His passion had been hunting and tracking killers.
He couldn’t become sidetracked now either. Not when his son’s life depended on it.
So he jerked his hand from her arm and forced himself to take a step back. “Go ahead. I can’t sleep anyway.”
“I can rest on the couch,” she offered.
“No, go.” A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Now.”
Jordan’s eyes flared with emotions he didn’t want to take the time to decipher. He needed her out of the room before he grabbed her again and kissed her the way his body was craving.
She either sensed he was on the brink of losing control or she thought he was a bastard because she disappeared into his room and shut the door.
Frustrated, he scrubbed a hand down his jaw. Images of Jordan lying in his bed teased him, tempting him to change his mind and join her, but he forced himself to step outside. He automatically felt inside his jacket for his gun as he settled down into one of the porch chairs and studied the woods nearby.
The ranch usually offered him peace, but in the early-morning hours with storm clouds threatening and the memory of the fear that had clawed at him when Jordan had called fresh in his head, peace eluded him.
He wouldn’t rest until Dugan and his accomplice were caught and in jail.
Or dead.
He would prefer the latter. The cold-blooded killer didn’t deserve to stay on this earth alive.
His cell phone vibrated inside his shirt, and he reached inside and removed it. When he saw Blackpaw’s name on the caller ID screen, he immediately connected the call.
“It’s McGregor. What’s up?”
“I may have something.”
Miles perked up. “What?”
“I looked back through the prison’s visitor’s log and it looks like Dugan had a repeated visitor, but his name had been erased. I’m going to the prison this morning to talk to his cell mate and see what I can find out.”
Miles’s heart raced. “I’ll meet you there.”
“What about Timmy?”
Miles stewed for a minute, guilt eating at him like a festering sore. But he felt out of control doing nothing here. He couldn’t help Timmy. Dugan was out there hunting for another victim. And either he or his accomplice—which he was almost sure now was an accomplice, not a copycat—had broken in and threatened Jordan.
The sooner he found how the accomplice and Dugan were connected, the sooner he could end this nightmare. If Dugan and his partner were in jail, maybe Timmy would feel safe enough to talk again.
“I’ll ask one of the security guards to watch him while I’m gone. This might be the lead we need.” And if the man refused to talk, he’d find a way to pound the truth out of him.
* * *
JORDAN INHALED MILES’S manly scent the moment her head hit the pillow. She didn’t bother to undress; she crawled beneath the covers, exhausted from the night’s ordeal.
But images of Miles sliding beneath the covers teased her mind. Did he wear boxers or briefs?
She toyed with the question, imagining him in both for a few minutes before she ordered her mind to regroup. She had taught other people how to control their emotions, how to compartmentalize, and she had to do the same.
Miles was off-limits. When he found this killer and Timmy had healed, she’d never see them again. She was way too smart to try to play substitute mother and wife or lover to a man whose heart lay with another woman.
Finally fatigue claimed her, and she fell into a deep sleep, so deep she barely heard the door squeak open. She managed to get one eye open, then felt the covers being pulled back. Then she spotted Timmy and patted the bed. “Want to climb in and sleep with me for a while, sweetie?”
He nodded, then climbed up beside her. She opened her arms and he curled up beside her. Her heart ached as she felt his small body shudder. She wondered if he’d had another nightmare, but she knew he probably needed sleep and so did she, so she simply held him close and let him snuggle up to her instead of pushing him to talk.
God, she was starting to love this child.
She fell asleep again, a more restful sleep this time, and dreamed that she lived on a ranch and had a family of her own. A sweet little boy and a man who cared about them both.
When she woke up later, she felt as if somebody was watching her, and fear snapped through her veins. She jerked her eyes open, then her heart jolted when she saw Miles standing above the bed.
Loneliness etched his face, sadness and longing echoing in his labored breathing.
“He won’t let me comfort him,” he said gruffly.
Jordan’s chest squeezed. More than anything she wanted to wrap her arms around this big strong man.
Forgetting all the reasons she shouldn’t touch him, she eased Timmy away from her, tucked him back under the covers, then rose and moved toward him. “Miles, it’s not you,” she whispered, not wanting to wake Timmy. “He probably just misses his mother.”