by Hahn, Joni
So, what are you waiting for?
Damn, he hoped he knew what he was doing. “Tell Mitchell I’m in. I’ll join The D.I.R.E. Agency.”
Chapter 3
The sound of running water woke her. Sitting up in bed, she cocked her head.
It came from her lavatory.
Someone was in her bathroom.
Looking around, she needed to find a gun. Something to use as a weapon.
Spotting a leather bag on her table, she reached over and pulled it into her lap. Rummaging around inside, she found a gun and checked the chamber.
No bullets. Rats.
It would have to do.
Sitting up on the side of the bed, her head swam. Bracing herself on the mattress, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Weakness would not hinder her. She had to stay alert.
Standing up, her legs wobbled slightly, the floor frigid beneath her bare feet. Approaching the bathroom with careful movements, her heart pounded against her ribs in staccato beats. She darted into the doorway, the gun pointed in front of her.
A huge, sun-kissed man stood half naked at her lavatory, his eyes wide with surprise. He had large, bare feet and solid, well-developed calves. A white towel rode low on his hips, covering him from knee to navel. His abdomen and chest looked chiseled in stone, with ridges like a turtle shell. His muscular arms were massive, his wide, bulky shoulders filling the tiny room.
Shaving cream covered his right cheek, his aqua eyes framed in long eyelashes. He had a dreamy, white smile and long, dark hair that clung to his nape in wet strands.
A movement at his hips drew her gaze. Her face filled with fire.
“It’s just me. You can put down the gun.”
She remembered his deep, soothing voice, remembered him sitting beside her on the bed and holding her hand. A sense of calm washed over her, a feeling of trust.
Was he important to her? A boyfriend or husband, perhaps?
If he didn’t play either role, she had to be a complete fool. The man gave new meaning to the term gorgeous.
She lowered the gun. “I, I’m sorry. I’m a little… confused right now.”
Nodding, he turned off the water and wiped his face clean of shaving cream. “I know, Jocelyn.”
Her gaze shot to his face. “Is that my name?”
“Yes. Your name is Jocelyn Chalmers.”
Hanging the towel on a rack, he closed in on her - or maybe it appeared that way in the small space. Her heart galloped out of control, her gaze two millimeters from the wall of dark hair on his glistening chest. He held a woodsy scent, with a hint of spearmint.
She inhaled deeply. He smiled. The total effect made her knees weak.
She braced herself against the door jam.
“If you give me a minute, I’ll get on some clothes, okay?”
Her head bobbled like a daft slinky toy.
Rubbing her temples, Jocelyn went to the window in her room. Her head ached and her face felt like someone had punched her - repeatedly. The doctor said a car hit her. It felt more like a tank.
Would the throbbing ever stop?
Jocelyn Chalmers. How could she not know her own name? How could she not remember one blasted thing about herself?
She stared at the radio tower in the distance. Nothing felt familiar – only him. His deep, baritone voice brought immediate comfort, the memory of his warm, strong hand on hers relaxing her shoulders.
At least she wasn’t alone. At least she had someone to help her find her memory and get home – wherever that was.
“Are you hungry?”
Jocelyn turned her back on the empty field outside her window. He stood in the bathroom doorway, looking far too appealing for her peace of mind. Faded denims clung to his narrow hips and thighs, a black t-shirt stretched tight across his wide shoulders.
Tingling started in her lower belly and sprouted throughout her body. She wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around his waist and beg him to tell her everything would be all right.
Caution held her back.
“I’m starved, but I’d really like something to drink.”
“What would you like? I’ll get it for you.”
Panic squeezed her chest, her breath hitching up a notch. “You’re leaving?”
With a warm smile, he shook his head as he ushered her to the chair. “No, I’ll have someone deliver it.”
She lowered her brows. Why did she panic that way? Why did the thought of being alone terrify her?
“You name it – a soft drink, iced tea, latte, or something stiffer?” He grinned boyishly.
“What is a latte?”
He blinked. “It’s, um, a coffee made with espresso and milk.”
Did she like lattes? The sound of it didn’t appeal to her.
“I’ll take a cola, I think, and tomato pie. Do they have tomato pie?”
“I hear there’s a pizza place in town that has some amazing food. I’ll have it delivered.”
Nodding, she gave a small smile. “What town is this? Where am I?”
“You’re in a town in south Texas called Creekmore.”
“Texas?” She could picture the state on a map but couldn’t say why it seemed so foreign to her.
“Yeah, that’s what I say...” He gave her a crooked grin.
“You’re not from here?”
“No. I used to live in Colorado. Now…” He gave a half laugh. “I guess I live in Nevada.”
What a strange response. “You guess?”
“Earlier today, I took a job offer that’s based in Nevada.”
Did that mean she would go to Nevada, too? Were they attached that way? Did she dare ask him?
He hadn’t touched her at all. If they were intimate, wouldn’t he touch her? Hold her?
“Why are you here?” she said.
“I’m looking out for you.” He stood hands on hips.
“Why?”
Fear seized her chest again. Why did she dread his answer? Why did she feel on edge?
The pad of his thumb caressed her bruised cheek. A tickling sensation skittered along her nerve endings to her toes.
