“I can’t breathe,” she mumbled, and he realized he was holding her so tight, her face was smashed against his underarm.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Thanks for getting here so fast. I probably should’ve called 911 but…”

He didn’t care about the why, he was glad she hadn’t. He’d been able to assemble the crew he wanted to come check for fingerprints and see if they could get anything on the shoe print. The techs had left once they got what they needed, but it wasn’t looking good. He still had to talk to two more of the neighbors, but so far, no prints other than the shoe and no one had seen or heard anything. There had been a rash of robberies a few blocks away and he had a bad feeling this was the same guy, but they had little to go on, and since they were committed when no one was home, these types of cases often dropped to the bottom of the pile.

That was good and bad. Good, because this burglar didn’t want violence—he wanted to get in, get what he needed, and get out. Bad, because it might never get solved and that meant that a man had broken into Courtney’s home, invaded her privacy, scared the shit of out of her, and made her feel insecure. And that? That made him want to kill the motherfucker.

“You’re doing it again.” Her voice was muffled and he released her, taking her elbow instead.

“I’m not going to faint or anything, you know. I’m sorry I scared you. I know I overreacted but—”

“You reacted exactly the way you should have.” He didn’t release her arm, using it to lead her up her front stairs as he fished around for the key she’d left him. “You called the police, me, and you vacated the premises. Textbook. I’m really proud of you.”

She cleared her throat. “Um, thanks. You know, the back door’s not locked. I left it open when I ran out.”

“I locked it,” he said simply. Dusk had fallen and the house was nearly dark when he swung the door open. Courtney froze in the entranceway.

“C-can you turn the light on?” she whispered.

He flicked on the switch behind him and she let out a long sigh of relief. Maybe it was a good thing they hadn’t gotten any prints. If he’d been able to ID the perp, he didn’t know if he could’ve stopped himself from making sure the bastard wound up as afraid of the dark as Courtney was right now.

Her gaze flickered immediately to the window and she closed her eyes for a second, taking a steadying breath. “Thanks for getting rid of the glass and boarding it up. I don’t think I could’ve slept.”

“Not a problem. Why don’t you have a seat? I can make you some tea or something.”

“I’d rather have a beer, I think,” she admitted with a wan smile. Her cheeks were still chalk white, and something to take the edge off didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“Sure, I’ll get it. Go sit.”

She seemed like she wanted to argue, but did as he asked, padding across the oak floor to the large sectional couch that took up the center of the living room.

He headed into the kitchen and pawed around until he found a couple beers, a bottle opener, and one glass. When he returned to the living room, he found Courtney huddled into the couch cushions with a tattered pink blanket over her.

“You cold?” He eyed her hard, wondering if he’d missed signs of shock, and if she wasn’t as fine as she claimed to be, but she shook her head and faced him with a clear gaze.

“No. This is the blanket I had when I was a kid. Makes me feel…comfy.”

And safe, he added mentally.

He sat down next to her, opened her beer, and poured it into the glass.

She murmured her thanks and accepted the drink before twisting to face him head-on. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it? That someone thinks they have the right to come into your home and take things that don’t belong to them?”

“It’s not fair,” he agreed and then popped the cap off his own beer and took a swig. He must have looked as grim and angry as he felt, because she laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry to keep harping on it. This was nothing in the scheme of things. No one got hurt, no one…anyway, I know you’ve seen and dealt with so much worse…”

He could hear the pity in her voice as she struggled with the words to say. Which meant she knew about Monica. He’d figured it would come up eventually and either Cat would tell her or Galen would mention it. He racked his brain for some pithy brush-off, but shocked himself.

“It was the worst day of my life.”

She squeezed his biceps reassuringly, and the words started to flow, out of control.

“I told her we should go out. She had a big test to study for and I didn’t want her to spend the whole afternoon cooking, but she wouldn’t have it. She was set on making me crab legs.” He drained half the beer bottle and set it down. “I don’t even like fucking crab legs.”

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and tried to picture her face. She’d been the exact opposite of Courtney. Black hair, dark eyes, leaner, not so curvy. The details were fuzzy now. He knew there’d been a dimple. Just one, but he couldn’t remember on which side anymore. And freckles, but it was a strain to recall the pattern of them. He didn’t think of her every day anymore, which was part blessing and part curse, because on days he remembered, the guilt over days he’d forgotten was almost crippling.

“It changed my life,” he admitted. “From my career path to the way I thought about the world. Looking back, I can’t say that those changes were for the better. I am what I am now, but you don’t have to let this one event change you.” She started to protest and he held up a hand. “I know it’s not the same thing, but it was a violation. You can either choose to believe that this was one bad person at one bad time, give yourself a day or two to be pissed off, sad, and scared, and move on, or you can let it color your view of the world entirely, and fester.”

