Swallowing hard, Dylan examined what he was feeling for the woman who had saved his nephew’s life.

The television caught his attention. The reporter was talking about Paige’s amazing rescue this morning. Captivated and horrified all at the same time, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman who stood in front of the school where it had all happened giving a detailed account of the near miss.

In his mind, he watched it all over again as Paige’s bike flashed in front of the car, her arm snaking out to grab Will and then the front headlight of the car clipping her back wheel. And down she went.

He sucked in a lungful of air.

Not knowing where the sensation came from, he couldn’t help feeling his life was getting ready to be rocked by the woman lying on the bed upstairs.

Agent Undercover

Lynette Eason

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader,

I do hope you had as much fun reading this story as I had creating it. It was a thrill to revisit Rose Mountain (the little North Carolina town first created in the novella Dark Obsession—February 2010). Dylan and Paige made such a great couple, I found myself cheering for them as they fell in love. And Will, ah, yes, little Will. I hope you thought he was as adorable as I did. True, he suffered a horrible trauma, but because of a whole lot of love, patience and counseling, he came through everything a fighter. I just loved that about him. A funny thing about the little boy in this story—I was writing and my nine-year-old son came in to read over my shoulder as I worked. He does that sometimes. And I said I had to change the name of the little boy in the story for various reasons. My son looked at me and said, “Use my name.” Then he gave me that dimpled grin. How could I say no? So, the little boy in the story became Will.

Paige had a lot of fear in her life. Her fear almost made her lose out on a great guy and future full of love and happiness. I hope that if you’re dealing with some kind of fear that’s keeping you from enjoying life to the fullest, you’ll give it to God and take that leap of faith that God Himself wants you to have life and have it more abundantly.

God bless!

To my sweet parents, Lewis and Lou Jean Barker,

who support me in all that I do. I love you!

The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?

—Psalms 27:1

ONE

Undercover Drug Enforcement Agent Paige Ashworth, known as Paige Worth in the little town of Rose Mountain, North Carolina, realized she had only seconds to act or the child would be dead. Shoving her right foot down on the bicycle pedal, she ignored her pounding heart and the desperate fear that said she didn’t have enough time.

The little boy stood frozen in the middle of the school’s crosswalk, eyes locked on the approaching vehicle. Time slowed until everything blurred except the child.

The crossing guard yelled something and, from the corner of her eye, Paige saw the man to her left bolt toward the terrified boy. The agonized expression on his face revealed that he knew he wouldn’t make it in time.

“Will!” The hoarse scream tore from his throat, echoing in the air.

Doing her best not to think about the danger, she pedaled furiously, weaving in and out of the few stragglers still on the sidewalk, and swept into the crosswalk. The sun beat down in her eyes as the car’s engine screamed in her ears, warning her she would lose this game of chicken.

But she had to try.

Paige could feel the heat radiating from the vehicle as she reached out to snag the boy around his waist. She knew she would be off balance and would probably hit the ground. Her only thought was to get clear of the car.

In spite of the muscles screaming in her right arm with the weight of the boy, she felt elation sweep through her.

She’d made it. Then something clipped her back wheel.

The bicycle handlebar lurched from her one-handed grasp and she lost control.

Felt herself going down.

Saw the ground coming up.

And twisted at the last minute so she was the one who crashed first, the child’s body slamming onto her.

A sharp pain lanced the back of her head and then blackness descended.

Doctor Dylan Seabrook shook with fear and adrenaline. “Will!”

He raced to his nephew and grabbed him from his prone position on top of the woman who’d just saved Will’s life. Dropping to his knees beside her, he did his best to assess the damage as quickly as possible.

She wasn’t moving, her face white like death, blond hair splayed on the ground. But he could see her breathing. With one hand, he felt for a pulse under her chin, even as his other ran over Will’s small frame checking for injuries.

He looked up at the nearest person. “Has someone called 911?”

“I did,” a voice said to his left.

One person at a time, Dylan told himself. He gave Will a more thorough check and breathed a grateful sigh that he appeared physically unhurt, but the blank stare sent fear racing through Dylan. Will hadn’t spoken in over eight weeks. Ever since his mother had died in a house fire. What would this do to him?

But he couldn’t think about that now. The woman was hurt. Again, he glanced at Will. The boy just watched him with no expression on his face. Dylan grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to him. “Sit here, buddy, all right?”

Obedience, but no other response.

Switching to doctor mode, he glanced at the second hand on his watch while he took the woman’s pulse. Steady and strong. Relief hit him.

As did the fact that she was undeniably beautiful. Beautiful and hurt.

He’d not only seen her head crack against the asphalt, he’d heard it. Just the memory of it made him sick. Why hadn’t she been wearing a helmet? With one hand, he lifted each lid, noting the startling blue of her eyes even as he professionally assessed her pupils. One big, one small. A concussion.

A siren screamed in the distance. He placed a hand under her head to feel for a bump—and felt a warm wetness.

Pulling his hand away, he wiped the blood on his jeans. A brief thought that he should have waited until he had gloves flashed through his mind, but he dismissed it. The woman had saved Will’s life. He would do whatever he had to do to save hers.

Sounds rushed at him, and he realized people were gathering around them in a crush. “Hey, move back and let her breathe, will you?”

Several people complied. But the concerned conversations buzzed around him like a swarm of bees.

Startled, he watched his nephew reach out and touch the woman’s hand then slip his small fingers into her palm.

Emotion gripped Dylan’s throat and wonder exploded through him. But he didn’t have to time to think about what Will’s reaching out to her meant.

Dylan wanted to examine the wound on the back of her head, but didn’t want to turn her neck. He ran his hands down her arms, his gaze once again drawn to Will’s small hand in hers. Then back to business. Scrapes, bruises, a couple of gashes but nothing broken. He repeated his inspection on her legs. Same story.

His heart started to slow. No broken bones.

He glanced at her white face. No doubt along with the bad concussion, she’d have an even worse headache. Hopefully, that would be the extent of her injuries except for a few bumps and bruises.

The sirens continued to grow closer until the ambulance came into view.

A man stood in the street directing traffic. Two police cars pulled up and one of the officers took over. The other approached, a frown on his face. Spying Dylan, recognition dawned. “What happened, Doc?”

“Hey, Franco. She saved Will’s life and got hit by a car for her trouble. The car kept going. Never put on the brakes, I don’t think.”

“Anybody get a plate?”

“I don’t know. I know I didn’t.”

“I’m going to start taking statements.”

Dylan acknowledged him with a nod and felt for her pulse one more time.

The paramedics pushed their way through the crowd, and Dylan recognized Lisa Bell and her partner, Sam Clark. Dylan told them, “We need a neck collar. She wasn’t wearing a helmet and she took a hard hit to the head. Her pulse is steady, and there are no broken bones that I could feel.”

The paramedics got to work on her. Soon she was ready for transport, and Dylan watched them load her up to be transported to the hospital about thirty minutes away in Bryson City.

Turning, he asked, “Who is she? Does anyone know?”

“Her name’s Paige Worth.”

Dylan eyed the man who’d spoken. Principal Tom Bridges. “Does she have any family that we can contact?”

Tom frowned and gave a shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll see who she listed on her application as an emergency contact. Today was supposed to be her first day on the job. She’s my new guidance counselor.”

