Joan Johnston - A Little Time In Texas

Angel eyed the doctor’s black bag anxiously. She had never had much use for doctors. She tensed as he pulled a small object out of the bag. He pushed a button and the contraption in his hand lit up. She sat up abruptly. “What’s that?”

Adam looked at her and then at Dallas before he answered. “A sort of flashlight, so I can see into your eyes.”

“What’s a flashlight?” Angel demanded suspiciously.

Dallas saw in Adam’s expression the concern about Angel that he had been feeling himself for the past several hours. He listened as Adam calmly explained the inner mechanism of a flashlight, down to how a battery worked, and found himself chagrined to be learning along with Angel. All the time Adam talked, the doctor slowly but thoroughly examined his patient.

Angel was relieved when the doctor took an ordinary stethoscope from his bag, but became concerned again when he withdrew what he said was a blood-pressure cuff. He was straightforward in his explanations of everything he did before he did it, answering her questions as though they weren’t at all unusual. Though his instruments frightened her, nothing he did in his examination hurt her. He cleaned her skinned knee using something from a unique spraying can, then covered it with gauze and tape.

When Adam had finished with his medical examination, he stood up and walked over to talk privately with Dallas. “The skinned knee is superficial. As far as I can tell, the bump on her head is just that—a bump. There’s no sign of concussion. Or anything else I can find to explain why she doesn’t seem to recognize some very ordinary objects when they’re presented to her. That is why you called me, isn’t it? There’s something wrong with her memory. Some kind of selective amnesia?”

“Not exactly,” Dallas hedged.

“If that’s all you’re going to say, I can’t be any more help to you.” Adam headed for the door, medical bag in hand.

Dallas caught up to his friend on the porch. “I can’t tell you any more right now.”

“Fine,” Adam said and kept walking.

Dallas let Adam get into his car before he finally came striding after him. He leaned down so he could see in the window of the low-slung sports car. “Do you think Angel is crazy?” he blurted.

“What do you mean? Clinically nuts?”

Dallas nodded curtly.

Adam brushed his thumbs across the black leather cover on the steering wheel. “That’s hard to say without a psychological examination. Do you think she’s crazy?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“To tell you the truth, I was more than a little surprised to find a woman—any woman—in your house. I didn’t think you brought them here.”

“I don’t,” Dallas said flatly. “Angel is different.”

“Where did you find her?”

“I rescued her from some cowboys who were giving her a hard time.”

“At least that’s in character for you. Look,” Adam offered, “I can set up an appointment for Angel with a psychiatrist, if you like.”

“Not right now,” Dallas said. “Maybe later.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“I’ll explain everything later,” Dallas promised. He stroked the sleek finish of the sports car. “Don’t fall into any potholes with this baby car of yours on the way out.”

Adam grinned. “You’re just jealous. Call me if you need me.”

“Sure.”

Dallas stood and watched until the dust settled, before he turned and walked back into the house. Angel was no longer lying on the sofa where he’d left her.

“Angel? Where are you?”

There was no response.

Dallas quickly began a search of the house, going from room to room, slamming open doors, checking into closets and finding nothing.

At last he approached the bathroom and shoved open the door. There she stood, staring at him with startled blue eyes.

His breath caught in his chest. His heart skipped a beat. His mouth suddenly went dry.

She was wearing a different sort of underwear. The camisole top had been loosened where it laced up the front, and he could see the creamy swell of her breasts through the white laces. He watched a bead of water slide down her skin and dampen the cotton.

Below the waist she was wearing some kind of loose knee-length pants that were strictly puritanical. She quickly crossed one arm over her breasts and the other over the delta between her thighs. But it was far too late to keep his imagination from running wild.

“Why didn’t you answer me?” he rasped.

“I didn’t hear you. The water was running. I just wanted—needed—to rinse off some of the dust.”

“Go ahead,” he said. But instead of leaving, he stood there, staring at her.

Angel had seen that kind of hunger in a man’s eyes in the past, but never before had she felt compelled to appease it. She wasn’t sure exactly what was happening to her. It was as though she were caught in another kind of time warp, one where each moment was held suspended, giving her the time to identify each and every thrilling sensation as it occurred. And equal time to become aware of Dallas’s avid response to her slow but steady arousal.

Her breasts felt full and achy.

His eyes lowered and his gaze caused her nipples to harden.

Her mouth felt dry. It was hard to swallow.

His lips parted slightly, to ease breathing that had become harsh to the ear.

She pressed her thighs together, to hold on to the warmth and wetness that had mysteriously appeared between her legs.

His nostrils flared for the scent of her. A muscle worked in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.

She felt her body arching toward him, thrusting breasts and hips forward in a way that begged him to touch.

His lids lowered over lambent eyes. His body tensed, muscles tautening with barely restrained need.

Dallas was a man who appreciated beautiful women. But never had he wanted a woman as much as he wanted Angel. His hand reached out and cupped her breast, and he had the satisfaction of hearing a groan of pleasure deep in her throat.

His thumb brushed across her nipple, creating a vivid peak beneath the cloth. “I can’t believe this is really happening,” he murmured. “What force of nature brought you here?”

Angel came to her senses and took a step back. When Dallas started to reach for her again she warned, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’ve had to defend myself from forward men once or twice in the past. You wouldn’t escape unscathed.”

Dallas throbbed, he was so aroused. But the hellion before him had made it plain he would be lucky to escape with his life if he tried touching her again.

“It seems a tease is still a tease whatever century she comes from,” he accused.

Angel had pushed reality away for a moment, but now it was back with a vengeance. Before her stood a very angry, very frustrated man. “I’m not a tease! I came in here alone to rinse off some of the trail dust. If you’ll recall, you’re the one who came barging in unannounced.”

“You didn’t send me away,” he pointed out.

“You’re right. That was a mistake I won’t make again. I’ll have your apology and you can go,” she said.

He swore under his breath. “When hell freezes over.”

They were at a stalemate.

It was plain from the look on Dallas’s face that he didn’t believe Angel was innocent of purposefully trying to entice him. But it was the truth. Angel had no explanation for her unusual behavior. Exactly what had happened, anyway? Was it possible the Texas Ranger had cast some sort of spell over her? Had something been invented in the twentieth century to aid in the seduction of innocent virgins? She shuddered at the thought.

“You’re cold,” Dallas said, misinterpreting her reaction. He reached to grab a man-sized towel from the nearby rack, and she stepped back until she hit the tile wall. It wasn’t nearly far enough.