Special Agent Nanny

by Linda O. Johnston

  In fact, Louis Paxler did know who he was—sort of. But he hadn’t seen the administrator that day and had no reason to think Paxler knew of the continued existence of the Silver Rapids patient files, or that they were now in the possession of Colorado Confidential.

  “Plus,” he continued, “until we know why Jenny was so upset, I have no intention of letting her—or you—out of my sight unless I’m sure there’ll be no equivalent of a speeding ambulance tonight. Or another fire.”

  “Here?” Kelley blanched.

  “Who knows? Just call me overly cautious.”

  “I’ll call you a realist,” she said with a sigh. Then she added scathingly, “And a man.”

  He smiled at her quizzically. “You say ‘man’ as if you’re swearing a blue streak.”

  She shrugged a slender shoulder in a movement that stretched her blouse tighter over her small yet curvy breasts, making him even more aware he was a man—and she was, most definitely, the opposite sex.

  “I hate it when a man gives me orders,” she said. “I’d rather be told reasons for a demand, then given a choice.”

  “Sometimes there is no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.” She glared a finely honed dagger or two. Then she stood and started to busy herself with a paper towel, cleaning a counter that was already pristine.

  “Why do I think I missed the first act of this play?” He rose and took her shoulders from behind. He’d only thought she was trembling before. Now he felt the shudders wracking her.

  “What’s wrong, Kelley?” he asked in alarm.

  Her expression, when she pivoted to look up at him, was filled with such pain that he felt it stab through him, too.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You did miss the first act of this play. And the second.”

  “Fill me in.” He held her close against him, waiting for her to pull away and tell him to go to hell.

  Instead, after a minute, she began to talk, her breath heating a spot in the center of his chest. “It’s not just you. I’m tired of being told what to do, how to live, what to think. And being punished if I fail to act like a good little girl.”

  “Who hurt you, Kelley?” he demanded roughly into the sweet fragrance of her hair. “That s.o.b. Randall?”

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. And it’s not anything you want to hear.”

  “Tell me,” he insisted, “and I’ll fix it.”

  “Spoken like a man. But there’s no way you or anyone else can fix it.” But with a little more coaxing, she did tell him what he wanted to know. Even though she was right. There was nothing he could do. Except listen. And hold her.

  Speaking against him, as if to herself, she described a bummer of a childhood, in which her domineering father had insisted that Kelley’s mother be a perfect, storybook wife with no mind of her own. “She did everything just right. She was an ideal mother to my sister and me, kept an immaculate house, entertained with flair whenever he wanted, chauffeured, scheduled, whatever. But if she ever dared ask to do something she wanted, he shouted her down and told her what a miserable excuse for a wife she was. She believed it. And when she no longer had the role of mother, too—when my sister and I were grown and out of the house—she left him. Us, too.”

  “Then she did get away? Good for her.”

  Kelley yanked herself free with a bitter laugh. “She committed suicide.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying again to draw her close.

  “Did I learn my lesson?” Kelley continued as if she hadn’t heard him. She stood rigidly, fists clenched, staring over his shoulder as if at the ugly specter of her past. “No. I married a doctor, like my father. That part was okay. But the doctor was Randall, who was already considered the best damned cardiologist at Gilpin Hospital—maybe in Denver—while I was in med school. I couldn’t believe someone so preeminent could care for a nobody like me. When he asked me to marry him, I was in ecstasy. Of course he told me not to specialize in cardiology. Women weren’t good in specialties requiring so much knowledge. Internal medicine—well, that was all right. Until I had Jenny. He wanted the mother of his child to stay home and specialize in that. He demanded that I quit practicing medicine and become a perfect wife.” She laughed aloud. “Sound familiar?”

  “You’re not your mother, Kelley,” he said quietly, his hands itching to pull her close again. He wanted to soothe away every hurt she had ever felt. And not only to comfort her.

  To hold her. To touch her.

