Damn it.
“I agreed to hang out with Daddy here in Washington while you two go on your little diplomatic world tour,” Josslyn fumed. “I didn’t agree to have my every step shadowed by a protective detail. The Secret Service’s first priority is to protect elected officials, not me. Besides, the law allows me to refuse protection. I’m pretty sure your voters will thank you for saving them some money.”
Adam swallowed back a bark of agreement. Josslyn wasn’t the only one duped this morning. Somehow the drool detail had turned into the diva detail, and Adam wasn’t happy about it. Not one little bit. He’d had his close encounter with the First Lady’s wild-child half-sister two years ago. And he’d nearly been blown up in the process of saving her perfect ass from some Asian whale fishermen she and her radical friends had been protesting against.
But that was nothing compared to the torture his libido was forced to endure while the two had waited for their rendezvous with the retrieval team. Adam had quickly discovered she had the heart and soul of a warrior princess. Worse, he’d been foolish enough to kiss her. Her sassy mouth not only drove him wild with desire, but she made him want things. Things he’d never envisioned having for himself. The woman was dangerous to the part of Adam he kept locked away. Once they were rescued, he quickly made himself scarce, vowing to steer clear of Josslyn Benoit at all costs. As far as he was concerned, her wish for no Secret Service protection was his command.
Too bad his commander in chief didn’t see things that way.
Josslyn stopped her pacing long enough for the president to lean down and kiss her on the cheek. “This is one issue I don’t give a damn what the voters think,” he said. “Your safety is my only concern here. This isn’t something as simple as a photo of you in a wet T-shirt being splattered across the tabloids two weeks before the election.”
Adam’s palms began to sweat recalling that lusty image.
“You stepped in too many hornets’ nests in Africa this week,” the president continued. “Whatever you were up to put you on the radar of several extremist groups. I don’t need to point out this isn’t the first time you’ve needed to be rescued.”
Adam swallowed the cough that threatened to escape. Best not to let on he knew the details of her previous adventures involving the military. There was no way she could recognize him as the operative who had recovered her that long-ago night off the coast of Japan. It had been dark on the ocean. He’d been dressed in his dark battle dress uniform with black paint obscuring his face. His name, rank and serial number were classified. And after the secrets they’d shared in the water that night, Adam preferred it stay that way.
“But it will be the last time.” The president’s statement left no room for argument. “I trust you ladies to have a nice day. I’ll see you both at dinner.” He bowed down to kiss his wife on the lips before patting the head of the little Scottish terrier taking in the scene from Dr. Benoit’s lap. “You boys behave today, as well.”
Giving his father-in-law’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, the president headed for the stairs that would lead him to the West Wing, a line of agents and advisors following him like ants to the anthill.
“Your beau seems like a very nice man, Harry-girl,” Dr. Benoit said, his Southern drawl becoming more noticeable as the Alzheimer’s ate away at his brain. “But there are plenty of fish in the sea. I don’t want you settling down with the first one to put a twinkle in your eye. Don’t forget you’re going to medical school. Don’t you be letting any boy hold you back.”
Josslyn flopped into one of the upholstered chairs with a beleaguered sigh. “She did go to medical school, Daddy. Don’t you remember? She’s a pediatrician. She’s America’s pediatrician.” She made air quotes around the word America’s in a mocking gesture.
The lines on Dr. Benoit’s forehead became more pronounced as he seemed to be scanning his memory banks for the facts. As if sensing a rise in his master’s anxiety level, the little terrier shifted on the doctor’s lap and began whimpering.
“Josslyn,” the First Lady chastised her younger sister, “we don’t ask Alzheimer’s patients if they remember. It’s unfair.”
“Oh, right, it’s just me who gets to be treated unfairly.”
Before the First Lady could respond, Dr. Benoit seemed to catch both women off guard.
“This is a private conversation between me and my daughter, young lady,” he shouted. “And get off the furniture. I’m sure there are some chores you should be doing instead of loitering around all day. You can start by getting me some coffee. Mine’s gone cold.”
