She was pulling off the gloves and dropping them into a receptacle. “Yes, it’s quiet as a mouse around here.”
“Can we talk in private? Go to your office?” He knew as head of the E.R., Jordana would have an office that afforded privacy. “Sure, follow me.”
They left the cubicle and went down a hall.
In her office, Dakota closed the door behind him. Jordana’s desk was clean and efficient, like her. He sat down once she took a seat. “You said you could help my PTSD symptoms?”
Nodding, Jordana said, “Yes. We’ve got more research available, Dakota.”
She opened a drawer and handed him a small box. “This is a saliva test. If you’ll follow directions and send it in to the company, they’ll send me the test results. Basically, it’s checking your cortisol levels four times in one day. It gives me a baseline to see what’s going on with that hormone in your body.”
He frowned at the box. “I’m sure my cortisol is through the roof.”
“More than likely,” she said, her voice soft with compassion. “By any chance, are you doing this because Shelby pushed you?”
Dakota met her gaze and saw merriment in her eyes. “Is it that obvious?”
The doctor chuckled. “I’ve been trying to get you to come in and take this test ever since I met you a year ago.”
“Guilty as charged, Doc.” He held the box in his hand, resting it on his thigh. “Shelby doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“I think you’ve met your match. I don’t know which of you is more bullheaded.”
“She is.”
Nodding, Jordana gestured to the box. “Look, there is an adaptogen created by a pharmaceutical company that can lower cortisol levels back to normal. That’s good news for people with PTSD. It’s a one-month cycle of taking the adaptogen and then you stop. We retest you after three months to find out where your cortisol level is.”
“So,” Dakota said, looking at the nondescript cardboard box in his large hand, “you can make my PTSD symptoms go away?”
“Some of the symptoms, in most cases. That, or dialing them down tremendously so you don’t suffer from them 24/7.” Tilting her head, Jordana held his gaze. “Would you like to sleep at night, Dakota? Get rid of insomnia? Anxiety? Not jump at your shadow?”
“Sure I would.”
“We can do that with this adaptogen treatment. Once you follow the protocol, which is twenty-four hours in length, send in the kit and I get the information back from the company, I’ll have one of my nurses call you for an appointment. Then you’ll come in and we’ll get you on that adaptogen and change your life for the better. How does that sound?”
“Like a miracle,” Dakota admitted. “I’ve had PTSD for a long, long time, Doc. And I won’t get drugged up to my eyeballs to dull the symptoms. I may only have half a life, but it’s all I got. I’m not going to let a drug take what’s left.”
“I understand,” she murmured, giving him a sad look. “Shelby did the right thing in goading you to get tested.”
Dakota felt his heart open just thinking about her. “When I first met her, I thought she was a Barbie doll.”
Laughing lightly, Jordana stood and pulled her white lab coat on. “Shelby is deceiving in that way. She’s beautiful and I’ve seen more than one guy project that image on her. Just because she has blond hair doesn’t mean she’s one-dimensional.”
“Far from it,” he agreed, standing.
“You two must get along.” She walked around her desk, placing two pens in the breast pocket of the lab coat and picking up her stethoscope.
Of all the people he’d met in the year since he’d come home, Jordana was someone Dakota always trusted. There was compassion in her eyes, in her touch and proof of her care of others. Much like Shelby, he realized. “Yes, she’s one of a kind,” he admitted.
“I think she’s good for you. Matter of fact, I think you’re good for Shelby, too.” Jordana halted at the door and looked up at the craggy vet.
“She’s special, Doc.”
Smiling, Jordana reached out and squeezed his upper arm. “Take care of her, okay? Cade Garner called me earlier today to let me know what was going on in trying to find those two convicts. I worry for Shelby. I know she can take care of herself, but she’s potentially got two murderers hunting for her, wanting revenge.”
“I’ve got her back, Doc. Don’t worry.”
Jordana opened the door. “Good. If nothing else, Dakota, you’re the biggest, baddest guard dog she can have.”
“SEAL power.”
Jordana knew of his military background. She let her hand drop from his arm. “Exactly. Use it to the hilt, Dakota, because until these dudes are captured, Shelby is in danger.” She frowned. “And so is every other woman around here....”
