Agent T3: d'Artagnan (Superhero Romance) (The D.I.R.E. Agency) (6 page)

Doing a mental checklist, she actually felt great. Dar had absolutely nothing to do with that.

Believe what you will, Jocelyn. He’s the center of your universe at the moment.

“I feel good, Doctor. No headaches, no nightmares.”

“Good.” He handed papers to Dar. “Here is her paperwork. Just call the nurses station when you’re ready to leave. They have to escort her out in a wheelchair.”

Dar shook his hand. “Thanks, Doctor. I’ll keep in touch.”

She went to the restroom to freshen up. “Do I have clothes?”

Looking in the mirror, she winced. Her face shown a pale watercolor of greens, blues and purples, her chin sporting a big, brown scab. Her left eye looked made up, the other bare.

Good God. No wonder he didn’t flirt with her.

He spoke around the door. “My sister’s friend, Glenna, dropped off a dress and some other stuff. It’s hanging on the back of the door.”

Shutting the door completely, she did indeed have a pretty dress in bold shades of blue and green hanging on the hook. A pair of strappy, blue sandals hung in a bag
.

No undergarments?

Pulling on the dress, she studied herself in the mirror. Now she knew why she needed no bra. The halter dress hooked at her neck and exposed her back down to her waist.

Could she wear something so risqué in broad daylight?

It fit a bit snug in the bust and fell to her ankles rather than her calves. The sandals were a size too big but she could manage. They would do until she got her own clothes.

She wrenched open the door. “Where are
my
clothes?”

Dar stared at her, mouth agape, as he took in her still form. Had she forgotten to fasten something?

“Put back on the hospital gown.”

A laugh bubbled from her throat. “Why?”

He gave her another slow perusal, his eyes teal in color. His fists clenched at his sides.

“You’re killing me, Joce.”

The tense set of his body, his dark gaze, brought her own arousal to the surface. Prickling skittered along her arms, her lower belly swirling in anticipation. She’d thought the dress fit snug in the bust before but, with his heated gaze staring at her chest, her breathing felt restricted.

“You have a thing for women who look like they brawl, do you?” Was that breathy voice hers?

Closing in on her, his nostrils flared. “The notion’s growing on me...”

Oh my. An aroused Dar Naylor appeared like a bull in front of a red flag. His lips found the area behind her ear
.

Her breath caught. “My clothes, Naylor?”

Stilling, he straightened away to look at her. “You only had the clothes on your back and they were ruined in the accident. Until we can get you, uh, home, we’ll have to make do.”

Wait a minute… “So, where are we going now? I’m not going home?”

He took her hand in his big fist. “My sister has a ranch just outside of town. We’re going there until we can figure out how to get you home.”

Her heart told her she belonged with him
.

The fear told her to be wary
.

She backed away. “You want me to go somewhere alone with you?”

The scowl on his face puzzled her.

“If you’ve got a better offer, I’ll leave right now.”

Fear stole her breath. Without Dar, she stood alone in a strange town, with her empty mind. If he walked out now, she’d lose what was left of it.

“I’m sorry, Dar. You’ve been nothing but nice and attentive-“

“Save it.” He waved away her words. “I’ll see if the agency can send someone else.”

Grabbing his arm, she turned him around to face her. “No,
you
save it.”

His aqua eyes glittered
.

“I don’t want someone else.”

“You don’t want me, you don’t want someone else. What
do
you want, Joce?”

Staring at his mouth, her heart pounded. She knew what she wanted. No doubt. The question was whether she could entertain her desires.

“I want you, Dar.” She trailed her hands up his chest to wrap around his neck.

His narrowed gaze took in every feature of her face before dropping to her breasts crushed against him. His woodsy spearmint scent hypnotized her with its sweetness
.

Cursing under his breath, he removed her hands from around his neck. He grabbed her leather bag from the chair and held out the rose to her
.

She snatched it away without touching him
.

“Let’s go,” he said. “We’ll sneak out a side door.”

He placed a big, warm hand at the small of her bare back. A violent shiver of arousal raced through her. Moisture pooled at her thighs.

He stopped mid-step. “Joce, hell, if I can’t even touch you…”

She whipped around, her chest heaving. “Dar, all I want you to do is touch me…”

Raising up on tiptoes, she crushed her mouth to his in a blatant, take-me-
please
kiss full of frustration and mind-boggling desire.

Wrapping his arms around her, his mouth felt warm, firm against hers. Her lip burned where it tugged her tender skin, but it didn’t detract from the absolute rightness she felt in his embrace
.

Touching her tongue to the seam of his lips, he opened for her. She pushed inside. He tasted of peppermint and heaven, his own tongue welcoming her with feverish impatience
.

When his arms tightened, she dropped her flower and tried to wrap both arms around his neck. Struggling to reach, he lifted her off the floor, never breaking the kiss. She smiled against his mouth
.

“I want you with me, Dar.” She ran her fingers through his shaggy hair
.

Giving her a sweet, lingering kiss, he said, “I wouldn’t be here unless I wanted to be.”

She didn’t know why her nightmares had led her to him. Perhaps, her subconscious knew her better than she knew herself.

He set her on the ground. “But, we can’t do this, Jocelyn.”

“I think we just did.” She rose on her toes and gave him another soft kiss.

Clutching the back of her head, he deepened it. Her heart raced against her ribs
.

