“It’s just a bruise,” he murmured.
She didn’t even realize tears were running down her cheeks as she traced her fingers over the nasty mark. She jerked her gaze to his. He was watching her through narrowed eyes.
She wasn’t sure who moved first but the next thing she knew, they were kissing again. His lips were both soft and firm and wickedly talented. How had she lived almost thirty years on earth without experiencing the perfection of his kiss?
He suddenly pulled away and she whimpered. Ethan came inside the room and she realized Kellan must have heard him approach. She hadn’t heard anything over the choir singing hallelujah in her head.
“I brought my field kit,” Ethan announced. “Let’s see what I have to work with.”
“Annabelle first,” Kellan insisted.
She started to protest. It was just a little swelling, possibly some discoloration. But one look at Kellan and she knew she’d lose the argument. She stood still while Ethan gently probed the area around her eye. “No broken bones,” he announced. “I grabbed this from the freezer.” He placed an ice pack wrapped in a cloth against her cheek and she held it in place, wincing as the cold penetrated to her skin.
She stepped back as Ethan assessed Kellan’s wounds. Her fingers strayed unconsciously to her lips. When her gaze met Kellan’s, it was to find unfiltered lust glittering in the whiskey brown depths as Ethan tended to his injuries.
“Back’s worse than the front,” Ethan announced. “Go lie down so I can patch you up.”
“What can I do?” Nervous energy was flowing through her veins. She needed to be doing something.
“How are you around blood?”
“Fine.” She’d earned her nursing creds tending to Rob during the last year of his life. It hadn’t been easy watching him slowly wither away, his once robust body betraying him. She knew it’d been hard for him to have her see him so weak, but she treasured those moments with him. And she hoped she’d made his last few days on earth as happy as possible.
“Can you boil some water so I can sterilize the equipment?”
“Sure.” She jogged down to the kitchen and rummaged one-handed in the cabinets until she found a pan. After filling it with water, she placed it on the electric burner that said, “Fast boil.” She glanced at the other range. The kitchen was equipped with both electric and gas.
The label lived up to its name as the water quickly bubbled. Using an oven mitt she found next to the stove, she picked up the pot and gingerly carried it up the stairs. Kellan was lying on a towel on his stomach. Ethan had swabbed off all the dried blood. She placed the pot down and they dipped the instruments in the scalding liquid.
He was in the process of preparing a syringe when he asked Kellan, “Do you want drugs?”
“No. Just do it.”
“Okay, Nike, brace yourself. This is an antibiotic.” Ethan inserted the needle and depressed the plunger. Next, he tugged out the ripped sutures that Amelia had so neatly tied. Then he re-stitched the wound. The only sound Kellan made was a hiss when Ethan pulled a wide section together. Once finished, he swabbed it with antiseptic cream and applied an adhesive gauze pad. “Flip.”
Kellan gingerly rotated so that his stomach wound was visible and winced when his weight came down on his back. Ethan made quick work of the hole and although he said they wouldn’t be as neat as Amelia’s stitches, Annabelle thought they looked pretty darn professional.
“Are you an EMT?”
“Nah. I had field training in the military.”
“Make yourself useful and get me something to drink,” Kellan grumped to Ethan.
Ethan winked at her and said, “I will in a minute. I was just about to show the beautiful lady my impressive guns.” He lifted his arm and flexed and good Lord, they were impressive. He looked like he could bench press a semi.
“Now,” Kellan emphasized.
Ethan tsked as he gathered his supplies, looking up at her dolefully. “This is the thanks I get for tending to his wounds.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the charming man with adorable dimples. Still, as handsome as Ethan was, he was nothing compared to Kellan in her opinion. Something about him called to her. Sure, he was drop-dead gorgeous, but he was brave and strong and kind. He’d come to her aid without knowing anything about her. And when she needed him, he’d been there—every single time. He’d even dragged himself out of bed to rescue her.
Kellan’s lids were drooping. “You bastard,” he muttered.
Ethan smiled at her. “That endearment was because I slipped a sedative into the shot. He needs the rest.”