  “No,” she said, “I’m not my mother, though the hell of it is I wondered if he was right. But I fought it, because I intended to be a good role model for my daughter. I told my husband no. So he divorced me.”

  “No great loss.” Shawn could have slugged himself in the gut. Talk about a male blurting something insensitive. But instead of getting angrier, she laughed.

  “No great loss,” she agreed. She took a deep breath and shook her head. Her auburn hair shimmered in the artificial light of the kitchen. “Anyway, I don’t take orders. It’s as simple as that.” She didn’t appear angry anymore. Just defiant.

  And sexy as hell, as she stood with her hands on her hips as if daring him to give her one more order. He felt challenged.

  And turned on. Very turned on.

  “Go to bed with me, Kelley,” he said. “Now.”

  Her eyes widened. This time, when she laughed, it sounded nervous. And sexy. From way deep in her throat. “Was that an order?”

  “No, a plea. From a man who’s in agony from wanting you.”

  He didn’t think why or how he’d begun to burn with desire for her. One moment she’d been spilling her guts, and he’d wanted to kiss her and make her feel better as he did with tots at KidClub. But she was not a child. Oh, no. And the kisses he wanted to share with her would only churn up his own aches.

  Something inside him—his conscience? His common sense?—demanded what he was doing. Sex with a suspect? It had to be one of his profession’s biggest taboos.

  And yet, if he really still suspected she was an arsonist, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—be doing this.

  Would she say no? He’d learned not to let rejection bother him…sort of. But with this woman, he wondered if he could stand it. Her gaze searched his, even as her full, ripe lips parted, and she gnawed her lower one—just as he wanted to do.

  “I don’t stand for possessiveness,” she said huskily. “When men have sex, they want to own the woman they bed. But if I go to bed with you, it’s because I want to then. And I may never want to again. Understood?”

  “Understood.” Shawn heard the hitch in his voice. He wondered whether he could close the short distance between them without limping, he was so hard.

  He didn’t have to. In moments, she was in his arms.

  “We can’t stay in here,” she said, looking up at him with eyes that flashed with desire so fiery that he felt the conflagration spread inside him. “And we’ll have to be quiet so we don’t wake Jenny.”

  “Of course.” He bent down to kiss her, but she wasn’t finished talking.

  “You won’t get territorial?” she murmured against his lips.

  “Not me,” he assured her, pulling back to look her in the face. Her angelic, devilishly delicious, heart-shaped, heart-stopping face. “One thing I’m not is territorial.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. When you were a kid, you learned about men giving orders. When I was a kid—well, no home, no family and definitely no territory.” Still… The idea of some other man touching her…he’d have to get over it.

  She looked stricken. “Tell me about it.”

  “Another time,” he said, and took her back into his arms.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kelley held Shawn’s hand as she led him toward her bedroom.

  Was this a mistake? Maybe. He was still a controlling man. But though he hadn’t told her so, he didn’t act now as if he still considered her suspect. Instead, she felt more as if he protected h
er. Cared for her. Was she delusional? If so, she wanted it to go on—at least for now.

  She stopped at Jenny’s room and glanced inside. Fortunately, her young daughter slept soundly. She closed the door nearly all the way, leaving it slightly ajar so she would be able to hear if Jenny cried out.

  Her craving for Shawn turned every nerve in her body into raw need. Was there a medical term for such intense, explosive desire? At least she knew exactly what the cure was—Shawn.

  She hesitated inside her bedroom door, scanning the room anxiously as if through his eyes. She’d moved into this house with Jenny two years ago, after the divorce. It was the first time any man had seen her bedroom. Except the movers, of course, and the men who had laid the thick, cream-colored wall-to-wall carpeting.

  What would Shawn think of it? Not that it was all frills and femininity, but the wallpaper was riotously floral, and she had placed leafy green potted plants along the walls, on shelves, atop her pine dresser and chest of drawers.

  The room even smelled fresh and green.

  She’d wanted plants before, but Randall had been allergic.