The ambulance screamed off, and Dylan picked Will up to hold him and hopefully offer the child some comfort. “Okay.” He studied his nephew. “I think Will is okay, but I’m going to take him to the hospital just to make sure, maybe have a couple of X-rays. I’ll check on Ms. Worth while I’m there.” He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to the man. “I know you can get my number from Will’s file, but this will be easier. Please call and let me know who her contact person is.” Dylan swallowed. “I want to talk to him or her.”

Compassion lit the man’s eyes. “Sure.”

Dylan headed back to his house for his car, feeling Will’s slight weight in his arms. Giving thanks for the life he held, a life that was almost cut short, he settled Will in his booster seat and wondered how he’d ever be able to pay Ms. Worth back for her selfless deed. He decided he’d pick up her totaled bike and keep it for her in case she wanted to salvage it for parts. He made a quick call to Principal Bridges, who assured Dylan that he’d hold the bike for him.

He started the car and pulled into the street. “Hey, Will, you all right, bud?”

Will simply met his eyes in the rearview mirror. Dylan sighed, wondering when the child would decide to speak. But even Will’s counselor couldn’t offer him a time frame. She just said they had to give him his space and time to heal.

Dylan noticed the car on his rear bumper. A car that looked suspiciously like the one that had almost hit Will. Dylan pressed the brake and slowed, giving the car the opportunity to go around him.

Instead, the vehicle slowed to keep the same amount of distance between them.

His pulse sped up and he swallowed hard.

Was he being followed?

Dylan put on his blinker and moved into the right-hand lane.

The car behind him did the same.

Sweat pooled on his forehead as Dylan considered his options. He took a right at the next block.

So did his tail.

The dark tint to the windshield prevented him from getting a good look at the driver, but it was definitely a male. He glanced at Will. The boy was oblivious to the possible danger, simply gazing out his window, trusting his uncle knew what he was doing.

Dylan flexed his fingers on the wheel and made the next turn that would take him to the police station two blocks away.

And the car behind him sped away.

There was no way to get a license number. He pulled into the police station parking lot and turned the car off.

Pulling a napkin from the glove compartment, Dylan wiped the sweat off his face and gathered his thoughts.

Should he go in and report the incident?

What incident? he mocked himself. Someone followed you a little too close, then turned off.

But the car resembled the one from this morning.

“It was white.”

Will looked at him with a frown, and Dylan realized he’d spoken the words aloud. With a sigh and a prayer, Dylan turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. His eyes swept the surrounding area and didn’t notice the white car waiting on him.

The tension in his shoulders released its grip and he relaxed a bit. “Sorry for the winding route, Will. I just had to check something out.”

The little boy didn’t respond other than to rub his eyes as though tired.

Dylan may have decided not to report the incident, but knew he wouldn’t forget it.

Pain. That was her first thought. Her first feeling. Her first moment of awareness.

It felt like shards of glass biting into her skull with relentless determination. Her eyelids fluttered, and she thought she saw someone seated on the chair next to her.

Why was she in bed?

Memories flitted back. Bits and pieces. A little boy. A school. A crosswalk. A speeding car.

And she’d pedaled like a madwoman to dart in front of the car to rescue the child.

A gasp escaped her and she woke a little more. The pain faded to a dull throb. Where was the little boy? Was he all right?

Cool wetness touched her lips, and she jolted to realize how thirsty she was. Greedily, she gulped at the water.

Awareness struggled into full consciousness, and she opened her eyes. Light filtered in around the closed curtains, and she squinted, her head sending warning signals.

Instead of listening, Paige pried her eyes fully open to stare into one of the most beautiful faces she’d ever seen. Aquamarine eyes crinkled at the corners, and full lips curved into a smile. She wanted to respond but was scared the movement would bring back the pounding pain.

The lips spoke. “Hello. Welcome back.”

Another sweet face pushed its way into her line of sight. A little boy about six years old. Solemn blue eyes stared at her. His lips didn’t smile, but a lone wrinkle on his forehead alerted her that he was worried about her.

With an effort, Paige forced her lips to curve upward. “Hi,” she whispered.

The wrinkle smoothed, and she thought she saw the beginnings of a smile before it disappeared.

The hand over hers squeezed. “You saved Will’s life, you know.”

She had? Will. The little boy had a name. “Oh. Good.” Her smiled slipped into a frown. “I was afraid I couldn’t do it. That car …” She licked her lips, and the man reached over Will’s head to pick up the cup. He held the straw to her lips, and she took a long swallow.

“Thanks.”

He set the cup back down. “I’m Dylan Seabrook. This is my nephew, Will Price.”

The name jolted her. Doing her best to keep her expression neutral, she simply smiled at him. She wanted to nod but didn’t dare. “Hello, Dylan, Will.” She focused on the boy. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“And he is, thanks to you. I tried …” He swallowed hard. “There’s no way I would have been able to reach him in time. The crossing guard gave the all clear. Every day, I stand on the sidewalk and watch him cross to the waiting teacher who leads that group into the school.” His voice had a raspy sound to it, and she realized he was doing his best to keep his emotions from overflowing.

Closing her eyes, Paige could see the racing car coming closer, hear the roar of the engine …

She flicked her eyelids up. “Did they catch him? Whoever was in the car?”

Dylan shook his head. “No. He—or she—never stopped. And we were all so focused on getting you help that no one even got the license number.”

She sighed. “Well, I’m glad Will is okay. That’s all that really matters.”

“Why didn’t you have a helmet on?”

Paige couldn’t stop the flush that crept up her neck. Quite sure her cheeks were a rosy red, she said, “Because I—” She cut her eyes to the child who watched her with such a solemn expression. “I should have. It was very irresponsible of me not to have the helmet on. I got in a hurry and didn’t grab it and then didn’t want to go back and get it.” She grimaced. “I won’t make that mistake again. So—” she fingered the IV in her left arm “—when do I get to get out of here?”

“We’ll go tell the doctor you’re awake.” He took the boy’s hand. “Come on, buddy.”

But Will pulled his hand from his uncle’s and slid it into Paige’s. Shock darkened Dylan’s eyes, then they brightened and she thought she saw a flash of … hope?

“Will?”

But Will didn’t budge. Paige smiled around the sharp throb of the headache that had started to put in an appearance. “He’s fine. He can stay with me if he wants to.”

Uncertainty flickered on his face, then he shrugged. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Paige breathed in and took a moment to wonder if her cover was blown. Her boss wasn’t sitting in her hospital room, so that was a good thing. Her mother may have been contacted, but she wouldn’t show up. A pang of hurt zipped through her before she could throw up the barrier that normally kept those kinds of thoughts at bay.

She’d given up on a relationship with her mom at the young age of eighteen when she’d left home to find her way. After a rocky start, she’d finally landed at the police academy and worked her way into her current position.

An agent with the Drug Enforcement Agency. Based in Atlanta, Georgia, she was on call for the state of North Carolina, too.

Being away from home didn’t bother her. There really wasn’t anything for her to miss. Her best friend was her job.

But a tiny part of her admitted she was lonely.

The small hand in hers squeezed, reminding her that she wasn’t alone right now. A small shot of warmth coursed through her, and she squeezed back.

“So, Will, how old are you?”

He simply blinked.

