almost begging to be touched, was almost his undoing. His erection pinched that much harder as he continued on his mission, all the while trying to ignore what was happening to his body.
Finding no other wounds worthy of medication, he covered her, then moved out of harm’s way to the rocking chair near the bed. “Tell me his name.”
“No.”
He gave a start. “No? Why not?”
“It’s none of your business,” she said in a small voice.
“As an attorney, what if I want to make it my business?”
Her mouth worked. “Why would you do that?”
“Does it matter?” His tone was tight.
He wished he knew what was going on behind those lovely eyes. Even in her vulnerable state, she seemed a master at guarding her secrets.
“I have to handle this in my own way, in my own time.”
Boy, had he heard that one before. “You’re not going to file charges.” His words were a flat statement of fact.
“No, I’m not,” she said, though she kept her gaze averted.
Feeling his attorney modus operandi kick in, he wanted to fire more questions at her, weaken her resolve until she agreed to make the scumbag pay. But he sensed that tactic wouldn’t work with this woman, that underneath her fragility was a strong will, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, she was right. It wasn’t any of his business.
“Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?” he asked, changing the subject.
“No, thanks. I just want to go to bed.”
“No problem.” He took a deep breath, then stood. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you need?”
“I’m sure.” She paused, locking her gaze on his. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“You’re welcome,” he lied, then turned and strode out of the room.
A short time later, Collier’s frustration continued to rise along with the water. With too much rain, the bridge up to the house became impassable. Under normal conditions that wouldn’t be a bad thing, since he had tons of work to keep him occupied.
However, Brittany Banks had put a whole new spin on things. After the way she’d affected him, work remained the furthest thing from his mind. What was there about her that had his gut in such a mess? That ignited his libido? Hell, he was practically engaged to a woman with whom he had everything in common.
With Brittany, it was just the opposite. It was a given from the way she was dressed that she didn’t have much money, much less move in the same social circles he did.
Disgusted with his thoughts and with himself, Collier turned back to the stack of papers piled on the coffee table. Man, did he need to be busting his butt. Defending a bigwig from a large energy company on sexual harassment charges brought against him by one of the female employees would not be a piece of cake. He had to be prepared. There could be no mistakes on his part, especially with the federal appointment in the offing.
Still, his mind was cluttered with the woman occupying the guest room. Running a close second to that thought was another equally as chilling. What if someone got wind of this incident—like the press, for instance? What would happen? They’d have a field day coming up with all kinds of inappropriate sexual connotations. With him under consideration for the federal judgeship, that would be the worst possible scenario.
Shuddering, Collier stared out the window and watched a bolt of lightning rip across the sky.
Three
Brittany found it hard to believe she’d actually slept. Opening her eyes, she peered at the clock on the table bedside her. Six o’clock. Time to get up, only she wasn’t at home, in her bed. For a moment she lay unmoving, the events of the previous evening suddenly leaping to the forefront of her mind in living color. When she thought of Rupert Holt’s groping hands and slimy lips on her body, she couldn’t bear it. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut again, fighting off the queasiness in her stomach.
Following several deep breaths, she felt her nausea finally subside, but tears took its place, clogging her throat. Was it still raining? She listened, her sore body tense. Yes, it was still coming down, though seemingly not with the same fierceness as last night. But more rain of any kind could not be good, not on the side of this mountain.
She had to get home.
Hot tears continued to drench her face, but Brittany didn’t try to stop them. She hadn’t cried, not even when she’d been alone with her rescuer. She’d been so exhausted, she’d fallen into a deep sleep, too tired to cry.
Now, however, with a new day staring at her, reality hit like another of Rupert’s blows. She winced, feeling the tears jam her throat. For a second she feared she might choke.
How could something so awful have happened to her? How could she have let it happen? She almost never went out with a man. Following one disastrous love affair long before her brother Tommy was incarcerated, she’d sworn off men. Since then, she’d held herself aloof, making sure no one approached her.
But Rupert Holt had been so attentive, encouraging her to talk, especially about Tommy. He’d seemed genuinely concerned about her brother’s plight, even hinting that he was willing to help seek his release, until he’d caught her in a weak moment.
He was one of Haven’s leading businessmen, chairman of the board of his wife’s high-end furniture manufacturing company, which did business all over the world. On top of that, he was the travel agency’s most lucrative client, and she’d been reluctant to offend him, since she needed her job.
Still, she should have known he was setting her up. When things sounded too good to be true, they usually were. But he’d been such a gentleman, she’d been fooled. The fact that he was a married man with grown children, and so much older than she was, had lulled her; anything other than friendship between them had never occurred to her.
How stupid and gullible she had been.
Yet never in her wildest imagination would she have picked him to be an abuser of women. That kind of man fit in the category with her drunken stepfather, who’d been a lowlife scumbag from the time he’d married her mother until his death several years afterward.
Rupert was good-looking and charming. He was a big man, with steel-gray hair, crisp blue eyes and more than his share of charm. Although he’d rarely mentioned his wife, she hadn’t attached anything significant to that. His behavior toward her just didn’t make sense. Why had he resorted to violence?
A renewed sense of fear coiled tightly in the pit of Brittany’s stomach, only subsiding when she told herself that he couldn’t hurt her anymore. She was safe. But for how long? When she returned to her job at the travel agency…
She wouldn’t think about that now. She had to put Rupert and what had happened out of her mind, bury it deeply in a secluded part of her heart and forget it. Since she couldn’t do anything to get back at him, that was the only logical thing