Kellan grabbed Ethan’s arm. “Don’t let her leave me again,” were the last words he uttered before his hand fell away and he tumbled into a drug-induced slumber.
Annabelle felt horrible. She’d lost his trust, and she couldn’t blame him. She had run from him the last time he’d been unconscious. Now he wouldn’t rest well if he was chasing after her in his dreams.
Ethan dug in Logan’s bag of first aid supplies for a bag of saline.
“He needs another IV?”
Ethan nodded. “He ripped the last one out and he still needs to replenish his fluids. I figured he’d balk, so knocking him out seemed like the best way.”
Once he was finished, they headed downstairs and reheated some of the food Mrs. Hernandez prepared. While they ate, she found out that Ethan had an older brother, Noah, whom he obviously idolized. They’d both been SEALs. He adored his younger sister Maggie, who was also an agent, and the best friend Amelia had told her about. Ethan spoke about Maggie’s agent husband, Carter, like a real brother.
“How impressive that Maggie went from the office manager to an agent.”
Ethan smiled fondly. “Yeah, Magnolia Blossom has more grit than most of the sailors I served with before the Teams.”
“Magnolia Blossom?”
He looked surprised that he’d revealed the moniker. “Our parents are…unconventional, to say the least. Think sixties hippies, flower children, peace, love and all that. It’s the best way to describe them.”
“So why was Maggie labeled with an avant-garde name and you and Noah escaped the playground torture?” A blush crept up his neck to his face. “Oh my gosh, you didn’t! Ethan isn’t your real name, is it?”
He glanced at his watch. “Wow, would you look at the time? I should go—”
She grabbed his arm. “Spill it, Addison. What’s your real name? Ethan…ol? Ethan…ksgiving? I could go on.”
“Please, don’t,” he groused. “Fine, I’ll tell you. My legal name is Ethan Reynolds Addison.”
“But your birth certificate says…” she prompted.
He sighed. “Earth Replenish Addison.”
She burst out laughing, his scowl making her chortle harder. Soon, he was joining along with her. In between gasping breaths, she said, “Okay, I have to know, what’s Noah’s real name?”
“That would be Nature Rain.”
She fell back against the couch, holding her stomach. She hadn’t laughed that hard in forever. “Your parents sound interesting.”
“Oh, they’re a hoot.”
“Knowing how mean kids can be, I bet you had your fair share of teasing.”
“Actually, they weren’t so bad when the other kids were named Yellow Sunbeam, Colorful Rainbow, Magical Unicorn and my personal favorite: Mighty Oak.”
“You have to stop,” she gasped. “My stomach muscles are killing me.”
He flashed a white smile. “Hey, you asked.”
She wiped her eyes. “Magical Unicorn? Really? She must’ve loved being saddled with that—get it saddled?”
He chuckled. “Good one. And she was actually a he.”
Her mouth dropped open. “No. Please tell me those parents did not do that to a boy.”
“Afraid so. And maybe there’s something to be said about nature versus nurture because the last I heard, he was headlining a Vegas drag queen show.”
It took seve
ral minutes before the laughter died down and she could breathe again. “What did your peace-loving parents think of you and your brother joining the military?”
“They weren’t happy that we’d be,” he made air quotes, “working for the man, as they called the government, but they encouraged us in everything we did and stood behind our decisions. They’re kooky and eccentric, but they love us fiercely.”
They chatted easily for another hour and then he said, “I need to check in with the office, give them the information on Bixby—now Thompkins’ hideout.”
“Didn’t you promise Thompkins that you’d forget where they were located?”
“Yeah, but they’ll be cleared out by now. He trusted us about as much as we trusted him, which was not at all. My guess is that he took all the valuables and left the dead bodies where they lie.”
In other words, Bixby. It’d be poetic justice if the pit bulls he raised to kill each other feasted on his rotting carcass. The thought didn’t bother her as much as it should. A little disturbing, but there it was.
She stood. “I’m going to go check on Kellan and then head to bed.”
