Tycoon Protector

A heavy lump settled in his gut and his jaw tightened. “So you can resign?” He took a turn a little faster than he’d intended, tires skidding on the still-hot pavement.

“Madre de Dios, Jackson! Could you slow it down? I’m not partial to getting car sick and I don’t relish being involved in a wreck.”

“Sorry.” He slowed, taking the turns at a reasonable speed, recognizing the physical effort it took him to keep his foot from ramming the accelerator through the floorboard. Once he’d eased onto Interstate 45 heading into downtown Houston, he willed his fingers to loosen their grip.

“In answer to your previous question…” She sighed. “Yes. Partly. I want to have this situation resolved before I leave the corporation. More than that I want to stop whoever is using Champion Shipping to smuggle deadly and illegal substances.” Her hands balled into fists. “We need to nail the bastard.”

A smile pushed Jackson’s lips up on the edges. That was his Ysabel. She had been the most loyal employee on his payroll, doing everything in her power to ensure the success of Champion Shipping.

“Thanks.” He shot a glance her way. “I guess that’s all I can expect.”

Her shoulders rose and fell on a deep breath. “Jackson, we need to talk.”

The lead weight in his gut flipped. “We need to talk” always meant she needed to say something and he wasn’t going to like it. He risked another glance her way, trying to read the expression in her profile and failing miserably. Out of the far corner of his eye, he caught a flash of headlights glaring off his side mirror. Before he could turn and look, a dark sedan raced up beside the compact car and slammed into the driver’s side.

Having relaxed his grip on the wheel, Jackson wasn’t prepared for the impact. The car jolted and skidded to the side, bounced against the concrete guard rail and swerved across three lanes of traffic. The dark sedan slammed into the back panel, setting the car into a spin.

“Holy Jesus!” Ysabel cried out, bracing her hands against the dash.

Jackson fought to regain control of the car, bringing it to a hair-raising stop on the far shoulder against a concrete barricade, facing oncoming traffic.

The smell of burned rubber and exhaust fumes filled the interior of the small car.

Ysabel scrambled for the door handle, frantically trying to unlock it.

“Stay in the car, Izzy.” He grabbed her hand, stopping her crazed attempt to get out. “We don’t know if that guy will come back and hit us again.”

“I don’t care. I have to get out.” She flung the door open and it crashed into the concrete. Then she dived out onto the ground.

Jackson jumped out and rounded the car.

Ysabel crouched on her hands and knees heaving, her entire body shaking with the effort. But nothing came up. The sound of her tortured gasps tore at Jackson’s heart.

He dropped to the ground and gathered her against him. “Izzy, sweetheart, breathe.” He sat back on the pavement, settling her in his lap. “Breathe, baby.”

Her pale face glowed in the moonlight, her cheeks shining with tears. “I’m sorry.”

“What have you got to be sorry about? I should have been paying attention.”

“I’m not usually sick.”

“I know, and that has me worried. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

She stiffened. “No.”

“I won’t take no for an answer.” He climbed to his feet, carrying Ysabel with him. “We’re going to the hospital. This isn’t right.”

“No. I’ll refuse treatment. Just take me home.”

“Okay, so no hospital. But you’re going home and I’m calling in my physician. End of subject.”

She stared at him, her face close enough to kiss, her eyes rounded, with dark smudges beneath them.

The need to take her lips was more than an urge, it was an obsession. If he didn’t think she’d slap his face, he’d have followed his desire. But Ysabel had had more than enough excitement for one day. He set her in the car and strapped on her seat belt, adjusting her seat back so that she lay fully reclined. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of you.”

AN hour later, Jackson had reported the hit and run to the police and managed to get the corporate physician to pay a house call at Ysabel’s apartment. With Jackson pacing the floor of her compact living room, Ysabel lay on her bed behind her closed bedroom door, a cold stethoscope pressed to her chest, willing the doctor to declare her fit and get the hell out.

Dr. Adams folded his stethoscope and shoved it into his bag. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?”Ysabel asked, her gaze darting to the closed door of her bedroom. Could Jackson hear their words through the wooden panels? She couldn’t afford for him to find out now. She had to think, make plans and get the hell out of Houston.

“It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure this out.” Jackson’s corporate physician smiled as if making a joke. “You’ve missed a period and you’re throwing up, otherwise you’re perfectly healthy.”

She buttoned her shirt and climbed off the bed, putting distance between them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve done the math. Question is, have you?” He waited, unmoving.

She teetered on the edge of lying again, but she’d had enough lying. “How accurate are home pregnancy tests?” Ysabel asked, her voice a soft whisper.

“They’ve been pretty accurate as long as you’ve gone past a period. I take it you’ve tested positive for pregnancy?”

Ysabel spun, a finger to her lips. “Shhh! I don’t want anyone to know.”

“You mean you don’t want Jackson to know?”

“That’s not what I said,” she argued, her words guarded, her brows drawing together. The doctor had guessed about her pregnancy, would he also guess the father of the child to be Jackson Champion?

Dr. Adams laid a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry. I respect doctor–patient confidentiality. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks.” Ysabel swallowed the vile taste of guilt and nodded. “What are you going to tell Mr. Champion?”

“I’ll tell him it might have been a mild case of food poisoning and that you’ll be fine. Not the truth but not exactly a lie.” He squeezed her shoulders in a reassuring grip. “Ysabel, I hope you have the good sense to let the father in on your secret. A man has a right to know he’s got a child on the way.”

She stared up into the man’s eyes, tears forming in her own. After a long pause, she dipped her head. “I will.” As soon as she knew how she could retain custody when the father of her child could buy half of Houston with the amount of money he had.

“Fair enough.” Dr. Adams opened the door and stepped out into Ysabel’s small living area decorated in bold shades of red, yellow and orange. “She’s fine, Jackson. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.”

“But why was she throwing up?”

“Hard to say without blood tests, probably food poisoning, but it appears as if the worst has passed.”

“Don’t you think we should take her to the hospital and run those blood tests?” Jackson stared over Dr. Adams’s shoulder to where Ysabel stood in the doorway.

Butterflies turned somersaults in Ysabel’s stomach. “I told you it was nothing. We don’t need to waste any more of the doctor’s time or burden the hospital with nothing but a little bit of food poisoning. Go home, Mr. Champion. Like the doctor said, I could use a little rest.”

Jackson’s forehead furrowed. “I’m staying.”

“If you stay, I’m sure to get no rest at all.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Ysabel realized how they could be misinterpreted and her face heated. “Just leave. I’ll be at work bright and early in the morning.”