Heart of Gold - By Tami Hoag Page 0,4

amusement. He’d been called a lot of things in his day. Snippy was not among them. Damn, she was cute … but it wasn’t his job to think so.

When his gaze swung back to her, it held the sharp glint of steel. “Mrs. Gerrard, the federal government is willing to spend time and manpower protecting that pretty little fanny of yours. The least you could do is cooperate.”

“All I’ve done from the start of this nightmare is cooperate,” Faith insisted, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the fact that he’d commented on her derriere. She crossed her arms in front of her to keep from running her hands over the seat of her jeans. “I’ve been a veritable paragon of cooperation.”

“Mama?”

Shane watched with keen interest as Faith went to her daughter and knelt down. The little girl was adorable. Four years old, the file had said, a cherub with a heart-shaped face framed by red-gold waves. There was a smudge of flour on her button nose. Her eyes were the same sable shade as her mother’s, and they sparkled with curiosity as she peered over Faith’s shoulder at him.

“Who’s that, Mama?” she asked shyly.

“Nobody, sweetheart,” Faith said, trying nonchalantly to scoot around so Agent Callan wouldn’t be able to stare at her behind.

Shane scowled. Nobody, huh? The little one smiled sweetly and waved a chubby hand at him. Something caught hard in his chest. He tried to ignore the feeling as he awkwardly lifted a hand to return her salute and then self-consciously ran it back through his hair.

Rolling her eyes, Faith frowned at him, then turned back to Lindy. “Sweetie, it’s almost time for supper. Why don’t you take your baby to your room and put her to bed?”

Lindy shook her head, an impish smile curving her mouth. “She’s not sleepy.”

“She will be by the time you get to your room,” Faith assured her. She pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Go on now. Be a good girl.”

Tossing Shane a heart-stealing smile, Lindy snuggled her doll, then turned and headed back down the hall. Faith remained on her knees for a moment, watching her daughter walk away. A day didn’t go by that she didn’t thank God for Lindy. When everything else in her world had seemed bleak and hopeless, Lindy had unfailingly provided her with sweetness and light. She was doing it still, Faith realized as she rose and turned to face Shane Callan once more.

“I imagine we can clear all this up with a phone call,” she said pleasantly. After all, she’d been raised to have good manners. And she had learned to deal with all sorts of people during her twelve years in Washington.

Of course, none of them had rattled her the way this man had. Not even the Arab sheik who had offered her former husband nine camels for her.

She could feel Callan’s gaze as he followed her. Electricity ran down her back in warm rivulets. Beneath her sweatshirt her nipples were tight knots. She became suddenly, acutely aware of her rear end. He must have been staring at it, the infuriating man. She tugged her sweatshirt down and tried not to wiggle as she led the way down the hall.

The inn’s office was a small room, neatly kept, but crowded with a walnut desk and a four-drawer filing cabinet. The wallpaper was feminine and flowery with a background that women probably called mauve, Shane thought.

He shook his pounding head in disgust. Lord, he was losing his edge, going on about wallpaper. But then he had known he was losing his edge. He had just spent a week in a hospital nursing a bullet wound that proved it. Now Banks had stuck him on this glorified guard duty. After three years spent in undercover work, this was probably just the kind of assignment he needed, but that didn’t make him like it any better.

He leaned against the doorjamb in a negligent pose as Faith went behind the desk. All he wanted right now was a hot meal and a soft pillow. The thought of a hot, soft woman was judiciously edited from the list as he dragged his gaze from Faith for the hundredth time. He was nursing a major case of jet lag and the remnants of a hangover. For two cents he would have bid this assignment adieu and gone south for some sun, but it was too late for that.

To escape his own introspection, Shane forced himself to study Faith with the cool,