“I’ll sack out on the couch. Let me know if he needs anything.”
“There are plenty of rooms upstairs.”
“Yeah, but look at the size of the television.”
She rolled her eyes at him. Men. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Annabelle.”
After snagging a couple of bottles of water from the mammoth refrigerator, she headed up the steps. Kellan was asleep in the exact same spot. After a quick shower in the room across the hall, she dressed in a sleep set that consisted of a tank top and matching shorts. She couldn’t believe she was wearing Juliet LaRue’s clothes! But she was told she could help herself to anything in the trendy boutique Jade called a closet.
Annabelle brushed her teeth and her hair and then went to check on Kellan one last time before she turned in for the night. He was still out. He looked so peaceful in sleep, his light brown lashes fanned against his cheek. She lowered herself to sit beside him on the bed and brushed a tendril of hair from his forehead.
“Annabelle?”
She jerked her gaze to him but his eyes were still closed. “Yes.”
“Sleep with me,” he murmured, before tugging her down beside him. Then he rolled to his good side and flung the arm with the IV over her hip. The feel of his big, strong body behind her was incredible. She snuggled into his embrace, feeling protected and cherished. Her last conscious thought was how she wanted to spend the rest of her nights just like this, wrapped in his arms.
#
Kellan was having the most incredible dream. In his hand was a supple, warm breast and as he leisurely played with the nipple, his name was uttered in a breathy moan. A sweet, heart-shaped ass nestled firmly against his very eager crotch. He loved the sounds the woman was making and wanted to know what she’d sound like when he was buried deep inside her. He reluctantly released the breast and let his fingers travel down her taut stomach, headed for the promised land when he felt a sharp tug.
His eyes snapped open to realize that, one, it hadn’t been a dream. Annabelle was snuggled firmly against him and his hand was definitely under her shirt touching warm, soft skin. And two, the tug came from the needle Ethan had inserted into his arm after he’d knocked him unconscious. The jackass.
As carefully as possible he started to extract his hand so she wouldn’t wake up and accuse him of being a sleep-rapist. His plan met an abrupt halt when her hand clamped his, anchoring it in place against her smooth stomach.
“Yes, Kellan,” she moaned. “Touch me.”
The blood he’d worked so hard to replenish inside his body flooded south until he was achingly, painfully hard. Sweat popped up along his brow. His damn fingers itched to do exactly as she asked. In an attempt to move the part of his body that was desperate to be inside her, he inadvertently knocked over the pole holding the IV. Blood sprayed as the needle ripped from his arm as it crashed to the floor.
He jerked his hand away as Annabelle popped upright, her hair a riot of tangles. “Kellan? Are you okay?”
He cleared his throat and shifted the covers so she wouldn’t see the proof of his desire for her. “Yeah. Knocked over the IV.”
“You’re bleeding again.”
“Just where the needle—”
The door burst open. “I heard a crash is—oh, uh, sorry,” Ethan stammered, but there was a wicked gleam in his eye. Kellan would never hear the end of this.
Annabelle gasped and jumped from the bed. He closed his eyes and plopped back against the pillow. “I’m fine, dammit. I knocked over the pole.”
Ethan sauntered over wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and a knowing smile. Damn exhibitionist. He rummaged in his first aid kit and then cleaned the blood on Kellan’s arm from the ripped needle.
“I’m, uh…bed…going. Bye.”
“Annabelle,” Kellan called but she’d already disappeared out the door. He turned his glare on Ethan. “I don’t care what you saw, nothing happened.”
Ethan’s eyes were wide with feigned innocence. “Didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to. I can tell what you’re thinking.”
“If it’s that she’s sweet, caring and easy on the eyes and that you’re one lucky SOB, then you do know what I was thinking.”
He grabbed Ethan’s wrist in a hard grip. “Nothing. Happened.”
Serious now, he nodded. “Okay. I believe you.”
