The Departed

you?”
    “Rarely,” he said.
    And about her?
    Never. He’d been to her house one other time, four years before. That time, her particular skills had been needed on a job and since he had been driving in her direction, he’d decided he would pick her up. It would save time.
    Yes, all in the name of expediency.
    With everybody else, yes.
    Refusing to look at her, he climbed out of the car and grabbed her things from the trunk before she had the chance. Although she was supposed to be resting, taking it easy, he knew Desiree Lincoln. Rest wasn’t in her vocabulary.
    “Who is coming to stay with you?” he asked as he headed toward the front door.
    “I don’t need anybody staying with me.”
    “Who?”
    She blew out a breath. “I asked a friend I know—outside the bureau. Julie’s a nurse but she can’t be here for a few hours. And you do realize, don’t you, I’m not exactly on the clock and if I don’t want a babysitter, you can’t make me have one. You bullied me into staying in the hospital a few extra days, but you can’t bully me into having a babysitter.”
    He reached the porch and turned to face her. Eyeing the bandage, so stark and white against her flesh, he let his gaze linger there for a pointed moment before looking back into her eyes. “If I do not have your word you’ll have somebody with you for the next twenty-four hours, then I will be here watching you for the next twenty-four hours.”
    “That’s gonna be boring. Did you bring any popcorn?”
    Then she shouldered past him and dealt with the locks. He came inside and shut the door behind him while she reset the security system, trying not to think about her smart-ass reply. Why was it that when 99 percent of his people would tell him to kiss their ass, Dez issued a statement like Did you bring any popcorn ?
    If she would just work to keep him at arm’s length, the way everybody else did, maybe it would be easier not to be so obsessed with her. So desperate for a touch, a taste…a night.
    A lifetime, even.
    Stop it.
    She glanced over her shoulder at him and said, “Julie won’t be here until after her shift at the clinic is over. So if you’re really determined that I’m not to be alone, either you call me another babysitter or you make yourself at home.”
    Then she sauntered off into the depths of the house.
    He found himself watching the way her ass swayed back and forth and wishing, really wishing, he had the strength to call her another “babysitter,” as she called it. But he also knew there was no way in hell he was going to miss out on spending a little bit of time with her. Away from work. Out of that damned hospital.
    Here. In her home. Where he could assure himself she was safe, alive.
    Whole.
    * * *
     
    STARING into the refrigerator, Dez found herself contemplating the bottle of wine. It was too damn early, she knew. Plus, she was still a little off-kilter from the pain meds and she knew she’d be popping another shortly.
    But still. Every once in a while, liquid courage did help things a bit and she needed something to help loosen her tongue because she couldn’t seem to figure out the right way to go and talk to Taylor and tell him something very, very simple.
    Thanks for saving my life .
    “Are you hungry?”
    She jumped, startled. Turning around, she stared at him and then she gaped, a little dismayed at the sight of him. He’d taken his jacket off. He’d loosened his tie.
    Hell—it was almost like he was… naked . At least for Taylor Jones. Those suits of his were like armor, she’d always thought.
    “Are you okay?”
    Jerking her eyes away from his chest, she stared at him and stammered out…something. She didn’t know what.
    “Maybe you should sit down. You look flushed.”
    No, I look hot. As in turned on , she thought irritably. All because my fricking boss undid the top two buttons on his pristine white dress shirt and loosened that damn tie.
    And the jacket. Mustn’t forget the jacket he’d taken off.
    Swallowing, she turned around and grabbed a can of Diet Coke from the fridge. Over her shoulder, she said, “I’m just thirsty. Tired. Nobody ever gets any rest in a hospital, you ever noticed that?”
    “I’ve never had to stay in one,” he said. “But plenty of my people have.”
    There was a weight in his voice.
    Slowly, she turned and studied him.
    That heavy, strange weight she’d heard in his voice was echoed in his eyes, she realized. It didn’t show in his face—no,