Free The Protected (Fbi Psychics) by Shiloh Walker

boys have a different metabolism, but maybe I should dump the cookies instead of letting Alex have them.”
    “No. You’re probably right . . . just the sugar. Maybe the heat, if you’re not used to it.” He feathered his thumb over her brow. “If you take a nap, rest for a little while, you’ll probably feel better in a couple of hours.”
    He sounded rather certain, she thought. Shaking her head, she casually eased away. His touch had hot little sparks jumping inside her. Not good. “I dunno, Gus.”
    “I’m sure it’s fine.” He seemed undeterred by the way she’d casually shifted her body, his fingers trailing down her cheek to cup her chin, angling her head back until he could peer into her eyes.
    A light, easy touch—just the press of his fingers under her chin. Barely any contact at all, and yet she felt it ricocheting through her. Her heart slammed hard against her chest, and if it wasn’t for years and years of practice in controlling everything from her physical responses to her emotions, Vaughnne knew she would have been breathing harder just from that light touch as well. She could feel the physical responses that weren’t quite as obvious. Her nipples tightened and ached—thank the maker of lined bras. It was the only thing keeping him from seeing
that
reaction, and she suspected he would have noticed.
    All because he stroked his thumb across her brow, touched her chin.
    All because he’d
looked
at her . . .
    What in the hell would she do if he kissed her?
    Better off not to know
, she warned herself.
    Better off.
    “Are you still dizzy?”
    Dizzy . . .
She hadn’t mentioned that. She knew she hadn’t. Giving him a wide-eyed look, she asked, “Was I dizzy?” Then she laughed a little. “I guess I was, seeing as how I did a face plant, huh? Nah. I feel okay, other than my head.”
    Wiggling out from between him and the sink, she made for the hallway. So much for trying to figure out a way to plant one of the units in the house.
    It was a damn good thing he hadn’t decided to search her while she was out. She was going to have to think about alternative methods, maybe, of keeping a close set of eyes on them.
    But thinking would have to come at a time when it wasn’t sheer torture just to move. She hadn’t been honest. She was still dizzy and her head was killing her. Alex’s mental probe had come smack up against her shields, and although she didn’t think he’d realized what he’d hit, just that impact had been enough to send her reeling.
    Rest. Reevaluate. But get the hell out of there first.
    The room spun around on her, and despite her determination, a groan managed to slip out of her. Slamming a hand against the wall, she closed her eyes and sucked in a breath.
    The kid . . . what the hell . . .
    She blew out all the air in her lungs and then took another breath, slower. Feeling a pair of eyes on her, she looked up and saw Alex standing at the end of the hall, a nervous, anxious look on his face.
    And he still held that stupid plate of cookies, too.
    He looked half-sick with guilt, and the cookie he’d been eating was clutched in one fist, but judging by the look on his face, he’d forgotten about it. Sighing, she closed her eyes and took another breath as he started to say something.
    She even saw the words forming in his eyes.
    But before he could say it, Gus cut him off. “Alex, why don’t you grab her a Coke from the fridge? Maybe it would help if she had a drink.”
    Sorry.
The kid wanted to say he was sorry, but Gus wouldn’t let him. She realized the problem there . . . Gus
couldn’t
let him, because neither of them realized she knew what had happened.
    What an utter
mess
.
    Babysitting.
    My ass.
    She managed not to snarl as Gus closed his hand around her arm once more, but it was a close thing.
    And once she got out of there, she was going to have a word with Mr. Taylor Jones. A very painful word.
    * * *
    “YOU have to be more careful,” Gus said