She toyed with the ragged edges of her blanket as she contemplated his words. “Like I did with Wes,” she murmured. Not angrily, which was good. “That’s exactly what I did. I let him shake my confidence and keep me from trying to find another, healthier relationship. It’s been like he’s still controlling me and we’re not even together anymore.”

She settled more deeply into the cushion, suddenly looking exhausted. He patted her legs, urging her to put them on his lap. “That’s enough talk for now. You’ve had a hell of an evening. Why don’t you rest for a few minutes? I’ll hang here and finish my beer, watch some TV until you want to go to bed.”

She hesitated and then nodded, setting her beer on the coffee table. “I appreciate it. I’m just not ready to be alone yet.” He covered her calf with his hand and rubbed in slow, soothing circles. Her eyes drifted closed and a few minutes later, she was snoring softly.

Instead of watching TV, he watched her sleep for a while, and thought of ways he could help her feel more secure. Maybe he’d suggest she get a dog. Odds were almost zero that the burglar would come back and she lived in a relatively low-crime area, but a dog would give her a sense of security as well as provide some much-needed comfort for those inevitable nights that she felt alone and scared.

Or you could help her with that.

No, he couldn’t. They had two scenes left together, and tonight had served as a terrible reminder of exactly why he’d avoided getting close to another woman since Monica. He closed his eyes and relived the moments on the phone with Courtney, when she’d told him someone had broken in. He could almost picture her there, with the knife they’d left at the Brentons’, tiptoeing toward the door. Jesus Christ, what if someone had still been in the house? What if that person had used that knife against her?

He sucked down the rest of the beer to wash the bitter taste of fear from his mouth before looking down at her again. Her face was so peaceful and trusting in sleep, his heart gave a squeeze.

Yeah, two more scenes, then it was time to walk away. Too bad it felt like he’d be leaving a little piece of himself behind.

Chapter Eleven

She was so warm, so cozy, she didn’t want to move. But, damn, her back was getting stiff. She tried to roll to her belly, but the wall stopped her.

When the wall then inhaled and let out a slow breath, she froze.

Not a wall.

Rafe.

His arm tightened around her, and he grunted as her bottom lined up more fully with his hips.

She stared into the darkness, at a loss. Last she remembered, she’d drifted off on the couch with her feet on him. At some point, he must have fallen asleep as well, and somehow they’d wound up tangled together on the big sectional. Not that she was complaining. He felt amazing. Odd how she’d just gotten robbed, but with Rafe’s body spooned around hers, she’d never felt so safe.

“You awake?” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

She wanted to lie. To lie there in the comfort of his sure embrace for a little longer before he pulled away. Instead, she nodded. “Yeah.” She swallowed hard and waited, but he didn’t move.

“You doing okay?”

She was doing fine, except that slow, sexy burn in her belly was starting to spread, the same as it did whenever he touched her. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good. You scared the shit out of me, you know.”

The admission shouldn’t have made her happy, but it so did. Pulse banging, she gave an experimental wriggle that brought their bottom halves in, snug. The long, thick evidence of his arousal branded her ass through the thin cotton of her scrubs and sent a thrill through her.

“Courtney,” he groaned, a warning in his voice.

“Rafe?” she responded boldly, not bothering to hide the challenge there. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. She was taking a huge chance here. This wasn’t part of the deal, but there was nothing wrong with a little renegotiation.

After last night, it had become abundantly clear to her that when the chips were down, there was one person she’d wanted to call. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, this thing between them had already gone far deeper than just sex. It was time for her to start fighting for what she wanted.

He didn’t seem to need much coaxing at the moment, though. His hand trailed up from her hip, dragging her shirt with it. At some point in the night, she must have stripped off her bra and tossed it because when his warm palm covered her breast, it was flesh on flesh, and she gasped. Goose bumps broke out on her arms as his fingertips teased her while his teeth nipped her earlobe.

“That’s so nice,” she whispered, loving the delicious pull of need that accompanied his touch. The pace was slow, leisurely, like a long summer stroll in the sunshine. She rocked back against him and sighed. By the time he rolled her onto her back and slid her pants and underwear off, she was a mass of achy need. He stood, stripping off his own clothes, before lowering himself on top of her, wedging his muscular thigh between hers.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured as he slipped his hand over her stomach and lower. “And here. So wet. So welcoming.” He dipped between her folds to rub her center in slow, steady circles.

“So hot,” he groaned in a pained voice. “You make me crazy,” he murmured, his voice so full of longing, it was all the encouragement she needed.

She strained forward, biting her lip as the tension wound tighter and tighter.

His low whispers spurred her on, a climax glimmering on the horizon. She fluttered her hips helplessly, her motions almost frantic. So close… He flexed a finger deep inside her, sending her hurling off the precipice.

She came hard, shudders racking her body. Dimly, even as her muscles contracted and flexed, she realized he was leaving her, moving that delicious pressure. She wanted to cry out, to tell him she wasn’t done yet, but an instant later, words were impossible as he covered her body with his and slid his cock deep in one long thrust.