  What if Shawn—?

  “This is great.” He pulled her close so her back nestled against the solid, sexy planes of his chest. “I’ve always imagined making love in a jungle.” He pushed closer, and she could feel his hardness strain against her buttocks. “The wilder the better.”

  Laughing huskily, Kelley pulled away to face him. Lord, but not touching him piqued her desire!

  Quickly, she turned to close and lock the door behind them so Jenny couldn’t walk in on them. But her daughter, even after the fire, always slept through the night. No matter what else went on, Kelley would still be listening for her child. “I’m not sure how to do wild,” she said looking at Shawn once more, “but I’m willing to learn.”

  She barely had time to take another breath before his mouth closed over hers—ravenously. Wildly.

  She kissed back with fervor that astounded her. Her tongue flicked rhythmically in a natural dueling duet, one where both combatants were glorious winners.

  She used her hands to pull his head even closer. His fingers combed through her hair and downward, over her back, clasping her behind. He dipped so his face was even with hers, and his hands explored lower, centering beneath her skirt. Between her thighs. And upward.

  Kelley gasped, even as Shawn groaned her name. And stroked her there outside her sheer, light undergarments. Harder. Deeper.

  Wild? That didn’t describe the half of her longing for more.

  When she tried to shut off the light, he stopped her. “I want to watch you,” he growled. The idea of making love not in the dark, but with every sense in play—watching him—enflamed her even further.

  His hands snaked around, cupping her breasts over her blouse. Inching their way between buttons. Inside her shirt.

  Inside her bra. Rubbing her nipples till they yearned for more.

  She tugged at his jeans as they tripped together toward the bed. Her skirt fell to the floor. Her blouse and bra. Her slip.

  Her panty hose took longer.

  And then they were on her bed, atop the thick, soft coverlet. Flowered, of course.

  She watched as he removed his shirt and boxers. Her eyes slitted in lust but she refused to close them. She wanted to see every muscular contour on his hard and angular male body.

  To observe his very thick, very aroused erection that stoked her own fires. Melted her. Moistened her, as he touched her even more there, where her desire was centered.

  She had to touch him, too, but after a moment, he took her hand. Stopped her.

  “We’ll do it slow next time, Kelley,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me, neither,” she managed to whisper.

  She heard the rustle of a plastic wrapper and smiled approvingly at his readiness and caution. And then he was pressed against her. It had been so long that she felt small and tight and very, very needy. When he hesitated, she thrust her hips so that she took him inside fast.

  There was a shock of pain, yes, but the shock was mostly the rapture in having him there. Pulsing and thick and hard.

  “Are you—”

  She didn’t let him finish but grabbed his neck, pulling his face down so she could kiss him, taste him, even as she rocked her hips upward, urging him to move.

  The rhythm he began was slow only at first, but in moments it accelerated and crescendoed. Quickly. But not so fast that it left Kelley behind.

  She cried out, even as his groan heralded his release. He stiffened in her arms, then crumpled onto her in a delightful, spent, supple heap.

  Kelley must have fallen asleep, for the next thing she recalled was a kiss. Soft and sweet and gentle at first.

  Until she came fully awake and joined in.

  And realized they were still in her bed. Still nude.

  The lights were on, and she looked at him. And saw that his need had returned. Really returned.

  Desire once more danced through her.

  This time, they took their time.

  As they did the time after that.

  SHAWN WOKE EARLY. He always did.

  Today, he had more reason.

  He didn’t stir at first. Instead, he watched Kelley.

  Her hair, gold-flecked and fiery, lay tousled on pale green sheets. Her eyelashes were so long, they nearly touched her high cheekbones as she slept, and their auburn shade, like her hair in a more intimate place, proved her hair color was natural.

  She was natural. There was no artifice in her lovemaking. She held nothing back.

  His groin stirred at the mere thought of last night. He stifled an irritable mutter at himself. No time now. He would leave soon, before Kelley had to awaken Jenny.

