Noelle's gut twisted in indignation. How dare he accuse her of being a junkie when she'd never touched the stuff in her life? "I don't do drugs, not that it's any of your business."

He put the light away but blocked her exit so she couldn't turn away in a huff the way she wanted. "Everything about you is my business. I've been assigned to keep you alive, so you won't so much as blink without me knowing about it."

"Assigned? By whom?"

His lips pressed together into a thin, silent line.

"I see. So you get to know everything about me, but I don't even get to know who sent you?"

He nodded once. "You got it."

"You must be military. No one else would be that full of themselves with the whole secret mission thing." She tried to push past him but it was like trying to swat a redwood out of her way.

"We need to get moving now that you're up," he said as he turned away from her, ignoring her implied question.

"Where are we going? No wait, let me guess. You could tell me but then you'd have to kill me, right?"

One corner of his mouth actually twitched with a smile. "Now you're getting it."

Noelle sighed. She wasn't getting anything out of him. Maybe he was taking her to his superiors, where she would at least be able to ask some questions. She knew that he was here to protect her and that someone had tried to kill her for the work she'd been asked to do for the government. She also knew that as soon as she got to talk to someone with enough rank to make an independent decision, they'd get this whole mess straightened out and she could be back to her old life by Monday.

Not that her old life had much to offer with a ton of freshman homework to grade and the reward for her dedication being a pink slip at the end of the year. But hey, at least it was her life. Her choices. Her pink slip. That's what really mattered.

Noelle washed her mouth out at the sink, trying to rid it of the essence of decaying stuffed animals. From the corner of her eye, she saw David hold out a tiny tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush wrapped in plastic.

Hallelujah!

"We can grab something to eat on the road, but we need to get moving. When you're done there, let's get you geared up."

Noelle raised a questioning eyebrow at him in the mirror. "What gear?"

"Vest, tracking device, a small handgun if you'll carry one."

"Not likely."

"Didn't think so."

Noelle made quick work of her teeth and pocketed the toothbrush for later use. She didn't even have her purse with her. No money, no ID, no nothing.

Except her laptop. David had taken that and only that from her house.

The sleeve of her loose KU sweatshirt was stained with blood and something oily. The darts hadn't left much of a hole, but the blood was going to be pretty noticeable against the pale gray material. Noelle slipped it off, straightening the two T-shirts she wore beneath. Normally, she only wore one, but her house was cold, and every time she wore a jacket, the loose sleeves would send her stacks of papers careening onto the floor.

David watched her as she scrubbed the bloody spot with a tiny bar of soap at the sink.

"Does your arm hurt?" he asked, as if he just now remembered that people could feel pain. He was obviously a real tough guy.

It did hurt, but Noelle didn't like him knowing she was at a disadvantage. "It's fine."

"You're a pitiful liar." He dug in a black canvas duffel bag and pulled out a small first-aid kit.

"Yeah, well it comes from not making a living by it, Mr. Mysterious."

He grunted again and took the bar of soap from her hand. He lathered up a washcloth and cleaned the small holes with a delicate touch for a man of his size who apparently didn't feel pain.

The long, tanned fingers of one hand held her in place while he worked. They were a stark contrast to the milk-pale skin that came along as a package deal with Noelle's natural red hair and scattered freckles. His fingers wrapped all the way around her arm, making her look almost childish in comparison.

His eyes slid to where he held her. She knew that he couldn't help but notice that she looked like a scrawny kid.

She always had. It hadn't bothered her for a long time. Until now.

Now, she wanted to be beautiful and glamorous with boobs out to here and legs up to her neck. That was doubtless the kind of woman that David liked. As far as she could tell, all men did:

"You're smaller than you looked in the surveillance photos " he said in a low, deep voice—the kind he might use to calm a child.

The idea that she'd been covertly photographed was an unpleasant violation of her privacy, but she decided that it was best just to let that comment pass without complaint. She had more important things to spend her strength on.

"Yeah, well, I like loose clothes. They're more comfortable."

"How many shirts are you wearing, anyway?"

She looked down, wanting to cover her small breasts with her arms. They were just two more things that added to the total immature look of her body. Of course, the bold letters across her chest reading "I left the house for this?"

didn't help her mature image much.

Noelle looked away, wishing she were anyone but herself. She was smart and kind and generally liked who she had become. It was stupid and completely insane that her body image would bother her at a time like this, but it did. And that pissed her off.

"I'm wearing two," she snapped. "And before you ask, I'm wearing two pairs of pants as well—jeans over leggings.

But only one bra and pair of panties and pair of socks—all one hundred percent cotton, since polyester makes me itch.

I think that about covers my wardrobe. We already covered my drug habit and medical record. Is there anything else of a personal nature that you'd like to ask me?"

