He tried not to groan. She was sex incarnate and he mentally cursed the instantaneous rush of desire.
Why couldn’t she be twenty years older than him or ugly as hell? Just because she had a sexy voice didn’t mean the face and body had to match, did it? And the feisty personality that went with the package fueled his interest even more. She had guts and bravado, he had to give her that. What a turn-on.
“Where do I sleep?”
A thought came to mind, but he cast it aside as a really bad idea. “You have two choices,” he explained, mentally cursing his lowered voice. “In the bed, or out on the couch.”
Damn if her eyes didn’t immediately turn to the empty side of the bed. He squirmed under the covers. There went her arms, crossing in front of her like a shield of armor.
“I didn’t mean in the bed with me. If you want the bed, I’ll take the couch.” Then again, maybe he should have waited until she decided.
No, Tyler. Bad, really bad idea.
“The couch is short and you’re too tall,” she said. “I’ll take the couch. Could I have a blanket?”
He picked up one of the pillows behind him and tossed it to her. “There’s a blanket on the back of the couch.”
She lingered, clutching the pillow in a death grip, staring down at his crotch with a look so hungry it was physically painful. Don’t stay, walk out of the room. I’m strong, but not that strong.
“Goodnight,” she said in a near whisper.
“’Night.” He turned and flipped off the bedside light, leaving her in the dark. Hopefully, she’d scuttle out of the bedroom before he did something really stupid—like kiss those oh-so-kissable lips of hers.
* * * * *
Nevada tossed, turned, flipped the cover off and then on again. She sighed, cursed quietly and threw mental daggers at the man sleeping soundly in the next room.
He was a terrible host.
This wasn’t a slumber party, she didn’t want to be here and damn him for making her feel like an intruder.
The pillow carried his scent. Dark and dangerous, a musky, sexy smell that fit the man perfectly. She sat up, punched it and flopped her head back down. Staring at the dark ceiling, she listened to the sounds of his rhythmic breathing. At least he didn’t have any trouble going to sleep.
Not only had her life changed abruptly in the blink of an eye, but she was in an unfamiliar house, with no clothes and no personal amenities. To top it off, a sexier-than-hell man slept a few feet away. She had no earthly idea what was going to happen next. This kind of situation didn’t set well with her at all.
Sleep wasn’t coming. She finally gave up and propped the pillow against the back of the couch. More than anything, she wanted, needed to be in control of her life. Too many bad things happened when she wasn’t.
She hadn’t meant to screw up Tyler’s mission—it had just happened. And now she was paying the price for risking her life to save a voice on the phone. Tyler “Midnight” Call would have been better left as a fantasy. Someone to play with in her mind, indulge her sexual fantasies, then put away in the deep recesses of her brain until the next time.
Her fantasies had conjured up a sexy, virile, movie star type of agent. Okay, maybe he was all that, but she also pictured him as gallant, caring, warm and loving. She snorted out loud at how ridiculous that notion was. And she didn’t care if he heard. It was her fantasy, after all.
* * * * *
Tyler woke early, as usual. Not one to vary from routine, he rose just before dawn and planned a morning run. He threw on a pair of gym shorts and sleeveless shirt, grabbed his tennis shoes and headed into the living room.
The first rays of the sun peeked through the window next to the front door, casting a soft glow upon the woman asleep on his couch. He sat on the chair next to the couch to put on his shoes. Okay, mainly to watch her.
She was tangled up in the covers, one tanned and slender leg thrown over the blanket. His T-shirt rode up her thigh, lending him a vision he wasn’t prepared to handle.
Her back faced him, her long dark hair a tangled mess. He resisted the urge to reach out and smooth his hand over her exposed thigh, but damn if he didn’t ache to slide the cotton shirt up over her hips and caress the skin he knew would feel as soft as velvet.
He needed to get out of there.
Too late. She stretched and turned over on her back, raising one arm over her head. The shirt lifted over her hips. Of course, she just had to push the blanket off with the other hand.
He tried not to groan too loudly as he glimpsed the skimpy white string bikini panties barely covering her sex. Dark curls pushed out from the flimsy vee of the panties. He’d bet they’d be soft as silk to the touch. Maybe he’d just sit there for a while and watch her change positions.
No. Run. Don’t think, just run.
This woman was a complication, a hindrance, he reminded himself as he tiptoed out the front door and headed down the steps to begin his run.
The mission was a mess, he had a million things to do and the last, absolute last, thing on his mind should be the sexy woman in his care. But sure as hell, that’s where his mind wandered—over and over again.
He blew out a couple quick breaths and set into a run, hoping the oxygen would help clear his head. Following the trail he’d laid out years earlier, he concentrated on his pace, pushing, but not too hard. He filled his lungs with deep breaths of morning air, thinking of nothing but each step, each mile.
By the time he returned to the house, he was calmer, more in control.
After his run, he stepped quietly in the house. Nevada was still asleep, so he started coffee, then showered and dressed. By then, the coffee was ready and it was time for Sleeping Beauty to rise.
“Hey,” he said as he shook her shoulder. She moaned and slapped his hand away. “Nevada, wake up.”
