GRIPPED AVERY. Earlier that day he had refused her kiss, but now he was calmly telling her that he was spending the night. With her. Uninvited.
Avery pulled back, tugging herself out of Dawson’s strong arms. But she immediately missed his warmth as her skin chilled again—even though it wasn’t as cold inside as when she’d first come home. She had shut the sliding glass doors and locked them. She should have locked the front door, too. So that Dawson hadn’t been able to get inside.
That was why a cry had slipped through her lips when he’d knocked. Until then she hadn’t realized she’d left it unlocked. That she’d left herself unprotected if the person who’d been inside her cottage had returned...
“What did you just say?” she asked again. Maybe she’d heard him wrong. She must have.
“I’m staying here tonight,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Do I need to hit you with the oar again?” But he’d already taken it away from her—easily. The way an intruder could have if she had actually found one inside the cottage. He was right about that.
“Maybe you should,” Dawson agreed. “I probably need to have some sense knocked into me.”
“Well, at least you know your suggestion is crazy.”
“It’s not a suggestion,” he said. “I am staying here tonight.”
“No.” She would be able to rest easier with an intruder in her house than with Dawson there. If they hadn’t been in a crowded bar when he’d kissed her earlier, she wasn’t certain what would have happened.
Or maybe she was...
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”
She hadn’t felt alone—even before he’d arrived. While she hadn’t found anyone hiding in the bedrooms or baths, she’d still had that eerie feeling someone was watching her.
“Why not?” she asked. “Why do you care whether or not I’m alone?”
Her family didn’t worry about her. No matter how big the city she lived in, they trusted her to take care of herself. Her sister and parents knew how strong and determined she was. Dawson didn’t. But why would he care? He’d only just met her.
“You’re obviously scared,” he said.
Or maybe he did know her. But she was overreacting. She had to be.
“Yeah,” she agreed, “I’m scared that you’re refusing to leave.” Not because she was afraid of him but of what she might do with him. She was still too busy for a relationship—too busy trying to build a career to risk the distraction of a serious involvement.
He stepped closer, his amber eyes intense as he stared down at her. He stood so close that his chest nearly touched her breasts.
Her breath caught in her throat. He was so good-looking. So sexy...
Why was she protesting his staying? She didn’t have to have a relationship with him—serious or otherwise. She could just have a little fun for once.
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