He just stared at her, his jaw tight, his hand still around her arm. She didn't think he was going to say anything, that he was just going to do that military silence thing, but then he asked, "You got a boyfriend?"

David wanted to slam his head into the wall for being so stupid. You got a boyfriend? What the hell was he thinking?

He had no business caring whether or not she was involved with another man—or woman. It didn't even matter.

Whoever her boyfriend might be, she wasn't ever going to see him again, so how could it matter?

But it did matter. And that pissed him off.

David finished bandaging her arm, refusing to notice how soft her skin was against the calluses of his fingers, how wonderfully pale her body was next to the dark tan of his hand, how fragile the delicate bones of her arm were compared to the thick column of his arm. She was completely feminine and fragile, and it made every primal protective urge in his body stand up and roar.

She was on a hit list. He couldn't forget that. He was here to protect her, not ogle her.

He wasn't going to let her die because he was too busy thinking with his dick.

So, instead of stripping off those oversized shirts to see if the rest of her body turned him on as much as her freaking arm, he turned his back and checked out the motel window while she stripped down to one shirt and fastened the Kevlar vest around her.

"I don't think this is going to fit," she said from behind him.

David cursed his luck and went to help. She was right, the vest was too big, and even when pulled tight, the adjustable fastenings were too long to make the vest snug. If she fell, the heavy material would slide around and do nothing to protect her vitals.

David swallowed a curse and undid the vest. "Put all your clothes back on and put the vest over it."

"Isn't it going to be a little suspicious for me to walk around showing off my fashionable Kevlar vest? I don't have a jacket to cover it up unless you brought one of mine from the house."

David was already stripping out of his vest and long-sleeved shirt. He pulled on a short-sleeved T-shirt from his duffel and handed her the black thermal undershirt he'd been wearing. "We'll put this over the vest to kSbp you warm and hide everything until we can get you a smaller vest."

David helped her fasten the straps, which fit better over the bulk of the three shirts she was wearing. His black shirt covered her completely. Only someone who was looking closely would know she was wearing a vest. David wasn't going to let anyone get that close.

The long sleeves hung over her hands, and she rolled them up. Even so, his shirt was way too big, swallowing her up and making her look vulnerable.

David told himself that it was okay for her to look vulnerable. She was.

They didn't need to have David get distracted by a hard-on that arose from something as simple as seeing her in his clothes. It was juvenile and stupid that something like that could turn him on.

He was clearly losing it.

"How do I look?" she asked, her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

Like his demented wet dream.

"It'll do," he said.

CHAPTER FIVE

Noelle leaned against the inside of the passenger door, watching the flat countryside slide by. The sun had just broken the horizon, and the sky was washed with pale yellow and rose. The Buick's tires hummed over the interstate pavement with nothing to break the monotony of the noise.

David was still wearing his vest and guns, but he'd covered the whole affair with a loose windbreaker that hid everything beneath it. Including the fact that he was completely ripped.

Noelle had watched him in the hotel room as he'd stripped off his shirt for her to wear. No longer groggy, she had been able to truly appreciate just how fine a body he had. The muscles in his chest and abs were an artist's dream, all defined and shadowed by a dusting of dark hair. Each movement was graceful as he'd checked his guns and gear. He wasn't bulging with muscle, but those he had were plentiful and slid fluidly against each other beneath his skin, bunching and flexing in hypnotic masculinity.

By the time they'd left the hotel, Noelle was shaking. She told herself it was just from low blood sugar, but she knew it was something more. Something girly and ridiculous and... exciting.

It was ludicrous. She didn't even know the man. She had no idea if he was married, though he did wear some sort of ring on a chain around his neck. Heck, she didn't even know if he was straight.

"How much longer until we get to this mysterious destination?" she asked, to distract herself.

He glanced at the dashboard clock. It was just after 6 A.M. "Before lunch. Which reminds me, what time did you eat dinner last night? I was thinking that might have been the reason the drug hit you so hard."

"I forgot to eat dinner," she said, looking out the side window.

"Forgot. Okay. When was lunch?"

"Yeah, well I kinda missed that, too. I was teaching a class, then I got this e-mail with these ancient Russian images on them, then Joan came by...."

David let out a sigh. "Breakfast?"

'T m not really much of a breakfast person."

"You are today," he said as he took the next exit toward a McDonald's. "So, you'd gone the entire day without food.

It's a wonder you're not still asleep."

"I've spent a lot of nights working instead of sleeping. Resisting the urge to crash is just one of those things that comes along with an academic career. I like to think of it as a fringe benefit."

He pulled into the parking lot and headed for the drive-thru. "What do you want?"