Man of Her Dreams by Debra Webb (best smutty novels txt) 📗

taken a self-defense class or weapons training. Her life had been nothing at all like his.

How could she have grown up in such a different world, the bond between them severed by geography and culture, and still draw him this way? He knew with certainty that Center had miscalculated the strength of the connection. He recognized that he was too close, but he refused to allow the possibility of another Enforcer being sent to replace him. His objectivity might not be fully intact but he would not lose sight of the mission.

“Oh, my gosh, it’s getting late.”

Aidan followed her gaze to the wall of windows that faced west. The sun had dropped low in the sky. Five or five-thirty already. It would be dark soon. In an hour, perhaps.

“I’ll help you put the albums away.” They both reached for the one they’d just looked at. Their hands touched and warmth spread through him. Now was not the time to pick up where they’d left off so early this morning, but he was very tempted.

She looked away from his steady gaze and hurriedly gathered an armful of the albums. He picked up the rest and followed her back to her father’s study.

When the last album had been replaced, she said, “I need to get something from my old room. I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t wait for a response but she got one anyway. “I’ll come with you.”

She glanced over her shoulder without slowing. “As long as you don’t give me any grief over the color scheme.”

He climbed the staircase a few steps behind her, enjoying the view more than he should. He felt certain she would not be amused if she were to see his thoughts at the moment. Every muscle in his body had gone rigid with desire. Willpower had never been an issue for him. He could go for days without sleep or nourishment. But he was not at all sure how long he would last without sharing complete physical intimacy with her.

Turning to walk backward along the upstairs hall, she warned as she neared what must be the door to her room, “Don’t say a word.” Then she swung back toward her destination, her long hair swirling around her, and disappeared through the open door.

He laughed when he stood in the middle of her room. White wicker furniture and tie-dyed curtains and linens. Posters of rock stars or maybe movie stars lined the walls. It was definitely different from what he’d expected.

“I warned you,” she said from inside the closet.

“You warned me not to say a word. You didn’t say I couldn’t laugh,” he corrected as he went to the bureau and studied the framed photographs of her with some of the same friends he’d seen in photographs downstairs. She smiled a lot. He liked her smile.

“I’m ready.” She tugged her hair loose from the button-up sweater she’d pulled on. “I’d almost forgotten this old sweater until I saw it in some of the pictures.” She hugged the sides around her. “It’s my lucky sweater.”

Her lucky sweater lacked any real appeal. Bland gray and rather shapeless, the material looked to be wool or something like it. A couple of buttons were missing. He had to admit he’d never seen a lucky sweater; maybe they all looked like that.

“Let’s go,” she said, clearly pleased with her rediscovered treasure. “I have calls to make.”

She took his hand and led him from the room.

“I’m going to call my dad’s attorney and see if he remembers anything about the adoption.” She looked up at him as they descended the stairs. “Surely he wouldn’t have a problem sharing whatever he knows with me now.”

Aidan pushed the corners of his mouth into a facsimile of a smile. “Good idea.”

He didn’t see the point in bursting her bubble. Her father’s attorney would know nothing. According to her file at Center, her adoption had been handled personally by Director O’Riley through one of Center’s attorneys. It would take two lifetimes to wade through the red tape the attorney had wrapped around the case. That transaction would never be traced back to Center.

Darby waved at the policemen as she settled into the passenger seat of the car Center had arranged for him to use. The officers looked ready for a shift change. According to Aidan’s calculations, that would likely occur as soon as they arrived back at her apartment.

Darby relaxed into the leather seat and hugged her sweater more tightly around her. She stole a peek at her chauffeur and smiled. He was so cool. Nothing seemed to faze him, not even this ungodly sweater. He just went with the flow. Whatever she wanted was fine by him. She decided it had to be part of his job. No real guy would have fun flipping through old family photos all afternoon on a beautiful day like today. She suddenly wondered if he golfed or played racquetball. No. He didn’t look like the type. If he participated in any sports, it would be something brutal like hockey or soccer.

She really liked that polished yet tough exterior.

As they neared the Intercoastal Waterway Bridge, pain abruptly seared through her brain. She sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed her eyes shut against the intensity of it.

“What’s wrong?”

Dark. Water. She could smell the swamp.

“Darby.”

Trees dripping with moss.

She gripped the armrests and panted to fight the building pain.

Voices. Too indistinct to comprehend.

Then it was gone.

The episode left her fighting for breath, her heart pumping fiercely.

“Tell me what just happened.”

She held up a hand in hopes he would give her a minute to work past her body’s automatic responses to the fierce pain.

Another slash of light momentarily blinded her.

Voices.

Clearer this time…louder.

The children.

Crying out to her.

She blinked to focus and dragged in another gulp of air. “Aidan…I…”

Come back.

Come back, please come back.

“We have to go back…”

“Back where?” He glanced from the road to her.

Only when he spoke did she realize she’d said the words out loud.

“There’s…something I need to do.”

The police cruiser followed close