Adam nearly lurched at the doctor’s harsh outburst. In the five months since the First Lady’s father had been living with them, Adam hadn’t heard a whisper of gossip from other agents about the man ever raising his voice. In fact, Dr. Benoit was considered a sweetheart by every female agent and Uniformed Division officer at the Crown.
Josslyn stiffened in her chair before her teeth sank into her bottom lip. Whether it was to keep words or a sob locked inside, Adam wasn’t sure. Knowing her personality, he’d bet on a smart retort. She didn’t seem like the crying type.
“Father!” Harriett Manning began. “This is Josslyn. She’s your—”
“Forget it, Harriett. It’s not his fault.” Josslyn sprung from the chair. “I’m happy to get the coffee.”
The First Lady sought out Adam’s eyes after her sister had made her way across the room and into the family kitchen.
“It seems I’m forever in your debt, Agent Lockett,” she said, careful to keep her voice down. “Although I think taking a lead pipe to the head might be preferable to this detail.”
You got that right.
The First Lady wrung her hands. “She’ll come to her senses and toe the line. Josslyn just chafes at being hemmed in. After her mother died, Father was very busy with his surgical practice, which meant Josslyn was left in the care of his second wife’s very domineering mother. The woman didn’t know how to handle her granddaughter’s enormous intellect any more than she did her own daughter’s when she was Josslyn’s age. Her solution to keeping Josslyn in line was endless lessons in cotillion and rigid social restrictions.” She smiled grimly. “Needless to say, rebellion became Josslyn’s drug of choice. I was too busy with my own career and raising a son to be much help. Father just spoiled her when he could. Josslyn doesn’t have the political polish to think first and then speak.” She shrugged. “Luckily for us, she throws herself into causes that are good for society. Deep down, she means well.”
Adam wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d guessed as much about her years ago. Of course, given the fit she was having over a protective detail, he didn’t think Josslyn would “mean well” if she figured out Adam was the same guy she’d had a make-out session with in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
“I’m happy to protect and serve, ma’am,” he replied when it was clear the First Lady expected a response.
“Wow! If that isn’t the party line, I don’t know what is,” the She-Devil remarked as she carried a tray with a coffee mug along with cream and sugar to the table next to her father. “I hope you’ll be ‘happy’ standing all day in the elephant barn at the National Zoo.”
Adam’s jaw clenched so quickly he could feel tiny cracks beginning to form in his teeth. Did she say zoo? Adam swore under his breath. With one conk to the head he’d gone from commanding the elite Hawkeye counter-assault team to inhaling elephant shit for days on end. Suddenly sitting alone in the dark until the last of the concussion fog lifted from his brain seemed to be the wiser career choice.
“That’s enough, Josslyn,” the First Lady snapped. “Special Agent Lockett has a job to do, and you’ll give him and the other agents on your detail the respect they deserve.”
“We’ll do whatever is necessary to allow the protectee to maintain their lifestyle and activities,” Adam bit out.
She paused in the act of fixing her father’s coffee. Smokey gray eyes framed by long dark lashes s
tudied him carefully. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”
The mixture of torment and anger in her eyes nearly knocked Adam off his feet. She knew, damn it. She knew who he was.
Harriett Manning stood abruptly, oblivious to the undercurrent arcing between her sister and Adam. “Really, Josslyn, you are unbearable today. Adam is recovering from a serious injury he suffered in the line of duty,” she scolded. “So I’ll thank you for losing the princess attitude.”
Josslyn straightened to her full height, which wasn’t very intimidating considering the top of her head came to Adam’s chin. “Well, good to know the A-team will be protecting you and Conrad from the bad guys, Harriett. I’ll try to keep things simple and quiet at the zoo so—Agent Lockett, is it—can recover to his full special agent competence level.”
Adam’s fists clenched at his sides. If there was anything he knew about this woman, quiet and simple were not in her toolbox.
“Josslyn!” the First Lady cried. “What has come over you?”