“Because you asked me to stay.”
“Do I know you?”
His voice dropped an octave as he shook his head. “I’m
d-Artagnan Naylor. I’m with The D.I.R.E. Agency.”
Apprehension clutched her heart in a tight fist. “So, if we don’t know each other, why are you here?”
His smile made her heart flutter. “Because you asked me to stay.”
Sitting back in her chair, she could only stare at him. So, she didn’t know him yet, he stayed with her and showered in her bathroom?
Jumping up from the chair, she reached for the gun on the side table. d’Artagnan’s hand covered hers on top of the cold metal. She heaved for breath.
“Joce, I won’t hurt you.”
How could she trust him when she didn’t know him? How could she trust anyone?
Then again, what did she have to be scared of? What kept this terror locked in her chest?
“If I wanted to hurt you, I could’ve done so while you snored in that bed for hours on end.”
Staring at him, she willed her heart to slow. His explanation made sense. He could’ve killed her at any point in time. The man was three times her size.
“Snore? I do not snore.” Did she?
“Oh yes, you do. Trust me.”
Taking her hand, he brought her back to the chair. “Why don’t I order that pizza and we’ll eat outside. It’s a nice evening.”
#####
“So, how long have you been babysitting me?”
Dar pushed Jocelyn down the hall in a wheelchair, a pizza box and two colas in her lap. The woman was wound tight as a stretched rubber band. He had to figure out a way to calm her.
“Three days.”
He made a left turn in front of a wall of windows. An outdoor rest area came into view. The courtyard contained a small flowerbed filled with azaleas, bou
gainvillea and hibiscus. Jocelyn’s gasp didn’t surprise him after finding that book on botanicals in her bag.
“How beautiful. Can we eat there?”
“We can eat wherever you want.” Backing into the door, Dar halted when a woman called out.
“Excuse me.” A middle-aged nurse in Superman scrubs and sneakers rushed toward them. “You can’t go out there.”
Mentally sighing, Dar continued out the door.
Stopping in front of them, she propped her hands on her hips. “Sir. That is an employee break area. No patients are allowed out there.”
He flashed a dazzling smile. A blush rose up her neck.
“Come on. Look at her.” He nodded down at Jocelyn. “Fresh air will do her good.”
“I’m sorry, but rules are rules…”
Damn, he wasn’t asking for a key to the pharmacy...
He let out a breath of frustration. “My sister is Rachel Monroe…”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh…”
“I know she’d be very upset if I told her you wouldn’t allow me to take Jocelyn out to see the flowers. You and I both know Rachel loves this hospital and now that she’s extremely wealthy, I’d hate for a situation like this to sway her decision on whether or not to make a donation to this place.” He gave her a cheesy grin.
Glancing down at Jocelyn, the nurse cleared her throat. “Why didn’t you say so?” She pressed the bar on the glass door and held it open for them. “You two go on out. Enjoy the nice weather.”
Uh, huh…
Rolling Jocelyn to a picnic area, Dar took the food from her lap and set it on the table.
“You really are a jungle man, aren’t you?” Jocelyn’s voice held a hint of humor.
“Jungle man?”
Going to an orange hibiscus plant, he plucked off a flower and handed it to her. Her grin lit up the courtyard.
“Why do you say that?” He placed a slice of pepperoni pizza on a paper plate.
“Your hair. I remember seeing a jungle man with long hair in a motion picture.”
So, her memories weren’t far off. Maybe this wouldn’t take long at all.
Picking up her slice of pizza, she took a small bite and swallowed it down. “Nevertheless, thank you for pushing the issue. I have a feeling she never stood a chance.”
Chuckling, Dar shook his head. “Nope. We were coming out here one way or the other.”
They ate in companionable silence, the evening breeze wafting through the small space. She appeared relaxed, though anxiety emanated from her like radio waves.
“Do you remember anything about the car accident?” Dar wiped his hands on a napkin.
Her dark brows furrowed. Every time he looked at her battered face, he wanted to punch something. That car hit her hard to inflict such damage.
“No. The first memory I have is of you sitting beside me on the bed, promising you wouldn’t leave.” A sheepish grin stole over her face. “I must sound pitiful to you.”
Pitiful? The woman had traveled forward in time with men who tried to kill her. He didn’t know if he could be as brave.
“Based on what I know, you’re the most courageous woman I’ve ever met.”
Her gaze zeroed in on his face. “Why do you say that?”
“Oh, no.” He shook a finger in the air. “You’re not tricking me into telling you about your past. You have to remember on your own.” He took another bite of pizza.
Her voice went from inquisitive to seductive in warp speed. “Sounds like I may need to use a different tactic.”
Dar’s head popped up. Oh… shit. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Even with her battered face, that look stirred his body like nothing he’d felt in a long time.
“What about you, d’Artagnan?” Her voice held a husky tone. “Do you have a jungle girl?”
He cleared his throat. Twice. Marriage, or a serious relationship, had never been a consideration. His previous line of work had proved too dangerous for a wife and family.
Then again, he’d never expected to live past the age of thirty-five.
“I don’t have a girl.” He smoothed a hand down the back of his head. “Is my hair really that bad?”
