Nowhere to Hide

“Do you have the key?” Lovell asked.

Gage thought about it and realized his key ring was probably still at his desk in Salt Lake City. He made a face.

“Guess not.” The agent pulled out a credit card, ready to pick the lock, then tried the knob. It turned easily, putting Gage instantly on alert. Why was the door open?

Lovell opened the door and Davis wheeled him inside the living room. Gage gazed around, disoriented. He had been in the hospital for over a week. Had he maybe forgotten where he lived, given the guys the wrong address somehow?

No, this was his cottage. He recognized his furniture—the leather sofa and recliner he’d brought along from his previous assignment in San Francisco, the oak coffee table he’d made with his own hands the last time he’d visited his father’s cabinet shop in Nevada, the big-screen TV he hardly had time to watch.

This was his cottage but what the hell had happened to it? He wasn’t particularly messy but neither was he obsessive about housework. This place sparkled, without any dust or that closed-up feeling he might have expected after it had sat empty for a week.

There were fresh flowers in a canning jar on the coffee table and the whole place smelled of clean laundry and chicken noodle soup.

He was still trying to figure what dimension Cale and Lovell had wheeled him into when a beautiful woman stepped out of his kitchen like something out of his deepest fantasies.

She was lithe and curvy and wore nothing but an apron.

Chapter 3

He blinked at the vision in front of him.

She had short, wispy brown hair, blue eyes the color of mountain columbines behind small wire-rimmed glasses, and a figure that could make a man’s mouth water.

“Oh! You’re here!” the delectable vision standing in his living room exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. I was busy cleaning up in the kitchen and didn’t hear you arrive.”

Gage was vaguely aware of Lovell and Cale sharing a look before his partner stepped forward with his hand outstretched, a charming smile playing around his mouth.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Cale Davis and this is Thompson Lovell. You must be a friend of McKinnon’s.”

She gave him a hesitant smile and shook his hand, then reached behind her to untie the strings of her apron. Gage was vaguely aware he was holding his breath, then he let it out on a disappointed sigh. She had shorts on underneath, he was rather disheartened to discover. Navy-blue shorts that skimmed the top of long, shapely legs.

“We’re not really friends,” she answered Cale. “We’ve only met once, just for a moment.”

Through the pain beginning to pound through his legs like tribal drums beating out a message, Gage forced himself to look at her more closely. Now he recognized her. If he hadn’t been half-dazed from pain and fatigue, he would have figured it out much earlier. “You’re the lady from next door with the two dark-haired little girls.”

She nodded with a wary look.

He must have been blind or crazy not to have noticed those high cheekbones and her full, delectable lips when he spoke with her before. No, when he had gone to her house to talk to her, he had only been focused on her daughters’ safety, just as he should have been.

“Yes. I’m Lisa C-Connors. You met my daughters Gaby and Anna.”

“The flower pickers. Where are they?”

“Playing in your backyard. Your fenced backyard.”

Fences wouldn’t mean diddly to someone who wanted to take two cute little girls. He was going to say something along those lines but pain again reached up with a mighty fist and yanked the words out of his head. He grimaced instead, suddenly light-headed.

Damn, he hated this.

“You must be exhausted. Let’s get you into bed, Mr. McKinnon.”

A quick, sensual image flashed through his mind, momentarily taking the edge off his discomfort. Bed. Not a bad idea. It had been way too long since he’d slid his fingers over soft, female skin—filled his hands with willing flesh—and he suddenly wanted desperately for that willing flesh to belong to the woman standing in front of him.

But then, he probably wouldn’t be good for much with two bum legs, and he definitely didn’t need Lovell and Cale looking on.

“A very attractive offer, believe me,” he murmured through the soft haze in his head. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline. Maybe another time, sweetheart.”

Color flared high along her cheekbones. “Not funny, Mr. McKinnon.”

“Sorry. You’re right.” He drew in a breath, feeling like both a jerk and a major-league wuss. He never thought he could be this wiped out by a couple of war wounds.

“How long ago did you take your last pain pill?”

He raised an eyebrow, wishing the simple movement didn’t make his head feel quite so woozy. “Remind me again why any of this is your business. What are you doing here? This is still my house, isn’t it?”

She frowned. “Ruth didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She hired me to help you out while you recuperate.”

“She told me she hired someone. I never thought to ask details.”

Another wave of pain washed over him and he gripped the armrests of the wheelchair. Okay, at this point he was willing to forget about soft, willing flesh, as long as he could get horizontal for a few moments.

Lisa Connors stepped forward. “You need to be in bed. Let’s get you settled.”

He didn’t have any energy left to argue so he let her wheel him into his bedroom, where he discovered the little elves had also been busy. His comfortably roomy king bed was gone, replaced by some steel hospital contraption just like the one he had just left.

“Where’s my bed?” he asked, uncomfortably aware he sounded like a grumpy toddler in need of a nap.

“Ruth and I took it down and stored it in the shed behind the house. The home health-care provider sent this one over instead since the doctors said you’ll need to keep your legs elevated a great deal of the time and this way we can raise the foot of your bed to facilitate that. With that big bed you had, there wasn’t much room in here to move a wheelchair around and we thought this one will be much easier for you to transfer in and out of since it can be lowered to wheelchair level.”

He liked his bed. He was a big man who needed space to sprawl around in, and these dinky hospital beds just didn’t cut it. He didn’t want to sound any more whiny than he already did, though, so he opted to keep his mouth shut.

He was distracted, anyway, when his neighbor lady took charge and helped Cale and Lovell move him from the wheelchair to the bed. He was relieved to discover the pain of the transfer was only agonizing instead of excruciating.

By the time he was settled, he was thinking he owed the doctors a huge apology. They were right, he was crazy to disregard their advice and insist on going home so early.

“You’re a lucky man, McKinnon,” Cale murmured to him after Lisa left the room to grab his pain pills and a glass of water. “I wouldn’t mind being laid up for a couple weeks if I had such a sweet young thing attending to my every need.”

A sweet young thing with two little girls and a chip the size of Montana on her shoulder, Gage reminded himself.

If he could hang on to any of the thoughts racketing around his head like a pinball in the middle of a record-breaking game, he could probably come up with at least a couple of reasons why it wasn’t such a great idea to have her here caring for him.

Since he couldn’t think right now beyond sinking into this bed and not waking up for a week, he decided he could always worry about it later.

She returned with the water and his prescription and handed him two of those annoying little white pills. “Here you go. Are you hungry? I made some chicken noodle soup. My grandma’s recipe, with real homemade noodles. It might help settle your stomach from the pills.”