Dr. Benoit began murmuring agitatedly, nearly jettisoning the dog on his lap into the tray of coffee. A male nurse emerged from one of the bedrooms when the older man’s murmurs turned into wails. The terrier began to yap sharply while jumping off the doctor’s knees.
“Daddy,” Josslyn cooed trying to calm the man. But her father flinched when his youngest daughter reached for him.
“Git away from me, girlie,” Dr. Benoit scolded. “I’m not your daddy.”
Josslyn stiffened again. The only part of her body moving was her throat as she swallowed roughly. The First Lady and the nurse helped the doctor to his feet.
“Why don’t you take him to the solarium, Marc,” Harriett Manning said to the nurse. “You’d like some time in the sunshine wouldn’t you, Father?”
The dog yipped excitedly as if the question were posed to him. With the help of the nurse, Dr. Benoit shuffled to the elevator that would take them to the third floor, leaving behind an awkward silence.
“Perhaps when it’s just you here with him . . .” The First Lady’s voice trailed off.
“Don’t,” Josslyn bit out. “It is what it is.”
She abruptly turned toward Adam. He was caught off guard by the brief flash of vulnerability shining in her eyes before she shuttered it. Something tugged in his chest. Oh, hell no! This was why he’d vowed to avoid her at all costs.
“You’re a bit overdressed for a day at the zoo.” She arched an eyebrow in challenge.
He ignored protocol and arched an eyebrow right back at her.
One corner of her sassy mouth turned up, the action seeming to surprise even her. “I recommend you at least change your shoes. We’ll be leaving in twenty-five minutes.”
Lucky for both of them, Adam still had several changes of clothes in a locker downstairs inside the Secret Service lounge. Not to mention his favorite pair of combat boots. If Josslyn Benoit thought she’d get the best of him today, she was sorely mistaken.
“I’ll be ready in ten,” he said.
With a flick of her hair and a swirl of her skirt, Josslyn turned and headed into the Center Hall. Adam fell into step behind her before she stopped abruptly, spinning around so that the fabric of her skirt nearly got tangled in her thighs.
“You don’t have to follow me into my room, do you?”
Adam bit back a smirk. “Just to your doorway.” He paused deliberately before adding, “Ma’am.”
Her gray eyes narrowed and she was off again in a huff. Adam spoke into the microphone tucked discreetly in his cuff, updating Josslyn’s location. The First Family and all protectees within the Crown were tracked on a computer monitor downstairs in the Secret Service director’s office.
“Doolittle to the Queens’ Bedroom,” he relayed. He nearly chuckled at the irony of her room assignment.
Josslyn halted again. Her shoulders shook before she turned to face him. A flush stained her cheeks and she swiped at a strand of hair concealing her eyes. He tried not to notice her fine cleavage on display before him like a decadent buffet, but damn, if her deep breaths weren’t drawing his gaze down like a homing beacon.
“First things, first,” she drawled, bringing Adam’s attention back to that sassy mouth of hers. “That code name is ridiculous. We have to come up with another one.”
“You don’t like your code name?” He shouldn’t be engaging with her. The smart thing to do would be to tell her to take it up with the director. It would serve the man right for sticking Adam with this damn detail, anyway.
“No. I don’t. How would you like to be compared to a character from a children’s book?” she replied before resuming her trek to her bedroom.
“I thought everybody liked Dr. Doolittle.”
She tossed a smokey-eyed glare over her shoulder at him. Adam ignored her. Too bad he couldn’t unsee the cute way she wrinkled her nose.
Cute?
If his head wasn’t already pounding, he’d smack himself.
“Okay, how about Pita?” he suggested before quickly admonishing himself for falling into her trap.
She came to a stop and whirled on him once again just as she reached the East Hall. “PETA? As in the People for the Ethical Treatment for Animals?” She donned a quizzical look that had her damn nose wrinkling up again. “That’s good.”
Adam might have felt a little burst of pride had she not looked as if she didn’t expect him to have a lick of sense in his head. She took a few more steps before placing her hand on the doorknob to the Queens’ Bedroom and pinning him with another one of her steely-eyed looks.
