it with."
"Don't tell me," she said.
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