Perhaps, she’d been a little hasty in her earlier assumption. That first kiss had nothing on this one. This one raised the hair on her arms, caused her lungs to work sporadically, and made every nerve ending in her body buzz
.

The man was giving her a lesson in the art, the absolute
art
, of kissing. Every stroke, every brush of his tongue painted a thrill along her spine. The sudden need to strip off her clothes rushed over her heated skin.

Breaking away, her breath came in short puffs. She slipped off her shoes and reached for the hem of his shirt
.

He stayed her hand with a strained laugh. “Hey, slow down, tiger.”

“All right…” She reached behind her neck for her clasp.

“Joce.” He laughed again before taking both of her hands in his. “Do you ever approach anything with caution?”

She stilled. “I don’t know, actually.”

“Exactly.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t want this to be something you regret.”

Her fingers trailed over his strong jaw. “I’ll never regret you, Dar.”

The heat in his aqua gaze cooled to frosted ice. Bending down, he picked up the rose and handed it to her. “Never say never, baby.”

Brody Tybeck kept a running, one-way conversation as he drove them out to Rachel’s ranch. He looked as country as Cody Brewster, but without the asshole angle. His weathered face had seen more than its share of sun and dirt, and he smelled of tobacco and minty mouthwash. He spoke to Jocelyn with ma’ams and missies, to Dar with sirs
.

Dar admired the respect he’d shown despite the fact he’d never met them. That attitude was so foreign to Dar’s former way of life it stood out like a bright star in a black hole. Just one of many things he’d learned to recognize.

Stopping at the ranch entrance, Brody got out to unlock the gate. As if she did it every day, Jocelyn slid over to the driver’s seat and drove the truck through the gate after he swung it open.

“Well, you remember how to drive.”

Jocelyn whipped around to stare at him, her eyes wide in her beautiful face. Scooting back to the middle of the seat, she settled beside him. “I do, don’t I?”

Brody climbed back in the truck. “Thanks, missy. You saved me some steps.”

She gave him a brilliant smile. “You’re welcome. What are all of these barrels?”

Hundreds of black barrels lined the drive up to the big, white rock house. Now he understood why the D.I.R.E. agents had gotten so frustrated. If he’d been assigned to dump out each barrel, replant the foliage inside, and do it in the hot sun, he’d be pissed, too.

“Those are oil barrels. The ranch has several working oil rigs.”

“That’s what that smell is? Oil?”

Brody pulled up to the house. “There’s no getting away from it here.”

Dar helped Jocelyn out of the truck. Brody came around and dropped the keys in his hand. “It’s filled with gas and ready to go. Just holler if you need anything. My cell number is on the dry erase board in the kitchen.”

Dar shook his hand. “Thanks, Brody. I appreciate the help.”

Jocelyn touched Brody’s arm. A deep blush stole over his tanned cheeks. “Yes, thank you. You’ve been too kind.”

“No problem, folks.” With a wave, he walked away.

Grabbing his duffle bag out of the back, Dar escorted Jocelyn inside. Cool air rushed over them as they stepped over the threshold
.

His sister was a damned Ewing
.

The grand foyer had a massive staircase that lead up to the floor above. To their right was the infamous gun room, their left, a huge living room complete with a set of longhorns mounted above the rock fireplace. Two hallways ran behind the staircase and out of sight.

“Oh my…” Jocelyn stared up at the second floor landing. “I’m going to get lost in this place.”

Dar’s home at Grand Lake had been massive, but he’d shared it with Robert and Cassandra, and had agents in and out all the time. Here, it would be him and Jocelyn
.

Alone
.

When she opened that bathroom door and stood before him in that dress, with every freaking, mouthwatering curve outlined in blistering detail, he’d almost taken her right there, on the spot
.

When she kissed him like she would swallow his tongue, he thought he might just embarrass himself
.

Now, all he could think about was shoving her up against the nearest wall and having his way with her
.

A string of curse words zinged through his mind. Those were not the thoughts of a man trying to walk the straight and narrow.

His inadequacies had owned that conversation in the hospital room.
Of course
, she should’ve been leery of going somewhere with him. He admired her for questioning his motives.

It was his attraction to her, his need for her to need
him
that boggled his mind.

You’re a freaking basket case, Naylor
.

“Let’s go upstairs and get you settled in a room.” Grabbing her hand, he moved to lead her up the stairs
.

She stood firm. “Why can’t we sleep in the living room?”

“The living room?”
We
?

She pointed beyond his shoulder. “Have you seen the size of that sofa and the bearskin rug? There’s plenty of room.”

A crystal clear image of her lying naked on that rug popped into his head. Jocelyn beckoning him with a crook of her finger, her dark eyes filled with hunger...

He squeezed his eyes shut. Dammit, he never should’ve kissed her.

“I really don’t like the idea of being far away from you,” she continued. “I guess I’m still a little… leery.”

Dar ran his fingers through his hair. Dammit, he got that. He didn’t want her to worry. But, he also knew if she slept next to him, it would be game over
.

He’d have her by morning.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He had a text from Rachel.

John Horner was Jocelyn’s beau. He died in the Guadalcanal Campaign in January nineteen forty-three. U can than
k me later
.


Cursing under his breath, Dar sent a reply.

U r not helping, dammit.

“What is that?” Jocelyn stared at him with questioning eyes.

“It’s a phone.”

She snatched it out of his hands. “A phone has a cord and a dial,” she said. “This is a small… box. What are these squares?”