“Hmm … don’t want to talk, huh? Well, that’s okay, I guess I’m still a bit of a stranger, aren’t I? Maybe you can just nod?”

The door opened before she could continue the one-sided conversation, and Will’s uncle entered, followed by the doctor and a nurse.

The dark-headed man smiled and said, “I’m Doctor Land. Glad to see you’re awake.” His chocolate eyes smiled at her.

“Thank you. So, when can I leave?”

“You had a pretty hard conk on the head.” He consulted her chart. “I think we need to keep you for the night, just for observation.”

Paige grimaced. “I have a job I need to get started on.”

He was already shaking his head before she finished the sentence. “No, ma’am. You’re in great shape physically, so the healing process should be pretty quick for you, but no working for a few days until we make sure there’s nothing else going on with your head. We went ahead and did a CAT scan, and everything look okay, but head wounds are tricky. You need to take care.”

“She will.”

At Dylan’s bold statement, Paige blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

He swallowed and flushed. “Sorry, I didn’t meant to sound like I had any right to tell you what to do, it’s just that—” he shuffled his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets “—I feel a little responsible and just want to … um … help. Will you let me?”

Unsure how to respond, Paige simply looked at him. She racked her brain for an appropriate response, but she couldn’t very well tell him the real reason she needed to get to the school and get started in her job as guidance counselor. “I … uh … sure. I guess.”

A smile finally crossed Will’s little lips, and his grip tightened once again. She hadn’t realized he still held her hand. He was so quiet. Not like other kids his age she’d been around. And she’d been around a lot during the training that taught her how to question children exposed to trauma.

“So, you want to take care of me, huh, Will?”

A nod so slight she thought she might have imagined it moved his head.

A sharp, indrawn breath from the boy’s uncle made her glance his way. Shock and joy stood out on his handsome face making her wonder what was going on.

“Hmm. Well, let me think about it and I’ll let you know.” She had to contact Charles and let him know that she was okay. He’d be chomping at the bit at the fact that she hadn’t checked in with him in over a day. She wondered how many voice messages he’d left on her phone.

The doctor flipped her chart closed. “There’s a whole army of reporters outside wanting to talk to you. Apparently, someone called the local news.”

For the first time since she’d awakened, a chill of fear shot through her. She couldn’t talk to reporters. Staying alive meant maintaining her cover and keeping her face out of the limelight.

If the wrong person found out what she was doing in the town of Rose Mountain, she would wind up as dead as her fellow agent and friend, Larry Bolin.

TWO

Dylan had been so focused on the fact that Will had responded to a question that he almost missed the flash of … what? … that crossed her face at the mention of the reporters. Fear? Consternation? Something.

“You don’t want to talk to the reporters?” he asked. “Everyone is saying what a hero you are.”

A flush crept up her neck causing her white cheeks to pinken. “I’m not a hero. So, please, tell them just to go away.”

He glanced at the doctor who shrugged and said, “Okay. I’ll tell security to handle it. Now, let me check you out.” He motioned for Dylan and Will to wait outside.

Dylan took Will’s hand, and the boy finally let go of Paige’s to follow him. Once outside the room, Dylan thought about the woman who’d saved Will’s life.

And her reaction to the idea of talking to reporters. Most women that he knew would love to be in the limelight, talk about how they’d saved a child. And even if they didn’t necessarily revel in the attention, they wouldn’t mind giving an interview.

But not Paige.

Interesting. Curious. It made him want to ask her about it, find out why she didn’t want to be in the spotlight.

The hair on the back of his neck tingled, and he looked up. Nobody in the hall looked like they had an interest in what he was doing. Still, he frowned. After the incident with the car, he was on edge.

He’d been stopped by several reporters since the accident but thought he’d given them enough of what they’d wanted. Another sweeping glance still didn’t reveal any reason he should feel watched.

Uneasy, he pasted a smile on his face and said to Will, “How about we go grab a little snack and then come back to see Ms. Worth?”

Will’s lips parted in a smile.

For the second time that day.

Dylan’s heart flipped. Ever since Will’s mother, Dylan’s sister, Sandra, had been killed in the fire that ripped through her house, Will had become mute, haunted by nightmares that woke him, that caused the little boy to scream until he was hoarse. And that was the only time he ever made a sound. Even when he cried, his tears were silent.

Dylan had shortened his hours at the medical clinic, working only during Will’s school time so he could be there to pick up the boy from school.

And Will always seemed glad to see him. But Dylan felt there was something he was missing, something he should be doing for Will. He just wished he could put his hands on what that something was.

Even the therapist Will had been going to seemed stumped at the child’s continued silence.

They walked into the cafeteria and Will went straight to the fruit section. Dylan got him a bowl of grapes and banana slices, and they found a table in the corner. Will picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of banana.

Surprise hit Dylan when he found himself wanting to hurry Will up so they could go back to check on Paige.

Swallowing hard, he examined what he was feeling. He wasn’t in a good place to be this attracted to someone. He had been engaged until very recently, but Dylan could finally admit that his and Erica’s relationship had died long ago even though the recent betrayal still hurt.

Pushing those thoughts away, Dylan felt a smile curve his lips. It might be fun to get to know Paige. To see what she was all about.

To hear her deepest secrets.

Then he frowned. Of course if he expected that of her, he’d have to be willing to reciprocate.

Then he flushed, embarrassed by his premature thoughts. He’d just met the woman. He knew nothing about her. For all he knew, she might have a boyfriend somewhere. Someone who lived in another state and just hadn’t come to be by her side.

The television caught his attention. The reporter was talking about Paige’s amazing rescue this morning. Captivated and horrified all at the same time, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman who stood in front of the school where it had all happened giving a detailed account of the near miss.

In his mind, he watched it all over again as her bike flashed in front of the car, her arm snaked out to grab Will and then the front headlight clipped her back wheel. And down she went.

He sucked in a lungful of air.

Not knowing where the sensation came from, he couldn’t help feeling his life was getting ready to be rocked by the strawberry blonde, blue-eyed woman lying on the bed upstairs.

As soon as the doctor stepped from the room, Paige grabbed the cell phone that had been placed on the table beside her. She punched in the number she’d memorized a long time ago.

Her boss answered on the second ring. “Ashworth,” Charles Forester almost growled, “where are you? Are you all right? I just talked to ‘your principal’ who said you were in the hospital. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine.” Well, she would be. “But we’ve got a problem. Reporters have already gotten wind of the story and are making a big deal out of it.”

Filling him in, she did her best to ignore the aching in her head compounded by his sudden bid for her to hold on.

She held.

A minute later, he said, “I’m back.”

“I should be out of here tomorrow and plan on getting back to the school as soon as possible.” She paused. “How’s Larry’s family doing?”

“Not good.” His voice lowered. “They need his killer brought to justice, Paige.”

“I’m working on it, but I need you to make sure that my face doesn’t appear on the news. If some hotshot reporter or photographer decides to make this his story, and someone recognizes me …”

A long pause.

“Charles?”

“I’m watching the reports now. Got Louis to pull it up and stream it to my computer as soon as you said something about reporters.” Louis, the DEA’s tech guy who could do anything with a computer. “Right now, the story’s only on the local channel. We’ll do our best to keep it that way.”