“I know, Doc. I’m sure Cade will keep you updated.”
“Yes, he’s been good about that. We’ve already warned our women employees to be careful and be much more alert. We have male security guards escorting our nurses to their cars at night now. We can’t be too careful.”
* * *
DAKOTA HEARD A VEHICLE coming up the road. So did Storm. The wolf went to the door, ears up, alert. The sun was beginning to set in the west. He glanced at his watch and saw it was 7:00 p.m. Shelby got off duty about this time, and it had to be her. Opening the door, he walked out into the shadowed woods that surrounded the area.
Shelby drove up in her green Toyota Land Cruiser. She parked and climbed out, no longer in uniform. Storm raced up to her, wagging her tail.
Laughing, Shelby turned and met Dakota’s hooded eyes. “How did your day go?” She fondly petted the wolf’s broad head.
“Okay,” he said. “I found a videotape of Welton going in and leaving the supermarket. So that’s good news. Cade has sent a deputy over to work with the manager and get the grocery clerks up to speed. If he was there once, he’ll be back.”
“Yes, Cade told me about it before I left after my shift was over.” She smiled. “It’s a step in the right direction.”
Dakota nodded. “What’s in there?”
“I brought us dinner.” She reached in and brought out two sacks. “Chinese,” she said, handing him one of the two sacks.
“Smells good,” he told her.
“Better than eating a can of cold beans,” she said, wrinkling her nose and drowning in his slow, heated smile. Just touching his fingers, remembering them grazing her flesh, giving her such pleasure, made her go weak for a moment.
“Let’s get inside,” he said, looking around. It was as normal as breathing for Dakota to scan the area, listen to the sounds or see if anything looked out of place. Satisfied it was safe for the moment, he followed Shelby into the cabin.
As she set her sack on the counter, Shelby asked, “How is your arm? Did you talk to Jordana?”
Dakota shut the door and locked it. “Yes to all the above. My arm is healing up fine.”
The cabin was grayish-looking inside. Dakota didn’t want a lantern turned on because it would make the cabin a target to anyone trying to locate her. He took no chances.
“Good. And you’re going to take the cortisol test?” She pulled out several cartons and set them in a line on the counter. Just looking at him, Shelby felt her body hotly respond to that predatory gaze of his. There was no question, Dakota was a hunter.
He set his sack on the counter. “Come here,” he rasped, pulling her into his arms. “I’ve missed the hell out of you today.” He leaned down, curving his mouth over her lips.
Moaning as his mouth slid and rocked her lips open, she felt his hands splay against her soft pink angora shell. She moved her hips against his, wanting him in every way. She drowned in the hunger that exploded between them.
Her arms slid around his shoulders. She tasted sweet, a hint of chocolate. Smiling to himself, his hand raking through her loose blond hair, capturing her, he tilted her head just enough to kiss her thoroughly. Her breath was rapid, moist against his unshaven che
ek. Her moan was caught in his mouth and he absorbed the sound, her breasts pressing against the wall of his chest. He wanted to take her here. Now. It would be so easy to pull her to the bed, undress her and love her. God, how he wanted to do just that. In the back of his melting mind, he knew it wasn’t wise. Danger lay somewhere out there. Someone was hunting Shelby and wanted to not only hurt her, but kill her.
Reluctantly, he tore his mouth from hers. Opening his eyes, Dakota saw her blue eyes filled with desire. He’d seen that look in her eyes before. Last night. He held her, his thumb moving across her wet lower lip. “Damn, you make me feel like a starved wolf, Shel.” He leaned down, grazed her lips, felt her smile beneath his mouth. Her slender fingers moved up the hard line of his jaw and framed his face. But he forced himself to pull away from her mouth.
“I’m starved for you all the time,” she whispered, giving him a wicked look.
“As much as I want to drag you to the bed and make love with you all night long, we can’t.”
Nodding, Shelby lost her smile. “I know....”
Dakota reluctantly released her, cursing the circumstances. The ache in his lower body was painful. Damn, how he wanted to bury himself in her, love her, fly with her. It was a shattered dream. At least, for right now.