After he finished cleaning the wound, he bid Kellan goodnight again and disappeared. Kellan propped his arm under his head and closed his eyes. How had she ended up in his bed? Could she really want him as much as he wanted her? Nothing could come of an attraction. His job was to protect her, keep her safe.
But who would protect her from him?
Chapter Thirteen
Annabelle’s face was on fire. She touched her hands to her cheeks and the heat was unmistakable. She shouldn’t be embarrassed about being caught in Kellan’s bed. They were both consenting, unattached adults. She closed the door and fell back against it. Oh hell, she didn’t know if he was attached or not. They hadn’t had that conversation yet. He might have a girlfriend back home waiting for him to return home safely. Of course, he did. He was devastatingly handsome.
Yes, they’d kissed. But the first two had been friendly pecks, really. For good luck, if you will. The kiss at Bixby’s hellhole she’d initiated at the immense relief that he was alive. The last one, well, that had been an inferno of heat and want and lust. When he’d tugged her down beside him in a drug-induced state, she could’ve protested. Or she could’ve waited until he was out and slid from his bed. But no, she snuggled closer and promptly fell asleep. Then the dreams started. They were erotic and vivid. He was touching her, and it felt incredible. She wanted his hands all over. Who knew it was real and not a dream?
Both men probably thought she was a nympho now. “Oh, that shameless Annabelle, she’ll climb in bed with an unconscious guy.” She trudged forward, flopped down to the mattress face first and bounced. Humiliation didn’t describe how she felt. Yes, she was attracted to Kellan. What woman wouldn’t be fascinated with a man who had the total package: bravery, strength, handsomeness. He was the real deal. He was also technically her employee since she hired him to protect her. All she needed was an accusation of sexual harassment and ending up in the slammer for crushing on her bodyguard.
Maybe she was just suffering from a case of Stockholm Syndrome. Yes, that’s all this was, the feelings of trust and affection. She was falling for her—wait a minute. Stockholm Syndrome was when a hostage fell for their captor. She wasn’t a hostage and Kellan definitely not a captor. There went that theory.
With a tortured sigh, she flipped over to her back. She’d never get to sleep now. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Three in the morning. “Gah.”
She picked up the remote and clicked on the television
mounted on the wall across from the bed. Though there were dozens of channels, she could find nothing appealing to watch at this hour. She settled on a rerun of Legally Blonde. Even though it’d already started, she’d have no trouble picking up with the plot. She’d seen the movie a dozen times.
Despite her earlier thoughts, she fell into a deep sleep.
#
Kellan felt surprisingly well-rested when he woke the next morning. Amelia hadn’t wanted him out of bed yet, but yesterday’s activity seemed to have helped. Though he was no doctor, he pronounced himself on the road to recovery. He had to grudgingly give credit to Ethan, too. After everything that happened, starting with Annabelle’s disappearance and ending with Bixby’s death, Kellan had been so keyed up, he would’ve had a hard time settling down to sleep. Ethan recognized the situation and took measures by adding the sedative to the antibiotic. Just because he was right didn’t mean Kellan would let him get away without retribution of some sort.
After using the bathroom, he showered using the hand-held nozzle to keep the stitches dry. He was starting to look scruffy, so he shaved next. Amelia would probably want him to stay in bed today, but she wasn’t here and he was starving. He made his way downstairs.
Ethan was drinking a cup of coffee and working on his computer. He looked up with a scowl. “You’re supposed to be recuperating in bed.”
“I rested. I recouped. Now I eat.” He opened the fridge for some juice and noticed the shelves laden with serving dishes. He hadn’t had anything to eat all day yesterday. Ethan had brought him a tray of bacon and eggs in the morning, but that’s when they realized Annabelle was missing. After they returned, Ethan drugged him and he was out. No wonder his stomach felt like a hollow pit.
Orangish-yellow lumps visible beneath a glass lid caught his attention and his mouth watered. “Mrs. Hernandez was here?” He yanked out the container of homemade macaroni and cheese with glee. “Breakfast.” He found a microwaveable bowl and scooped out a healthy portion. Someone had already sampled the delicious manna from Heaven.
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