Paige blew out a sigh and shifted her head. “And you’re still against working with the sheriff on this one?”

“Definitely. He’s squeaky clean, but Larry’s dead, and the investigation of his death hasn’t produced much. Let’s keep this one close to our vest for now. If we need to bring the sheriff into it, we will. I’m still screening his deputies.”

Thoughtlessly, Paige nodded and grimaced at the shaft of pain that shot through her. Maybe she’d be out of commission a bit longer than she thought.

“All right, give me a couple of days, and I’ll see how I feel. One more thing, you’ll never guess who the little boy was.”

“Who?”

“Dylan Seabrook’s nephew, Will Price. Dylan was walking him to school when all this happened. Dylan always lets him cross to the guard who waits in the center of the street. He was almost to her when the car came flying down the street toward him.”

Charles scoffed in disbelief. “You’re kidding. Sandra Price’s son? The woman who was killed in the fire with Larry?”

“Yes.” She paused. “This accident may actually be a blessing in disguise. It gives me a way to get close to Dylan.”

A pause. “Are you sure it was an accident?”

She thought about it. “No, I’m not.”

“If the people who killed Larry and Sandra think Dr. Seabrook knows something, they may decide he needs to disappear—or cause his nephew to in order to keep him quiet.”

“I know.” The thought filled her with dread. “I need to find out if he’s had any threats made against him or Will.”

“That sounds like a good place to start. Listen, I know you haven’t had a chance to really work on the case yet, but given that you’ve been in the town for a couple of days, are you sure we’ve got you in the right place? The elementary school rather than the high school?”

“I think so, based on what Larry said about Sandra being friends with one of the parents who was arrested. Although she didn’t know the name of the person who supplied the drugs—or exactly how they were being transported through the school—she was pretty adamant that they were coming from the elementary school. The ID found in the fire is the biggest sign, of course.” A charred staff ID from Rose Mountain Elementary School had been found in the residue of the fire.

“And the drug dogs came up empty.” He sighed. “All right then. Keep in mind, we’ve also got a detective questioning those two parents who were arrested for possession.”

Paige pulled in a breath. “Great. As soon as I recover and do a little investigating, I’ll be in touch.”

“You’d better be.”

“Bye.”

“Oh, Ashworth.”

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat. “Good job on saving the kid.”

“Thanks, Charles.”

“And keep in mind, there are major storm and tornado watches going on in your area. I know tornados in the mountains are rare, but not unheard of. Keep up with the weather.”

“Will do.”

She hung up the phone and set it back on the table.

Her brain whirled. Where to start? She looked around the room. A small bouquet of flowers sat near the sink.

She had just now noticed them. A smile curved her lips. No doubt they were from Dylan and Will. Then she frowned. She didn’t need to be having any warm, fuzzy feelings for the brother of the woman she was here to look into.

A knock on the door made her jump. By reflex, her hand went for the weapon she normally carried in her shoulder holster. Only to come up empty.

Right. She hadn’t wanted to carry the gun into the school, so she’d left it locked in her gun box in the drawer of her nightstand. But she didn’t have any enemies here. She was simply a guidance counselor.

“Come in.”

The door opened once again and a man Paige knew to be her new boss stepped in. The principal of Rose Mountain Elementary.

She offered him a weak smile. “Hello, Dr. Bridges.” She’d met him briefly at the district office on the day of her interview two weeks ago. Only the superintendent of the school district, whose cooperation had been needed to secure Paige’s position at the school as the new guidance counselor, knew the real reason she was in Rose Mountain.

“Please. Call me Tom. How are you feeling?”

“Like I cracked my head open.”

He gave a laugh and, for the next few minutes, they continued the small talk. Then Tom asked, “Is there anyone I can call for you? A man named Charles answered the emergency number you listed on the application. Said he was your brother.”

“Right. Thank you for contacting him.” They’d agreed Charles would play the role of her brother if he ever needed to come see her during one of her undercover operations. Or if there was ever an emergency. Like this morning.

“Yes. He said to let him know if your condition worsened and he’d come.”

Charles had been giving her time to call him and let him know whether she needed help or not. “I appreciate you doing that.”

He stood. “Well, you take your time getting well. We’ll see you when the doctor says you can come to work.”

“Thank you.”

After he left, she closed her eyes. In her mind, she pictured the agent who’d been killed in the fire with his informant—and girlfriend. Paige frowned at that. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Larry’s choice, but he’d been struck by the woman the moment he’d met her in the teacher’s lounge of the high school.

The feeling had been mutual and Sandra Lee Price, Dylan’s sister, had agreed to help the DEA put away as many people as possible that were involved in the drug ring that was suspected to be originating out of Rose Mountain.

And now she was dead, along with Larry, an excellent agent and Paige’s good friend. She bit her lip to stem the tears.

Paige glanced at the door where Dylan and Will had disappeared a little while ago.

It was Paige’s job to find out exactly how much Dylan knew about his sister’s death. And if he was involved in any way.

THREE

Dylan dropped Will off at school—this time walking him all the way to his classroom door—and headed for the hospital. He’d had a restless sleep the night before, and it was all thanks to the pretty blonde woman on the fifth floor saving Will’s life over and over in his dreams. Her twisted bike waited in his garage.

Climbing out of his car, he loped to the front door and made his way upstairs.

The two ladies and one male nurse at the nurses’ station waved as he passed. Walking down the hall, he slowed when he spied someone hanging around Paige’s door. A relative? A friend?

A significant other?

Dylan was unsure whether to keep going or come back another time.

The guy hesitated, placed his hand on the doorknob, then pulled it back as though undecided whether he should enter the room or not. Dylan tried to get a look at his face, but the baseball cap shielded his features as he looked left, then right.

A funny feeling twisted inside Dylan. “Hey, can I help you?”

The man froze, ducked his head and started walking toward the exit. “No thanks, wrong room.”

Dylan watched him push open the door to the stairs and disappear.

His suspicions increased. Something about the guy made alarm bells go off. He walked quickly to the end of the hall and looked into the stairwell. No one was visible.

Shaking his head and telling himself the man may very well have had the wrong room, Dylan decided not to make a big deal out of it. Although, he had to admit, his instincts continued to shout that something wasn’t right.

Arriving at Paige’s door, he pushed away the uneasy feeling, took a deep breath and wiped his damp palms down the sides of his khaki slacks.

Why was he so nervous?

Because he was attracted to Paige. He wanted her to like him. For the first time since his fiancée’s desertion, he cared what a woman thought.

And he desperately wanted to keep her around to see her with Will again. She just might be the key to unlocking the boy’s self-imposed silence. A mixture of self-disgust and humor at his befuddled state of mind nearly had him laughing. But he sobered up and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

He entered to find Paige pulling a brush through her hair as gently as possible. The bandage that had been on the back of her head yesterday was gone. He gulped at the zing of attraction that rippled through him. He hadn’t just imagined her beauty. “At least they didn’t have to shave it.”

She gave a chuckle. “No. I think they were more worried about the effects of the bump than the small cut.”

He frowned. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m going home.” She wrinkled her nose. “And before you ask, yes, I feel up to it. I feel much better today than I did yesterday, that’s for sure. No dizziness, still a slight headache, but no blurred vision. The doctor said to take it easy for a few days. I’m not at a hundred percent yet, but—” she shrugged “—I’m getting there.” Changing the subject, she asked, “Where’s your sidekick?”