“I keep thinking we could go to a hotel room somewhere in town,” she said huskily, touching the side of his temple, seeing a small white scar across the area. It hurt her to think how he’d gotten it. In battle, for sure. She looked up and fearlessly met his slitted eyes, felt his heat even standing inches away from his powerful, tense body. “Want to?”
“You’re a damned tease.”
“I know. You’ve turned me into one. Can I help it if you’re the best lover I’ve ever had?”
“You’re the wild woman, not me. Do you know that?”
She grinned. “Only with you, Dakota. It’s you. You make me lose every inhibition I ever had.”
Lifting his hand, he slid his fingers across the crown of her golden hair, taming some of the strands back into place. “As much as I want to go to that hotel, we can’t. We could be seen, Shel. You know that.”
“It’s hell being trained in law enforcement,” she griped good-naturedly. She stepped back, putting enough distance between them so she wouldn’t be tempted to continue touching him, learning his body, feeling him react and pleasuring him. “I’ll be a good girl for now. Come on, let’s eat while the food is still hot.”
“The only food I want is you. And you’ll never get cold.”
“Damn, Dakota, you’re making this tough.” Shelby saw a slight grin leak into the line of his sensual mouth. A mouth she wanted to kiss, explore and have tease and tantalize her forever.
“We’re good together, Shel.”
“Too good.” Taking a deep breath, she picked up a container and pressed it against his chest. “Food. Let’s eat.”
“Can I have you for dessert then?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SHE WAS LATE. After a quick glance at her watch, Shelby left the sheriff’s office. The sun was behind the hills in the west. All day, law enforcement and the FBI agents had been arriving and gearing up to find Welton and Hartley. She’d been in meetings off and on, her head aching from giving info to the men who would begin combing the Tetons. Rubbing her brow, she headed toward where she’d parked, in an auxiliary parking lot behind the courthouse. What a long day.
Shelby hurried down the sidewalk, the area that now looked like a used-car lot because of the extra activities. She had called Dakota and he’d suggested they meet at Mo’s Ice Cream Parlor at the main plaza for dinner. As she walked past the three-story gray-brick courthouse, she smiled softly. Ordinarily, she knew he would never eat in a restaurant; the noise was too much for him. Yet Dakota was putting himself outside his comfort zone for her. There were few options for a good hot meal at his cabin, so he’d opted for Mo’s.
Turning into the asphalt parking lot, Shelby hesitated. Where had she put her Land Cruiser? The place was packed. The lights in the lot had not come on yet, making it harder to spot it. Her mind was still on the presentations she’d been giving to different groups. And she wasn’t in her normal parking spot, which contributed to her confusion.
She remembered she’d parked the Toyota near the gray-brick wall in the sixth row of seven. She quickly threaded between the aisles. Fruit trees had been planted near the wall, taking away the urban look. Approaching her vehicle, she pulled out the key. Shelby slowed, as she always did, and focused on the interior of her Land Cruiser. It wasn’t impossible that one of the convicts could be hiding in there and waiting to jump her. She inspected the inside closely, finding nothing out of place.
Satisfied, Shelby opened the car door to climb in.
A hand suddenly clamped her mouth, yanking her backward off her feet.
Shelby hit the asphalt hard. Nostrils flaring, she tried to scream, the hand pressing hard against her mouth and nose. Pain shot through her head as she violently struck the pavement. Eyes wide, she saw it was Oren Hartley. His blue eyes were slits as he maneuvered around her, his fist cocked.
Shock rolled through her. He held her down on her back, his knee pushed into her chest. A scream drowned beneath his hand as he cocked his arm, fist coming straight for her head.
Her face exploded with pain. A cracking sound went off through her head as his fist connected solidly with her cheek and nose. She was stunned, partly conscious from the strike. Adrenaline surged through her. Somewhere in her graying senses, Shelby realized no one would see the act. The Land Cruiser was parked next to the other tall SUVs. She was in trouble.