She turned one half-opened eye on him. “What time is it?” Her voice sounded way too morning-after sexy, which only irritated him since he didn’t get to experience the night-before part.
“Almost eight.”
“Ick. Go away.” She pulled the covers over her head.
“How much sleep do you need?”
“More than what I got,” she mumbled. “I was awake almost all night.”
“I see. Well, the coffee’s on. Nothing in the fridge to eat since I haven’t shopped yet, but I’m sure you can find something in the pantry. I’m going out for awhile.”
She waved a hand at him. “Yeah, okay. Bye.”
He shook his head, grabbed his keys and left. After retrieving his SUV, he headed down the driveway, pushing buttons from the hand-held security device that activated the perimeter system. His houseguest would be safe.
First things first. He’d have to see about getting said houseguest out of his house, and out of his life. He was an agent, not a bodyguard. Or a trainer.
God. He couldn’t believe he had to field train a new agent. Like he had time to hold her hand and watch out for her while he was trying to do his job at the same time. What a mess. This whole scenario could royally screw up his mission.
No, it wouldn’t. He just wouldn’t let it happen. When he had a mission, the mission always came first.
The sexy agent wannabe would just have to take a back seat for now.
Chapter Three
Nevada’s back ached from what little sleep she’d managed on the couch from hell. In addition, she needed a comb, a toothbrush, other personal items and some clean clothes. And there was no food in the house.
Obviously, Tyler was trying to kill her. He was so angry with her about last night, he’d decided to abandon her until she starved to death.
She vaguely recalled a conversation with him earlier, but how much earlier she couldn’t recall. The clock read noon and she’d been up for an hour, scrounging through the pitifully barren kitchen cabinets in search of something edible. The only things she found were saltine crackers and some cheese in a jar. Just what she wanted for breakfast.
> At least it was food. She wandered around the house, dropping a trail of cracker crumbs behind her like Hansel and Gretel.
The house was small, just one bedroom and bath, kitchen and living area. A tiny computer desk sat against the wall in the living room, presumably where a television would have gone, if there’d been one. No TV, no radio, no sound. Not a single book or magazine in the place and she’d looked everywhere.
Sensory deprivation, another form of torture. He was starving her to death, depriving her of both biological and sensory sustenance.
Nevada giggled. Her mother had always called her a drama queen and she’d certainly made a soap opera out of her current state. She should feel lucky to be alive at all under the circumstances.
If she didn’t have anything to watch, listen to or read, she’d just have to find something else to do.
She passed by the back door. Last night it had been too dark to look outside. When they’d arrived, the thick woods blocked her view of everything but the little house in the clearing. She pushed aside the tiered curtain covering the back door window and a wonderland opened up before her eyes.
The house sat on the edge of a gorgeous, blue lake!
She’d always loved the water, eagerly anticipating summers with her parents. Summer meant camping, swimming and boating, then roasting marshmallows at night and sleeping under a starlit sky.
But that was when she was still little. Before her mother’s illness took her away too soon and her father’s complete withdrawal into alcoholism took him to a place she couldn’t reach. His death a year later left Nevada without a single living relative. Two deaths within a year, neither of which she could prevent.
She shook off the memories and opened the back door, hoping the sunshine and fresh air would clear out the dark cobwebs of the past.
The heat was oppressive, sucking the oxygen from her lungs. She struggled to inhale a cool breath. The humidity was unbearable today and by mid-afternoon would be brutal. She longed to slip out of her T-shirt and plunge into the cool lake water.
Maybe she’d just go down and take a look, even put her feet in. There were large, flat stepping-stones leading the way from the door to the wooden dock and she followed them toward the water.
Beautiful. Secluded, not another house or dock in sight. Nevada sat at the end of the dock and dangled her feet in the cool water, debating whether to slide in with the T-shirt on or risk skinny-dipping. She looked around but couldn’t see a thing. The tall trees, which by light of day were a mixed bag of oak, sycamore and birch, surrounded the lake. There were no other signs of life around her. No houses, piers, inhabitants, nothing to indicate Tyler had any neighbors within shouting or, more importantly, viewing distance.
It was so hot she began to sweat, the shirt clinging to her breasts. Tyler’s scent permeated the shirt, a sweet musky smell that had more to do with the man and less with cologne. Part of her restless night had been caused by that seductive scent of his, and knowing a shirt he had worn touched her naked body.
Now she was really hot. Considering the underwear she wore was the only pair she had here, she made a quick decision. She hurriedly undressed and slid feet first into the cool water.
* * * * *
Tyler hadn’t found out any more this morning than he’d known last night.
His friend Dylan Maxwell, NCA code name Legend, squinted amused blue eyes across the table. “Say that again? You were rescued by an analyst?”
Tyler knew he shouldn’t have said anything, but Dylan knew as much about him as he’d allow anyone and he needed a professional ear. He’d just have to endure the teasing first. “I didn’t need her to rescue me. She stumbled onto the place right at the time I was ready to make my escape.”