Dylan smiled. “He’s at school”

“No lasting side effects for him?”

“No. Not this time,” he murmured.

She dropped her arm, the brush clutched in her right hand. “This time?”

Had he said that out loud?

“Will’s mother, Sandra, was killed in a fire almost two months ago. He has nightmares about it from time to time. Last night was peaceful. I checked on him off and on all night, and he slept pretty well.”

Concern clouded her pretty eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear about his mother. How awful. What happened?”

Dylan set his jaw. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. For now, do you need a ride?”

She cocked her head at him. “I was going to take a cab.”

His smile reappeared. “All the way from Bryson City to Rose Mountain?”

She flushed. “Oh. How far away are we?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“I guess I’m more used to big-city living than small-town.”

“Which big city are you from?”

“Atlanta.”

A soft whistle escaped him. “Wow, you’re serious when you say big city, aren’t you? What brought you to our little mountain town?”

A frown furrowed her forehead. “Let’s just say I needed a change. The slower-paced lifestyle appeals to me.”

Well, that was good news. That might mean she planned on staying for a while. He lifted a brow. “So? You want a ride?”

“Um … sure. Let me just get my things.”

A knock sounded at the door and Dylan moved to pull it open. A large man decked out in green scrubs pushed a wheelchair. He flashed her a bright smile. “Your limo is ready.”

Paige frowned. “I don’t need a chair.”

“Hospital regulations, ma’am.”

Dylan watched the frown slide off to be replaced with resignation. “Fine.”

After she was settled, the three of them left the room. Dylan jogged ahead to get the car and pull it around.

Once Paige was in the passenger seat, Dylan asked, “Where am I going?”

She gave a little laugh—and winced.

He frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, now stop asking. I live on Mockingbird Lane in Knightsbridge Subdivision.”

He lifted a brow. “That’s not too far from where Will and I live.” A surge of elation slid through him at the idea of her living so close to him. Then he wondered why it mattered. But it did. The attraction he felt for her, the connection she seemed to have with Will—both excellent reasons for keeping her nearby.

“So, Dr. Seabrook, you didn’t have to see patients today?”

Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. Grabbing it from the clip on his side, he said, “Hello?”

“Where are you, Dylan?” Margaret, his secretary and friend from church. They’d dispensed with formalities when he’d hired her after her husband had died of a massive heart attack.

He frowned. “Taking a friend home from the hospital. What’s wrong?”

“I have a young man standing here who said you promised to meet him this morning to give him a reference letter.”

Dylan racked his brain—and found what he was looking for. “I totally forgot. I have it all ready. I just need to print and sign it. Tell him if he can give me about thirty minutes, I’ll be there.”

“You got it. See you then.”

He looked over at his passenger. “Is your head all right? Do you mind if we swing by my office when we get into town?”

She shrugged. “Fine with me.”

“I promised a reference letter for a very promising young man in my church. He wants to get into medical school, and I think he’d make an excellent doctor.”

Thirty-five minutes later, Dylan pulled into the parking lot and noticed one of his partners, Graham Bailey, hadn’t arrived yet. The man was going through a pretty messy divorce and his days seemed to start later and later. Henry Satterfield, his other partner, would field patients until Graham arrived. Dylan had already requested time off to be with Will, so no one expected him to be there.

Dylan entered the building with Paige right behind him. Margaret Rogers, his efficient as always, salt-and-pepper-haired secretary in her early sixties sat at her desk fielding calls. She pointed to the young man sitting in the waiting room.

Two women with toddlers chatted in the children’s corner. A teenager slumped on the couch, his hat pulled low over his eyes.

Dylan nodded and turned to speak when Margaret hung up the phone with more force than needed. He looked back at her. “What is it?”

“Doctor Bailey won’t be in today. He’s sick.” She kept her expression clear, her voice in a monotone, but he could see the disgust in her eyes.

“Okay, let me take care of this, then I’ll … figure something out about Graham.” He made quick introductions. “Paige, Margaret Rogers and Kyle Barrett. Margaret and Kyle, this is Paige.”

Kyle nodded. The women greeted each other while Dylan walked over to shake the man’s hand. “Give me a minute, Kyle. The letter is sitting on my computer, I just need to print it off and sign it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Kyle sat and Dylan made his way down the hall to his office.

Twisting the doorknob, he stepped inside and came to an abrupt halt.

In shock, he took in the mess that had been his spotless office less than twenty-four hours earlier.

The gasp behind him made him turn to see Paige staring over his shoulder. Then she looked up at him and raised a brow. “You either need to fire your cleaning crew or call the police.”

Even after the sheriff arrived, Kyle hovered in the background, eyes wide like saucers. “Looks like the tornado sirens should have sounded.”

While Paige watched the officer take notes on the scene, Margaret clucked like a mother hen, muttering under her breath. Paige listened to Dylan give a statement and clamped her teeth on her tongue. Itching to be a part of the investigation, she told herself to cool it. That wasn’t going to happen.

But she couldn’t help sidling up next to Dylan and asking, “Who would do this?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea. This is crazy.” He gestured to the uniformed man. “Paige, this is a good friend of mine, Sheriff Eli Brody.”

She nodded, then asked, “How did whoever did this get in?”

Eli shook his head. “We’re working on figuring that out.”

Margaret huffed. “Well, I’m usually the last to leave and I always set the alarm.”

Dylan smiled at her. “No one is questioning your competence.” He looked thoughtful and then shook his head.

Paige’s gaze went back to the office. The overturned chair, the dumped drawers. “It looks like someone was looking for something.”

“Sure does.”

Dylan shrugged. “But what? Drugs? Any junkie would know they’re not kept in an office.”

“The drug cabinet wasn’t touched as far as I can tell,” Margaret offered. “I just checked.”

Paige looked at Dylan. “Has anyone threatened you or Will?”

He blinked. “No. Why?”

Okay, that answered that question. “What about your prescription pads?”

Cocking his head, he looked at the sheriff. “Do you mind if I look?”

“I’ve already dusted the desk. Go ahead.”

Dylan walked behind the desk, inserted a small key into the top drawer and gave the handle a tug. Looking in, he shook his head. “Everything’s in order.”

The sheriff blew out a sigh. “All right.”

Paige’s eyes bounced back and forth between the men. Would no one say it? She bit her lip. Should she bring it up?

“You … uh … don’t suppose there’s a connection between the car trying to run Will down and this break-in, do you?”

Both men looked startled. “Why would you ask that?”

She gave a sheepish shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s just weird that both things happened so close to each other.”

Sheriff Brody looked thoughtful. His forehead wrinkled as he ran his hand through his thick dark hair. Intuitive green eyes examined his friend. “You got any enemies, Dylan?”

“No.” He gave a humorless laugh. “No way. I mean, who would do something so awful as to actually try to run Will down?” He looked sick. “That’s just … crazy.”

“Crazier things have been done,” Paige murmured.

He simply looked at her.

“Do you have any patients you’ve made mad recently?” the sheriff asked.

Dylan looked blindsided, she thought, even as she waited for his answer.

He gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t … know. Maybe.”