  Not that a child that age would understand, but neither would she know to avoid mentioning at KidClub about how Shawn stayed at her house last night.

  No need to embarrass Kelley. Or make his job harder.

  For now, he just watched Kelley. She breathed deeply, rhythmically raising and lowering the top sheet, which had slipped to the swell of her breasts. He had a momentary urge to pull back the sheet farther, to get one more glimpse of the firm mounds and their sweetly appetizing nipples.

  Her eyes popped open. They widened as if in surprise to find him there, then narrowed to catlike, contented slits. “Good morning.” Her husky whisper poured over him, hardening him. As if he needed more to raise his desire to fever level.

  “Good morning.” He tried to sound cool but failed miserably. “Time for me to leave.”

  “Oh.” The disappointment in her voice made him grin.

  “What time do you usually wake Jenny?”

  She raised up to look over his shoulder at the clock he’d noticed on the bedside table behind him. The sheet slipped farther.

  “I didn’t realize it was so late. Sometimes she even wakes me.” Kelley sat up, holding the sheet in front of her. “You’re right. It’s definitely time for you to leave.”

  But before Shawn got dressed, he checked to make sure the bedroom door was still locked—and gave Kelley one heck of a kiss to remember him by.

  KELLEY DIDN’T REGRET a moment of what she had shared last night—and this morning—with Shawn. But the glow faded a little as she hurried to get herself and Jenny dressed. She let Jenny pick her own outfit for the day, a Minnie Mouse T-shirt over peach knit slacks. But that did not help her daughter’s difficult mood.

  Kelley had already donned her own black sleeveless shell and soft gray pantsuit. As they got ready to leave, Jenny, grumpy and on the verge of a tantrum, made it clear that she didn’t want to go to KidClub.

  Kelley had patients scheduled all day, after rounds. And the only way she could try to learn what had upset Jenny yesterday was to take her back, try to get her to talk.

  Besides, honoring a tantrum only encouraged more.

  Kelley finally got Jenny into the car. As she drove toward the hospital, she saw an
other vehicle pull close behind.

  Her heart skipped a beat until, in her rearview mirror, she recognized a familiar, utterly handsome male face grinning at her.

  Shawn had left her house, but he hadn’t stopped watching over them. The thought warmed her and made her grin right back.

  As they passed through their residential neighborhood into one that was more commercial, Kelley remembered this was Friday. “This is the day we promised to buy morning treats,” she told Jenny.

  They stopped at a convenience store she’d scoped out. It sold presliced fruit as well as doughnuts.

  Unsurprisingly, Shawn joined them inside. Jenny’s grumpiness evaporated as he lifted her high into the air. “Good morning, princess,” he said. “Isn’t this a coincidence?”

  “What’s a c’incidence?” Jenny asked as he set her back on her feet.

  “A very happy surprise.”

  Kelley noted he wore a blue shirt, not the one she had all but ripped from him last night. Did he keep a change of clothes in his car in anticipation of evenings like that with other women? The idea made her crazy.

  But he was an investigator. Undercover. He had to be prepared for any situation, like all-night stakeouts, right?

  It was not something she wanted to ask.

  A while later, Jenny ran into KidClub with Kelley and Shawn following. Shawn held the box of doughnuts and Kelley the bag with fruit. She watched for Juan Cortes on the way in, but the janitor wasn’t in sight. It was later than he usually brought the treats in for the children. Since she hadn’t followed his example, she wondered if he would ever allow her to treat again.

  She cut the doughnuts into small pieces acceptable to the kids’ parents.

  “We runned into Shawn at the store,” Jenny proudly told her friend Claire, as the kids gathered around to make their choices. “It was a c’incidence.”

  Kelley smiled at Shawn as her daughter was asked to explain the big word. “See you later,” she told him. Then, kneeling to give Jenny a goodbye hug and kiss, she said, “Have fun, sweetheart. And listen to Shawn.”