all. Seeing David McMillan standing starkers in the moonlight had not been the delusion of an overwrought mind. It had been plain reality. She rubbed her forehead, trying to erase the image from her mind. She was in no state to contemplate a naked male.
She was uncomfortably aware of his scrutiny, the dark eyes intent on her face. He moved toward her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Sit down,” he ordered. “You look as if you’re about to collapse.” He eased her into a chair at the kitchen table. She sagged down like a bag of potatoes, too tired to fight his order. A moment later he put a glass with a measure of whiskey in front of her and seated himself across from her at the table.
“You have nothing to worry about,” he said calmly. “I’m not a mass murderer or a rapist or a con artist—which is easy for me to say, I’m well aware, but we can try to contact Susan and Andrew by phone tomorrow so they can set your mind at ease.”
“We can call them now,” she said. He was taking control of the situation and she didn’t like it.
“We could, but it’s the dead of night in Turkey and I’m not sure they’d appreciate it. Now, drink up. It’ll calm your nerves.”
She gritted her teeth and glared at him. “Do you always order people around?”
Surprise flared in his dark eyes, as if he had never considered the issue. Then the left corner of his mouth lifted with faint amusement. “Yes,” he said. “Now, relax, woman, and have that drink.”
Sam gave up. She gazed down into the amber liquid and winced at the smell of it. “I can’t. It will make me sick. I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast.”
“You do have a bit of a hungry look about you,” he commented. “I’ll fix you a sandwich.” He came to his feet, all six-two or-three inches of brown muscled manhood towering over her. He was a man used to being in charge, that was clear. A man used to giving orders. And being obeyed.
She didn’t have the strength to oppose him, didn’t even have the strength to come to her feet and walk to her bedroom, so she sat there like a zombie and watched him deftly assemble a huge ham and cheese sandwich, adorned with lettuce and tomato.
“Milk?” he asked. “Tea, coffee?”
“Milk. If there is any.”
“There is. I brought some groceries with me when I came this afternoon.”
A good thing, too, Sam thought, because there wasn’t much in the house. She watched him take a carton of milk out of the refrigerator and pour her a glass. His hand was big and strong, like everything else about him.
It all seemed so ordinary, sitting here in a kitchen with another person who was fixing her something to eat. It wasn’t ordinary. She didn’t know this man and he was sharing this house with her. And here he was, wrapped only in a towel, and she herself with nothing on under her skimpy little robe.
Maybe all of this was a dumb dream and she would wake up and find it was morning and none of this had actually happened. If she told Gina about this nocturnal fantasy, her friend would tell her it was Sam’s feminine side trying to get through to her on a subconscious level. You need a man, she’d say. Well, Sam didn’t need a man. She needed a college degree and financial security, thank you.
“I didn’t hear you come home,” he said. “I didn’t see a car.” His voice was deep, resonating somewhere deep inside her, disturbing her in a way she didn’t want to be disturbed.
“I came home walking.” Between bites and sips she told him what had happened to the car, not caring he might think it was pretty stupid to run out of gas.
“You look exhausted,” he observed. “Like someone who hasn’t had a lot of fun lately.”
“I haven’t.” Well, it was the truth. “I work for my grandfather, and he’s getting old and temperamental and I worry about him.” Why was she saying this? It wasn’t her habit to say things like this to strangers.
“What do you do?”
She gave a low laugh. “That depends on who you ask. He’ll tell you I’m his little granddaughter helping him out at the office. He owns a furniture retail store.”
David gave her a considering look. “But you’re running the whole show?”
She nodded. “He pretends he doesn’t know it, but I’m sure he does. Business has been slowing down a lot over the last few years and I don’t know how long we can hold out, but…” She sighed. “It’s like he doesn’t want to see it.”
She hadn’t had a raise in years; the money simply wasn’t there. With more and more big furniture super-stores opening in the area, there was no chance of survival. That was why she was getting her degree: paper qualifications to back up her working experience. She intended to find a job that would offer her good career possibilities and decent money. She had her son to plan for. Kevin was only ten now, but in another eight years he’d be off to college.
She sighed and took another bite of the sandwich. Kevin was spending the summer in Florida with her sister and brother-in-law who ran recreational and educational camps for kids all year around. He was having a wonderful time, and it gave Sam the opportunity to take extra classes at night and not worry about whether she was leaving him alone too much. Still, she missed him and looked forward to the end of summer when he’d be back. She’d have to find an apartment by then, too. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead. She didn’t want to have to think about that now.
“Are you all right?” Concern in the man’s voice.
She glanced up at him, standing near her chair. “I’m fine…just tired.” Her plate was empty, the sandwich finished. She’d practically wolfed it down. “I’ve got to get some sleep, though.”
In order to do that she’d first have to get up from her chair. She wasn’t sure she could summon the strength; she felt as if she weighed a thousand pounds—inert, immovable. She had no choice but to try. Pushing her chair back, she came awkwardly to her feet, felt her body reeling, struggling for balance.
“Easy…” He moved forward, reached out a hand to steady her.
Devoid of energy, her body would not obey. It landed softly and neatly against his, like a rag doll.
She was dizzily conscious of his arm around her back, holding her. Felt her cheek against the warmth of his naked chest.
It felt very nice, very safe.
Safe. She let out a sigh. It had been a long time since she’d felt safe.
Drawing in a slow, deep breath, she smelled the warm, male scent of his skin, felt the chest hair tickling her cheek. This was a dream. Her mind was playing tricks with her again, but she didn’t care. Dreaming was safe.
He had a strong chest, a strong, hard body that was holding her so comfortably, as if she belonged there and she had no worries and all was well with her world. Ah, bliss.
Then she felt something else, something more than comfort. The pounding of her heart, or was it his? The warmth rushing through her body. And the heat of his, against her.
She froze as the realization of what was happening dawned on her, clearing her mind instantly. Fearful