“Could be you were the intended target with that car. The person who almost ran down Will could have thought you were going to be crossing with him,” Paige said before she could bite her tongue.

Sheriff Brody crossed his arms across his broad chest and narrowed his eyes. “You have some law enforcement training?”

Paige gulped and chastised herself for making such a rookie mistake. She forced a laugh. “I watch a lot of television. Crime shows are my favorite.”

His eyebrows lowered and he glowered. She could read his thoughts. Great, another cop wannabe.

One day she’d tell him the truth. For now, she was going to shut up. Besides, her head was really starting to pound. Nausea swirled and she knew she needed to lie down. “Dylan, do you think you could take me home now?”

He started. “Sure.” Then looked at the sheriff. “Are you done with me?”

“Yeah.” The man waved a hand in dismissal. “Go on. I’ll let you know if we find anything here.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet Holly at the doctor’s office in Bryson City. We’re having our first ultrasound.” He looked extraordinarily pleased to share that information.

Paige smiled through her pain. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He peered closer at Paige then said to Dylan, “She’s not looking so great. You better get some meds in her before she passes out.”

Dylan turned and stopped fast enough to cause Paige to bump into him. Pain exploded through her. As it eased, with her nose buried in his back, she couldn’t help noticing his yummy-smelling cologne. She backed up in a hurry and swallowed hard.

He turned and smiled down at her. “Sorry.” Then he motioned for the young man who’d come to collect his reference letter. “I’m sorry, I can’t access my computer right now. I have a copy of it on my home computer. Is it all right if we try again later?”

“Sure. You’ve got my cell number. Just give me a shout when you want me to come pick it up.”

Dylan and Paige made their way out to his car. She slid in, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and new-car smell. The sun beat down, warming the interior of the car to an uncomfortable temperature. She lowered her window and he flipped on the air-conditioning. “Sorry to pull you away,” she told him. “My head is really hurting.”

“No problem. I wasn’t doing anyone any good just standing around watching them work.” He shot her a worried look. “Any nausea? Dizziness?”

“No, it’s just a headache.” The nausea had faded.

Red flashing lights jerked her attention to the side mirror. A fire truck approached, sirens screaming. Dylan’s face paled, and his hands clenched the wheel so tight his knuckles went white. He pulled to the side and let the truck fly past. For a moment, he just sat there, not moving.

She laid a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

He blinked. “Yeah.” His hoarse voice said otherwise. “Tell me how to find your house.”

She gave him the directions, then asked, “That fire truck really sparked some memories, didn’t it?”

“They always do. I can’t see one without …” He broke off and swallowed.

“Will you tell me more about the fire that killed Will’s mother?”

FOUR

Eyes on the road, Dylan blinked at the question, then supposed it was only natural that she ask. Still, it threw him. Then again, she seemed to have some sort of connection with Will, so maybe it wasn’t so odd she’d want to know more about the boy’s mother. He gathered his scattered nerves and said, “Sandra was my sister. She was a good mom. Most of the time.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Dylan.” She paused. “What do you mean most of the time?”

“She did drugs.” Blunt, straight to the point.

“Oh, my. Poor Will.”

“Yes. At first, it wasn’t like she was an out of control junkie. She was more recreational than anything, but …” He bit his lip.

“She ended up hooked?”

He drew in a deep breath. “In a big way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. Anyway, she had this new boyfriend that seemed to be making a big impact on her. Larry something. He was a math teacher out at the high school. Sandra did a lot of subbing at all three schools in town. But I remember her coming over one night and telling me about this great guy. And she was going to change her life. I only met Larry a few times.” A smile crossed his lips.

“What’s the smile for?”

He shook his head. “Just thinking about the two of them. I was really skeptical when she first told me about him. Figured he was just another drug source, but he wasn’t. I could tell he was clean the moment I met him, and he really did seem to care about Sandra. In fact, they reminded me of a couple of teenagers who’d just discovered true love.”

“True love?” She sounded skeptical.

Dylan eyed her from the corner of his eye then asked softly, “What? You don’t believe in true love?” He really didn’t have the right to ask, but he wanted to know. Even though his experience with Erica had cut deep, he still felt like God had the right person in mind for him.

He couldn’t help wondering if that person was Paige.

He could feel her embarrassment as she cleared her throat. “Maybe. For some people.”

“But not for you?”

A pause. “This isn’t about me,” she finally answered, sounding subdued. “So Sandra and Larry were in love?”

Making a mental note to come back to her feelings about love, he let her direct him back to the topic. “I don’t know, but Sandra finally seemed happy. Like she’d gotten rid of a few of her demons. Larry even got her going to church. And Will was crazy about the guy …” He sighed. “But I just … don’t know … It was hard for me to hope because … she was still Sandra, you know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

Dylan glanced at her. “You sound like you mean that. Is someone you love a drug addict?”

Paige flinched and he reached over to touch her shoulder. The warm zing that skittered up his arm surprised him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to find a painful subject. Are you okay?”

She placed a hand to her head. “Um, yes, just a headache. I’ll take one of those painkillers as soon as I get home and sleep for a couple of hours. That should do the trick.”

Dylan frowned at her but let that explanation work for now. He had a feeling she’d been going to say something else and had decided against it. He didn’t let it bother him. He usually wasn’t so open with people he’d only just met, but there was just something about Paige, something that made him want to explore the possibility of a relationship.

Plus, he had Will to think of. What if Will’s reaction to Paige was just a fluke? Then again, what if it wasn’t? Their connection seemed real.

He had to keep Paige around in order to find out. Of course, with the way he was attracted to her, it was obvious that wasn’t going to be a hardship. At least not for him.

He cut those thoughts off as she directed him to turn into the drive of a small, yet cozy-looking house with gray vinyl siding and green shutters. “Ah, you rented this from the Jacksons, didn’t you?”

“Yes. My … brother found it for me.”

“Well, I know they’re relieved to have it rented. They’ve had some serious financial difficulties since he was laid off six months ago. Rose Mountain is a great little town, but unfortunately, it doesn’t offer much in the way of employment unless you have a specialty.”

“Like medicine?”

He smiled. “Like medicine—or teaching. Or owning your own business.” He turned the engine off and started to climb out.

“You don’t have to get out. I can make it.”

He knew she could, but for some reason he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet. “Do you mind if I see you in? Make sure you have everything you need?”

She narrowed her eyes and he held his breath until she said, “Sure. Thanks.”

The joy that stirred in his heart didn’t shock him at this point, but it did make him remind himself to take it easy. His heart ignored the reminder and thumped faster.

He followed Paige up the steps to the covered porch. She slid the key in the lock and opened the door. “My garage door opener is in the car.” She froze. “My bike! I totally forgot to ask anyone about it.”

Dylan grimaced. “I’m afraid it was pronounced dead at the scene.” He flushed. “But I told Principal Bridges I would keep it at my house until you could decide what you wanted to do with it. The dump is probably the best place for it.”

She eyed him and he squirmed under her gaze. She asked, “It’s that bad?”

“Trust me. It’s that bad.”

She sighed. “Okay. I’ll come by and take a look at it when I’m feeling a little better.”

A bush rustled to her left and she shot a glance over her shoulder. Visions of the car speeding into the school crosswalk flashed momentarily, and she blinked.

Another rustle. An animal? A neighbor child playing hide-and-seek?