“Uh-huh.” Dylan took a bite of his sandwich and arched a knowing brow as he chewed. “You’d have gotten out all by yourself if she hadn’t shown up, right?”
If Tyler didn’t like Dylan so much he’d be pissed. “Yeah, I would. I saw the vent, figured it for an exit and waited for an opening to get the hell out of there.”
Dylan leaned back against the café’s chair, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Whatever you say.”
Tyler pushed aside his irritation at the thought of being saved by Nevada. “Anyway, did you find anything?”
“No. The truck was gone by the time we got to the warehouse and hasn’t been seen since. It’s been moved to another location or maybe it’s far out of town by now. And no sign of our elusive Smith either.”
Tyler sighed. Smith was the code name for whoever was responsible for coordinating the biggest meth lab operation in the country. Every NCA division was on the lookout for him and Tyler had spent months monitoring the newest meth lab setup in his four-state jurisdiction. He thought he’d finally gotten somewhere by planting the homing device on the truck. By now, the beacon had most likely been discovered and destroyed.
Dammit all to hell anyway. If it hadn’t been for Nevada showing up, he’d have been able to slip away unnoticed last night, the homing beacon firmly implanted on the truck.
“So, now what?” Dylan asked.
“Now it’s back to square one, I guess. Try to find a link, a clue that will lead us to Smith.” And in the meantime find a way to get out of his latest assignment of playing babysitter to Nevada.
“What’s she like?”
“Who?”
“You know who.” Dylan smiled and leaned across the table to whisper her code name. “Velvet.”
“She’s about like I expected.” Hot. Sexy. Exotic.
“Too bad. Beaten with the ugly stick, was she?”
Tyler laughed. “Yeah, something like that.” He’d be damned if he’d tell Dylan that Nevada was beautiful. Let him find his own girl.
Let him find his own girl. What was he thinking? Nevada wasn’t his. Never was. Never would be. She was an assignment and nothing more.
But Dylan knew him well. “Why do I get the idea you’re keeping the secret of Velvet to yourself?”
He shrugged. “No secrets to keep. I have to guard her, train her and hopefully dump her as soon as it’s safe.”
“You sound thrilled.”
“You have no idea.”
Dylan took a long swallow of tea and pushed his plate to the side. “If she’s that inept, just tell the agency she’s not field agent material.”
Trouble was, she wasn’t inept. What she’d done last night, while stupid, had shown guts and initiative on her part. He couldn’t argue with the commander’s assessment of the situation, because despite the inconvenience to him, gutsy agents were hard to find these days. She might be a greenhorn at field escapades, but he’d bet she was a quick study.
“It’s not that bad. Bad timing more than anything.”
“And maybe she struck a chord in you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe she’s not hideous looking, and…hell man, when was the last time you got laid?”
Too long to remember. The job had been keeping him busy night and day. “It’s been awhile, but she’s not my type.”
“When you’re desperate, any woman is a man’s type,” Dylan offered, waggling his eyebrows.
Tyler started to argue the point, but the shrill sound of his beeper shot him upright in the chair. He yanked it off his belt and scanned the alert code. The perimeter at the house had been breached! He cursed and leapt from the chair, knocking it over.
Dylan was beside him in a second, running. “Need backup?”
He nodded. “Follow me!”
They jumped into their cars and raced down the freeway. Fear tightened Tyler’s gut at the thought of Nevada being in danger. He had to hurry!
The drive took way too long in his estimation, even though they’d only been on the road about ten minutes or so. Nothing seemed out of place when he pulled in front of the house and leaped out of the car.
He and Dylan tiptoed to the front door and opened it, guns drawn, checking it room by room. Not
hing was out of place but Nevada was nowhere to be found. Where was she? Did someone break in and take her?
No way. No one knew about this place and no one trailed them last night. He was one hundred percent sure of that fact. So the alarm had to have been triggered by something else.
He ran out the back door, Dylan close behind. The first sounds he heard were the splashing noises coming from the end of the pier. He stopped suddenly and crept toward the water, crouching low and staying hidden in the shrubs.
Nevada was out there. She was alone, thank God. His heart hammering and the blood pounding in his head, Tyler leaned over and rested his palms on his knees in an effort to catch his breath. Dylan inched up behind him.
“What’s going on?” he whispered.
“Nothing. She’s alone. She must have set off the perimeter alarm when she crossed the end of the pier to swim.”
“So, she’s okay?”
More than okay. Naked in fact, floating on her back in the middle of his lake. Hell and damnation if she didn’t look like a water nymph, a siren beckoning him with her water-glistened body. He was too far away to see her in any detail, but close enough to feel the discomfort in his jeans.
He should be pissed as hell, but for the life of him, the only emotion he could muster was relief that she was unharmed. And a tingling sensation in his gut that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with sex.
Dylan laid a hand on his shoulder to move him out of the way. “Let me take a peek.”
Tyler whirled and covered the available peeking area with his body. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on. She can’t be that bad.”
“She is. Trust me. And you just had lunch.”
Dylan laughed, pushed Tyler aside and strode toward the dock. “Let’s go meet your houseguest.”
This was going to be uncomfortable. For everyone.