Ill Take Forever

realized she hadn't forgotten one detail about him. It wasn't fair that rogues and crooks should be handsome. They should be as ugly as their deeds.
    Frustrated that he wouldn't take no for an answer, she shook her head firmly. 'No, you can't stay!'
    Slowly he struggled to his feet, pale and unsteady. Jenny bit her lip, longing to reach out to help him. She remembered him as strong, large, and very virile. What had happened to him? Why was his arm in a sling?
    'Were you in a gun fight?' she asked, suspiciously.
    'Yeah. I'm going to make it, though.' He drew out his wallet, flipped it open and held it out to her. 'Read it. The joke’s gone far enough. I need to lie down and you won't let me in until you know. I'm the DEA agent Brownley sent.'

CHAPTER FOUR

    Jenny was astonished!
    'You're a government agent? A law enforcement officer?' Her surprise reflected in the disbelief of her voice. 'I don't believe it!'
    Kyle smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way she had remembered so many times. His skin was pale, however, without the healthy tan he’d had last March. There were new lines around his eyes and mouth. He looked haggard and ill.
    'That's me. Check out the ID. Then can we go in? I haven't been out of the hospital long, and the ride up was tiring.'
    She looked at him suspiciously again. 'Let me see that ID.' She studied it carefully. It was very like the one Stuart Brownley had shown her. Slowly she handed it back.
    'Since when does the US government condone tricking its citizens, condone breaking and entering and...'
    'Jenny, have a heart, I'm about all in. Can we go into this later?' Kyle leaned against the wall, his skin whiter than ever.
    Jenny stepped by him to unlock the door and open it. 'Stalling for answers?' she asked.
    He made no response, reaching for his duffel bag.
    'I'll bring your things, you do look all in,' Jenny said in concern. 'I made up the guest room for you—for the agent, that is. It's upstairs in the back of the house. Can you handle the stairs?'
    'I know the way,' he murmured audaciously as he entered the house. ‘And yes, I can manage the stairs.’
    Leading the way, Kyle headed straight for the bedroom in question, Jenny close behind with his duffel bag and laptop.
    'God, I'm so tired.' Kyle sank down on the edge of the bed.
    'Lie back and rest, then,' Jenny said practically. 'I'll you something to drink.'
    ‘Thanks, that sounds good.’
    When she returned with the water, he was already asleep. Gently putting the glass on the dresser, she turned to watch him, see how he looked, curiosity about his injury rising by the moment. Time enough to ask about that later, though, along with a few other things! He must be exhausted to fall asleep so quickly.
    As she worked during the afternoon, an ear cocked in case he awoke, a slow anger began. If he was a DEA agent he should have told her last winter. Or any time in the months between then and now.
    When she finished work for the day, there was still no sound from upstairs. She wavered between anger and compassion. Had he really been in a gunfight? He looked totally wiped out when he’d reached the bedroom. But it was hard to believe anything given their history.
    Knowing she would be cooking for two, Jenny had stocked up on her last grocery shopping trip. Now, as she warmed the green beans for dinner, anger seemed to flare again.
    How dared he not identify himself last winter? He had known she was scared, and one flick of his ID badge would have cleared everything up. And how dared he tease her today? If he were an agent, and his identification looked like Mr. Brownley's, then he should have made himself known to her instantly on both occasions. Especially last winter. There would have been no need to break into her house. He could have identified himself, and she would have let him in.
    A sudden thought came to her–had he suspected her of dealing in marijuana?
    Impossible. He probably got off on keeping things mysterious. He likely thought it hilarious that she didn't know he was the agent Brownley was sending. She was surprised he hadn't broken in the window again; he'd had no compunction last winter. He probably thought it amusing to use her home as his base. Why hadn't she had any suspicions that he was the same man?
    Because he had never identified himself and she’d thought he was a crook.
    By the time the meal was ready, Jenny still hadn’t heard a sound from upstairs. Should she call him to come to