Page 46 of Big Bad Wolfe

“Are you afraid of me?” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Of course not. I appreciate your willingness to protect us.” She smoothed her hair behind an ear with trembling fingers. “I am worried about the consequences of making Richard mad, though. You’d better believe he’ll go all Drama Queen in court with today’s encounter.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. He’ll twist everything around to claim you threatened him and insist to the judge that you’re not a fit parent.”

“That sadistic fuckhead will raise Casey over my decomposing body!” He checked his watch. “Get your—and the kid’s—go-bags.”

A shocked violet gaze shot to his. “Zane, you want me torun,now? But you made me promise—”

“We’re going to quit playing defense and launch our offense.” Grabbing her hand, he towed her toward the house. “We’re not running. We’re getting married. Today.”

Chapter 8

Reeling like she’d been broadsided by a bus, Jillian had to sprint to keep up with Zane’s long-legged stride. “What?Today?That’s impossible!”

“The longer we wait, the more time we give Richard and Brooke to load their arsenal. I don’t want that heartless bastard having any more visitation, either. If I have my way, Casey will never spend another night under Richard’s roof.”

Appreciation for his direct, take-charge capability warred with bewilderment. “But getting married in Oregon takes a minimum of three days. I have to make plans, contact my family—”

“Forget all that. We’re flying to Reno. And until it’s a done deal, the less people who know, the less complicated and safer for all concerned.”

“Reno?” she parroted.

“Closer, faster, and slightly classier than Vegas, but we can still marry immediately. Pack whatever else you need and arrange a sitter for the kid while I make the arrangements. Don’t tell anyone else the plan. Be ready to head to the airport in one hour.”

“You’ll arrange … An hour? Not tellanyone?”she echoed again. “But I’d really like to have at least my dad and Loucinda present when I get married.”

“I’ve been to a wedding in Nevada. Most of their chapels provide witnesses if necessary.”

“But … they won’t be family. And I don’t even have a dress. Three days isn’t that long. Don’t you think—”

Then she glanced over and saw Casey, his nose pressed against the living room window, his little face uncertain and vulnerable and still somber after the ugly encounter with Richard.

He needed her. Needed Zane.

Needed them both firmly united on his side.

Zane stopped inside the front entrance and turned to face her. He cupped her cheek in one big hand, radiating steely resolve. “I won’t let anybody do to Casey what my father did to me and my brothers. We have to get married, Jillian. Right now.”

His fatherhad been the one who’d abused him.She’d surmised as much, but hoped she was mistaken. The thought of Zane as an innocent, hurt child aroused every protective instinct she possessed. She ached to enfold him in her arms and hold him. But he’d scorn both her embrace and her sympathy. Deny himself the comfort.

He’d been badly wounded by his ownfather.The one person who should’ve been his biggest champion. No wonder he had a difficult time dealing with emotions … and trust.

Scalding anger seared her, and she clenched her fists. Her throat constricted until she couldn’t speak.

So she simply nodded.

* * *

Faster than she’d ever thought possible, a still shell-shocked Jillian found herself boarding a Reno-bound plane. Zane had chartered a chopper to whisk them from the coast to Portland International in record time to make the flight. He’d pulled rank at the airport using his FBI clearance, and they’d bypassed security lines and skipped the tap-dance of waiting barefooted to send their shoes and bags crawling through the scanner.

And although Portland to Reno was only a ninety minute flight at the most, he’d booked first-class. A luxury she didn’t expect, but greatly appreciated. Two cushy, padded reclining chairs instead of being squished into sardine rows—heavenly!

As Zane stashed their carry-ons in the overhead compartments, Jillian scooted into the window seat. Casey and Aragorn had been sent happily off with “Poppy” Dean—who’d been handed a story about a potential new charitable donor for the center which required a quick presentation trip—along with an emergency supply of Aragorn’s peanuts, boxed sets ofStar WarsDVDs, and five hastily scribbled pages of instructions, “just in case.”

Loucinda had granted her several “personal” days off work between rapid-fire questions, which Jillian had dodged. Her friend had also promised to help Dean manage his unexpected houseguests.

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