Her chocolate eyes twinkled. Leaning forward, she smoothed it behind his ear. She smelled of baby powder and lavender, her soft fingers sending chills along his arms.
“Actually, I like it. I’m just not used to seeing men with long hair.”
He stared at her full, rosy lips, still tempting despite the healing cut that ran length-wise from under her nose to inside her mouth. A crushing desire to haul her across the table and kiss her, surged through him. Yet, some previously non-existent sense of honor kept him rooted to his seat.
Damn, the good guy shit was already sinking into his head.
“So, you remember seeing men? Maybe you’ve got a selective memory.”
Jocelyn’s smile disappeared as she studied him. “I don’t remember any men in particular. Just you, d-Artagnan.”
If Dar didn’t know better, he’d think she just made another pass at him. After the smokin’ perusal she gave him in the bathroom earlier, he considered himself a saint at this point.
The woman had no qualms about checking him out, that’s for damned sure.
“Jocelyn, it’s best we keep things professional.” Did he really just say that?
She pursed her lips. “Professional. Hmm, is that what this is?” Her gaze went to the orange flower in her hand.
Dar cocked a brow. Damn, she didn’t hold back, did she? Flat out, on the table, she wanted to know what the flower meant.
What did it mean, Naylor?
Hell if he knew. All he’d wanted to do was make her smile.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to cause you to keep me at arm’s length. Maybe I don’t want to know.” Her troubled gaze rose to his face. “Regardless, if we’re going to be spending time together, why can’t we make the best of it? I think we could be great… friends if you just allowed it.”
Friends. Dar felt like she’d pinged him between the eyes. Maybe they could be friends if she didn’t smile at him, or ogle him with those dark eyes of hers.
And, she couldn’t smell so good, either. She’d have to stop bathing.
“You don’t know me, Joce.” He got up from the table to throw away his trash. “If you knew the real me, you wouldn’t want to be my friend.”
#####
“Take me for a walk.”
Jocelyn gave Dar her most enticing smile, hoping to elicit some kind of interest from him. Having him at her beck and call the last few days had been a complete distraction. She’d found herself playing damsel in distress just to have him near so she could inhale his woodsy scent.
Truth be told, she could probably run for miles yet, she always asked him to help her from the bed. Just having his hand on her arm made gooseflesh pop up on her skin and her mouth turn up at the corners. Watching his biceps and shoulders flex and bunch was more entertaining than television. And, his backside in denims… well, that called for popcorn and a cola. She could watch that all day.
“Where do you want to go?” He held out his hand to help her from the bed. “The visual marvel of the lobby or the breathtaking excitement of the gift shop?”
Did she really need her memories back when she could just make new ones with this man and that smile?
She placed her hand in his large palm. His tanned skin was cool to the touch and so much darker than her own milky complexion.
“The gift shop. I want more of those foil-wrapped chocolates.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He led her from the room, her hand in the crux of his arm. “I’m starting to get a complex, playing second fiddle to chocolate.”
This would be the third visit to the gift shop in four days. She enjoyed looking at all of the sentimental gifts and the variety of candy. However, in all honesty, walking with Dar was the only time she had an excuse to touch him.
When he’d told her they had to keep things professional, it had made her more determined to take things in the other direction. She didn’t know if she had a history of moving full steam ahead, but with Dar, she couldn’t help herself. If an opportunity to flirt with him presented itself, she took it.
“I could be persuaded to move you up to first fiddle, with the right incentive.”
They stepped into the elevator. Dar hit the first floor button. Staring down at her, his aqua eyes swirled with interest.
“Is that right?”
Biting her bottom lip, she stared at his mouth. “Mmm, yes...”
He gave an uncomfortable laugh. “You don’t know subtle, do you?”
“Mmm, no…” She smiled at him.
His sudden grin disappeared. “You’re making my job really
difficult, you know.”
She pulled away, his statement striking her by surprise. The last thing she wanted to do was make his job difficult.
What if he left because she’d become too obnoxious? She had to tone it down and act like a lady.
Losing her smile, Jocelyn dipped her head. “I’m sorry, Dar. I never meant to do that.”
He tugged her to him. “Hey.” Lifting her chin with his hand, he said, “It’s only difficult because you’re becoming harder to resist.” His gaze went to her mouth.
Her heart pounded in wild abandon. “So, why resist?”
He groaned low. “Joce… I’m trying to do the right thing.”
She placed a palm against his chest. His muscles felt hard, yet warm, their ridges tempting her hands to roam. She curled her fingers into his shirt.
“Sometimes the right thing really isn’t the right thing at all.” Trailing her palm down his torso, she dropped her arm to her side.
Releasing her chin, he gave a half laugh. “Damn, you’re out to kill me, aren’t you?”
The elevator door opened. The bustle of mid-morning activity intruded on their privacy.
“Aren’t you supposed to be locked up somewhere?”
Jocelyn whipped around. A big, hulking blond man stood just outside the elevator. He glared at Dar with narrowed eyes, his nostrils wide.
Taking her by the hand, Dar led her out of the elevator, keeping her behind him. She peeked around his side.
