Agent Undercover. Lynette Eason
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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