“Or, did you mean pita as in the sandwich? That wouldn’t surprise me given how you’ve been hungrily checking out my ass.”
She was so close.
Ignoring the voice in his head telling him to stand down, Adam decided to put the She-Devil in her place. “I meant P-I-T-A as in Pain. In. The. Ass.”
Her eyes went wide for a moment before narrowing to slits. With a roll of her shoulders, affording him one last glimpse at the thin silver chain buried between the hollow of her breasts, she flung open her bedroom door. Before she could storm away from him, however, Adam snared her wrist in his fingers. He was way out of line, but he didn’t care. Let them send him back to convalesce in the dark. He’d deal with it. But if he had to withstand the next few weeks protecting this woman, he was sure as hell going to let her know who was in charge.
“And you don’t need to trouble that pretty little head of yours about the competency of your protective detail,” he growled next to her ear. “Because there’s not a single part of me that isn’t in prime working order. Not. One.”
Adam let that sink in before releasing her. Josslyn’s tongue peeked out to trace her lower lip. Her breathing was a bit unsteady as she slowly raised her gaze to meet his. His junk tightened up at the challenge reflected there.
“You’ve got twenty-one minutes, Special Agent Lockett.”
Chapter Three
Josslyn flopped back onto the mattress of the centuries-old canopied bed in the suite that, true to its name, had hosted actual queens. When she glanced up at the floral fabric overhead, the pattern began playing tricks on her vision, making it look as though the canopy was slowly easing down to smother her. Given how her life was going, it would be a fitting way to die.
Slamming her eyes closed, Josslyn tried to calm her breathing. She dug into her blouse, yanking at the chain anchoring her talisman to her neck. Reverently, she fingered a silver St. Luke medallion her daddy gave her the day her momma died. The metal was warm from resting against Josslyn’s skin. Its edges had been worn smooth from years of sliding against her daddy’s chest. He’d first put it on as a young flight surgeon in Vietnam. Josslyn’s earliest memory of her daddy was his booming laugh when she tried in vain to grab at the shiny piece of jewelry with her chubby toddler fingers.
Tears burned the back of her eyes when she brought the medallion to her lips.
“You promised if I kept this with me, you
’d always come back, Daddy,” Josslyn whispered. “Well, I never take it off. Yet you keep slipping further and further away.” She swallowed what might have been a sob.
Crying never solved anything, her daddy would always say. At least, the daddy she remembered—the one who remembered her. He was always so proud of Josslyn’s bravery; her tenacity. Never be one of them girly-girls your grandma is trying to turn you into. She’d spent much of her life trying to live up to the ideals he’d laid out for her. And now the man who’d claimed she was the light of his golden years didn’t even remember she existed. Just where did that leave her, exactly?
“Trapped,” she murmured. “At least I can relate to how the elephants feel at the zoo.”
Josslyn thumped her fists down on the bed with a growl. Of all the damn Secret Service agents in the White House, of course, she had to be assigned the Tower of Testosterone. And the idiot pretended not to know her. Her breath stuttered again. She’d spent the past two years fantasizing about what it would be like to come face-to-face with her rescuer again. This morning’s confrontation was nothing close to what she’d dreamed. For months after he vanished, she’d bugged Conrad’s chief of staff for information about the man who had saved her life. All she’d been told was his identity was classified because he worked as a sniper for president’s elite protective detail. But she’d recognize those eyes anywhere. Probably because she knew the secrets behind them.
Well, he would never do as part of her detail. The arrogant man saw too much with those sharpshooter eyes of his. Most women were probably sucked in by the thick lashes—as dark as his close-cropped hair—framing bottle glass-green pupils. Josslyn, however, was not. She saw Special Agent Adam Lockett for exactly what he was. A man who could kiss a woman senseless and then vanish into thin air. If that wasn’t enough, he obviously liked to wield power through the barrel of a rifle. He was the very antithesis of the ideals Josslyn championed.
Shot in the Dark Page 3