Dylan must have heard it, too, as he turned to look at the bush.

She tensed. Or something more sinister?

The bush shook and she heard—a sneeze?

She moved toward the sound. “Whoever you are, you better come out now, or I’m calling the police.”

Absolute stillness.

Paige narrowed her eyes. Was she being paranoid? Dylan walked up the steps of the porch and grabbed the broom she’d left next to the door.

Coming back down, he flipped it so the handle pointed toward the shrubbery.

Paige’s adrenaline rushed through her as he poked into the bush.

A grunt sounded. “Ouch! Stop!”

Tempted to run inside and grab her gun, she ignored the feeling. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone. “You have two seconds to show yourself or I’m calling the cops. I—”

“All right, all right.” The voice sounded frustrated. Then a head popped around the side of the bush. “Paige Worth?”

A young man in his mid-thirties with shaggy blond hair gradually revealed himself. He had a smile on his face that Paige immediately didn’t trust. He looked—oily was the word that popped into her head.

Dylan didn’t look like he was too happy to see the guy, either.

Paige narrowed her eyes and drilled him with a harsh glare. “Why are you hiding in my bushes?” she asked.

The trespasser rubbed his chin and studied her. She saw his eyes settle on the bandage around her head. “Aren’t you the one who saved the little boy yesterday?”

“Again, who are you and why were you in my bushes?” Paige responded without answering the question.

The man held out a hand. “I’m Simon Moore. A reporter for the Bryson City Journal.” Paige shook his hand and felt her insides cool.

His eyes zeroed in on Dylan, and Paige watched Dylan narrow his eyes at the man. “And you’re the doctor, right? The little boy’s dad?”

“Uncle,” Dylan replied.

A “gotcha” look appeared in the reporter’s eyes, and Paige grimaced at Dylan’s slip. He’d just confirmed that the reporter had the right people. “I’m sorry about the hiding thing. You didn’t want to talk in the hospital and I thought I could—”

“—convince me to talk to you by ambushing me outside my home?” Paige raised a brow in disbelief. The man didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed.

“Look,” Dylan said before Mr. Moore could open his mouth again. “She’s still not feeling well and needs to get inside and rest. Why don’t you come back another time?”

“Actually, don’t bother. There’s not a story here, all right? Please.” Paige softened her tone. “I have a headache and want to lie down. Feel free to report what happened, just leave me out of it.”

“Why?” A calculating look crossed his face as he assessed Paige, then Dylan. “Do you two have something to hide?”

Paige drew in a pained breath. “No, Mr. Moore, we don’t have anything to hide. Will is a little boy who needs a little less excitement in his life. I simply …” She trailed off. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You’re just going to write what you want.” She gave a snort of disgust. “Happy reporting.”

She stepped inside, and Dylan followed after one last look at the reporter who stood sideways, speaking into his little voice-activated recorder before stomping toward the car Dylan just now noticed parked two houses down.

Once inside, Dylan shut the door behind him. “He looks familiar.”

Her eyes drilled into his and he raised a brow. She asked, “Where have you seen him before?”

“I think he was the guy standing outside your hospital room earlier.”

“What guy?”

Dylan thought she looked pale, and he wondered if it was from the pain in her head or the thought of the reporter. She definitely hadn’t been interested in any media attention at the hospital. He couldn’t help it that a small part of him wondered if maybe she did have something to hide. His gut twisted at the thought. “When I came to see if you needed a ride earlier, there was someone standing outside your door. I asked him if I could help him and he said he had the wrong room.”

She stood perfectly still, thinking hard about something. Dylan wondered what was going on inside her head.

“What did he look like?”

Shaking his head, Dylan squinted as he thought. “I’m not sure. He had on jeans and a green polo shirt. A ball cap covered his head and face. I didn’t get a good look at him.”

Paige’s eyes met his and he could tell she was processing this information. “That guy had on jeans and a green polo shirt but no ball cap. I’m willing to bet that’s not a coincidence.”

Dylan shook his head. “He was probably hoping to catch you alone in the hospital to try and get a story out of you.” Shrugging, he gave her a smile. “Anyway, I’m relieved you’re not interested in doing the story for that reporter.”

“It’s no problem. I’m not into that kind of thing.”

“You’re right about Will. He has been through enough.

He doesn’t need all the excitement a story and pictures in the newspaper would bring.”

She smiled. “Then I’m glad I told him no.”

Dylan pulled his gaze from the beautiful woman in front of him, put the reporter out of his mind and glanced around. They were in the family room. A breakfast nook and kitchen lay to the left. “Nice place. You haven’t decorated much, but it’s a very functional, open layout.”

She laughed. “No, I haven’t gotten to the decorating part yet, and I just thought the layout was cute.”

“Well, that too, but real men don’t use the word cute in reference to a house.”

Another laugh, followed by a wince. “Don’t. It hurts to be amused right now.” She settled on the couch and leaned her head back.

“You need to be resting and can’t do that if you’re hurting. Where are the pain pills the doctor prescribed? I’ll get them for you.”

“In my purse, but I can get them.”

“You just stay put, I’ll take care of it.” He grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter where it had landed after her careless toss. Walking over to the couch, he handed it to her.

“Thank you, darling.”

He jerked at the familiar term then caught the teasing glint in her eyes and the impish smile on her lips. Another flush worked its way up his neck, and he shook his head as he realized how his actions had come across. “Sorry, I don’t mean to act so …”

“Husbandly?” The word hung between them, then Paige groaned. He noted her red cheeks as she opened the purse. She said, “Okay, I obviously have brain damage. Or am in desperate need of some sleep. I’m going to take some medicine and get some rest.” He watched her cover her embarrassment by rising from the couch, and heading for the kitchen. She kicked off her shoes in the middle of the room and gave them a halfhearted shove as though to move them out of the way.

Dylan heard her rummaging in the refrigerator and thought about that word.

Husbandly.

Pain kicked him in the heart. He’d almost been a husband. And then he’d gotten custody of Will. Erica, his fiancée, had decided she didn’t want a package deal and dumped him the day Will came to live with him. The day after the fire.

He focused on Paige. “Do you need any help? Anything to eat?”

She came to the door of the kitchen looking incredibly cute—he felt fine using that word in reference to her—with her bare feet, hair around her shoulders and not a touch of makeup on. He finally noticed her height. She was about five inches shorter than his own six foot two. She offered him a water bottle and he took it.

“No, thanks. I’m not hungry right now. I’ll get something when I wake up.” Popping a little white pill in her mouth, she took a swig from her bottle and motioned him into the den area. As she headed that way, she stepped on one of her shoes and almost tripped.

Moving fast, Dylan caught her by the upper arm and pulled her against him. Water sloshed from the bottle and caught him on the chin. Wide, green eyes blinked up at him. “Oops. I’m so sorry!” She glanced at her shoes. “That’ll teach me not to pick up after myself.” A warm hand reached up and wiped the water from his chin.

Dylan swallowed hard as he found himself entranced, speechless and very aware of the warmth of her. His gaze dropped to her lips and, for a brief second, he considered seeing what she would do if he kissed her.

She caught her breath and stepped back. His arms dropped. Then Paige wiggled her fingers at him and said, “I think you need a towel. I’m not doing much good.”

Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “I’m fine.” He wiped his chin on his shirt and smiled at the flush on her cheeks. So, these feelings catching him off guard weren’t one-sided. That was good to know.

Dylan walked toward the couch. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get out of your hair so you can rest?”

Lying down and closing her eyes sounded wonderful. She’d pushed herself too hard today and was feeling the effects of it. However, Paige was determined to get some answers first—and push away the delicious feeling of being in his arms. Not that it was surprising that she’d enjoyed being there considering her instant attraction to the man. What surprised her was the desire to get to know him better on a personal level, not just in conjunction with her job.

And because of that desire, she had to tread carefully. Find out what she could about the fire and his sister, before she could even admit she was interested in him.

She had about twenty minutes before the pain pill would kick in.

“In a few minutes. Please, sit.”

He did, watching her with that concerned look on his face that made her do things she hadn’t done in a really long time. Like giggle. Really, what was up with that?

Paige told herself to focus on what he had to tell her—not the fact that he was looking better and better every minute she spent in his presence. She still had to rule him out as a suspect for the fire that had killed her friend and fellow agent.

And his sister.

But his background check had come back clean. She was here simply checking up on him as a formality. The fact that he had acted to save her life after her collision with the car, the fact that he was straight-up honest with her about his sister’s drug use and the fact that he didn’t seem to have a deceptive bone in his body had her convinced he’d had nothing to do with the fire.

But she’d press on with a few more questions and confirm her beliefs. As much as she would like to go with her gut, she needed some hard evidence that said he was innocent of any wrongdoing. Paige hated this deception, the lying to him, the constant watching of her words around him. She shoved the feeling aside.

Deception was the nature of the career she’d chosen and she’d do it well.

“So …” she settled on the other end of the couch “… what happened that night? I’d ask how Will is handling it, but I guess that’s pretty obvious.”

Grief clouded his eyes and she felt a pang of guilt for poking around memories that weren’t that old and were obviously painful. But she had to.

It was her job and she needed to find Larry’s killer. But she couldn’t help offering, “I can see the pain in your eyes. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Biting her lip, she continued her role. “But I’m going to be working with Will at school. It might help me with him if I know some of the story.” She’d prefer the whole thing, but would take what she could get for now.

Pulling in a deep breath, Dylan rubbed a hand over his eyes and said, “Whatever Will saw scared him enough—

traumatized him enough—that he hasn’t said a word since.”

Paige winced. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” He looked down at his hands. “Sandra, my sister, and her boyfriend, Larry, were at home when the fire started. I don’t know why they couldn’t get out.” His words slowed. “At first, I thought Sandra must have been smoking something and it was her fault the fire started, but the autopsy report showed she was clean.”

“Wow, you said she was trying to get off the drugs. Looks like she was successful.”

He shrugged and looked up to meet her eyes. “Maybe. She’d gotten clean before and gone back to it, so …”

Moved by his pain, she reached over and clasped his hand in hers. “I really am sorry.”

“Anyway, I don’t know what Will saw or heard that night, but until he deals with it, he’s never going to get over it … or stop having nightmares.”

“Poor kid.”

“Yeah. Some nights are rough.”

“Where were you that night?”

He grimaced. “I was with a patient at the hospital almost all night in Bryson City. I didn’t find out about the fire until the next morning when the social worker brought Will to me.”

He was with a patient all night. Easy enough to confirm. Her heart warmed. Her instincts were right. He didn’t have anything to do with the fire. Her eyes grew heavy.

Paige reached over and squeezed his fingers. “I’m sorry, Dylan, I’m fading. Can we talk later?”

“Sure. I shouldn’t have stayed so long.”

She was glad he had. With a pang, she realized she didn’t want him to leave. But he sure couldn’t stay.

Then she couldn’t hold back the yawn that hit her. Her eyelids felt like they had weights attached.

Dylan gave a small smile and glanced at his watch. “You’d better get some rest. I’m going to check in with Eli and see if he’s made any headway on who trashed my office.”

Paige nodded, grateful that her head only protested with a mild squeak instead of the raging scream that had accompanied that movement more than once since she’d awakened in the hospital.

With one last, lingering look that she wasn’t sure how to interpret, Dylan rose and headed for the door. Paige waited at the window until he got in his car and drove off. Then she made her way back to the couch. Light-headedness hit her, and she collapsed onto the cushions.

Grabbing the light blue blanket she kept thrown over the back of the couch, she pulled it over her and let her eyes drift shut.

Her last coherent thought was that she was more certain than ever that Dylan didn’t have anything to do with the fire that had killed Larry and Dylan’s sister. And that was a good thing because for the first time in her career, her heart was getting way too involved.

Thud!

Paige jerked awake. Heart thumping, blood humming in her veins, she sat up.

The first thing she noticed was the lack of pain in her head.

The second thing that caught her attention was the fact that she’d apparently slept all day because the sun was going down just outside the window behind the couch.

The third thing made her freeze, all senses on high alert.

Someone was in her house.

Her drug-induced haze had evaporated with the sudden rush of adrenaline. She needed her gun.

But it was in her bedroom in the end table in the gun box.

Making a mental note to keep it with her from now on, she slid off the couch and her bare feet hit the carpet. Her left hand grabbed the cordless handset from the end table.

She might need it.

Paige’s eyes scanned the open room, registering each detail. The family room blended into the kitchen separated by the large countertop. The breakfast area looked undisturbed. That left the two bedrooms.

One of which contained her gun.

Throat dry, breathing controlled into shallow breaths, thoughts slid through her mind as she crept on quiet feet toward her bedroom. Who would be in her house? And why? Had her cover been blown? If so, how? And where had the sound come from?

The laundry room? The only way to access that was through the breakfast area.

She just wasn’t sure. And she didn’t want a confrontation without her weapon. Physically, she didn’t think she could handle it. Not today.

Pulse pounding doubletime, all senses tuned for another noise that didn’t belong, she used the moonlight filtering through her still open blinds to guide her.

Paige passed the kitchen and paused at the door that led to the hallway. Cautiously, she peered around the edge, thankful she’d left the small night-light burning.

Nothing.

Pulling in another breath, fingers clutched around the cordless handset, she slipped through the door and into the hallway. To the right was the guest bedroom. The left, hers.

She turned left.

Stomach swirling, Paige slid the few steps to the door and again, peered inside from around the edge of the frame.

No one. Her stomach relaxed a fraction.

Moving quickly, yet still doing her best to stay quiet, she set the phone on the end table then pulled the drawer open. Inside lay the box sheltering her weapon. Paige punched in the code and the door opened with a soft pop. Curling her fingers around the butt of the gun, she flipped the safety off.

The hair on the back of her neck bristled and she spun, eyes probing the shadows of her room.

And still nothing stood out to her. Her heart pounded, adrenaline rushed. The bathroom door stood open and she could see inside. The shower curtain was still open, slid to one side, just the way she’d left it. A glance in the mirror above the sink showed no one hovering behind the door.

And yet …

Shivers danced up her spine as she assessed the window. The closed curtains looked untouched, pulled together, also just like she’d left them.

But the bottom of one fluttered.

Paige chilled. She hadn’t opened that window.

But there was no place to hide, except …

Her eyes dropped to the bed.

A hand shot out, clamped around her left ankle and jerked.

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