Gasping, she saw Hartley grin. His teeth were yellow. Grabbing her by the collar of her uniform, he got off her. She sobbed for breath, warm blood spreading across her lips and chin. Shelby wasn’t even aware her nose had been broken, but she had a feeling it might be. As soon as Hartley removed his knee, she instinctively kicked out. Her boot connected with his groin.
Grunting, Hartley released her, his hands flying to his crotch. He leaned over, his mouth open in a silent scream of agony, eyes wide with surprise.
Shelby scrambled to her knees and got one last look at the murderous expression in the convict’s eyes. He limped backward one pace, gasping, unable to straighten.
It gave her the split second she needed. As she scrambled to her knees, her ears ringing with sounds, pain reared up through her face. Shelby snapped off the restraining strap holding her pistol. In one motion, she whipped the pistol up and aimed it at the staggering convict.
“Freeze!” she yelled, both hands around the butt of her pistol.
“You bitch!” Hartley snarled, trying to make a lunge for her.
Shelby fired.
Hartley crumpled with a scream, grabbing for his left calf.
As she shoved herself to her feet, dizziness struck her. Shelby kept the pistol trained on the convict now writhing on the ground with a leg wound. Pressing the button on her shoulder radio, she called for backup, giving her location. She’d shot Hartley in the calf and she’d done it on purpose. The bastard wasn’t walking away this time. Worse, she knew he probably wasn’t alone.
Shelby warily looked around, gasping for breath, her pulse pounding with fear. Was Welton close by? She saw no one else. And help was on the way. Never once did she remove her focus on Hartley, who was moaning and cursing, his hands wrapped around his bleeding calf. He wasn’t going anywhere.
As soon as help arrived, Shelby sat down in the opened Land Cruiser door and pulled out her cell phone. As she called Dakota with trembling fingers, she watched as Hartley’s hands were cuffed behind him. An ambulance arrived, its lights flashing.
“Hello?”
Gulping, wiping the blood from her nose, Shelby rasped, “I’m in the courthouse parking lot. Hartley tried to take me down. Everything’s all right. He’s in custody. Can you get over here?”
“Stay there, Shel. I’m on my way....”
Nodding, she felt the
shaking begin in earnest. One of the sheriff’s deputies, Tom Langley, walked over to her.
“You need to be patched up, Shelby. Are you able to get to the ambulance or do you want some help?”
She managed a grimace toward the forty-year-old deputy. “I—I’m okay, Tom. Dakota’s on his way. Just get that bastard over to the hospital.”
Langley nodded grimly. He reached out, his hand on her shoulder. “You’re looking pretty roughed up, Shelby. You want me to stay until he gets here?” He looked around. “I’m worried that Welton could be hiding nearby.”
“You’re right,” she muttered, wiping her nose, looking at her hand that was now red with her blood. “Yeah, stay. I can use your help.”
Dakota found Shelby sitting in the driver’s side of her Land Cruiser, the door open, the deputy standing vigilant guard. Night had fallen, and he was alarmed at how bad she looked under the sulfur lights. He nodded to Tom, thanked him and eased his bulk between the opened door and Shelby. His eyes slitted as he saw her nose was puffy, bleeding and her cheek swollen. It broke his heart in two.
Dakota reached out. “Let’s get you to the E.R. You’ve got a broken nose.”
Shelby looked into his deeply shadowed face. There was rage banked in his eyes. “Hartley jumped me. He must have been hiding on the other side of my SUV.”
Sliding his hand around her arm, he gently pulled her out of the vehicle. “Don’t talk, Shel. You’re looking pale. Can you stand?”
Nodding, she stood and had never felt safer as when Dakota’s arm went around her shoulders. She leaned against him, feeling her knees grow mushy as the adrenaline began to leave her. She was glad he was strong and tall. He locked the SUV up with the key.
“I screwed up,” she muttered as he led her to his pickup truck. “I should have gone around the Land Cruiser, looked—”
“Stop talking, Shel. Conserve your energy.” He opened the door of the pickup and helped her inside. He worried as her eyes went cloudy. She was in shock. After buckling her in, Dakota closed the door. As he searched the parking lot, now crawling with deputies, a white-hot rage tunneled through him. Where was Welton? Had the bastard slipped away when their attack failed?
The Loner Page 17
