her surprise, no sarcastic remark greeted her return. Instead, except for the faint hiss and pop of the fire, the dimly lit room was eerily quiet.
Her heart stuttered. In the space of time it took her to toss away his pack and pivot toward the bed, her imagination conjured the worst possible scenario: Taggart had somehow gotten loose. Any second now he was going to explode out of the shadows, wrap his iron-banded arms around her and yank her against his big, hard-as-steel frame—
But no. No. Relief sucked the starch right out of her as she made out the solid, long-legged shape sprawled on the bed. Locking her shaking knees, she fought to regain her composure, only to abandon the effort as fear for her safety reluctantly gave way to concern for his well-being.
She felt a stir of alarm at his continuing silence. Driven to make sure he was still breathing, she crossed the room and crept as close to the bed as she dared. To her gratification, from her new vantage point she could see his chest in his gray flannel shirt rising and falling as steadily as a metronome.
The breath she hadn’t known she was holding sighed out while her legs once again went as weak as spent flower stems. In need of a moment to regroup, she marshaled her strength and prepared to step away and leave him to sleep.
Before she could do more than think of retreat, up snapped Taggart’s eyelashes—thick, black as the night outside and the only part of his angular face that could possibly be described as soft looking—and then she was trapped in the pale-green tractor beam of his eyes.
“Hey.” For all the intensity of his gaze, his voice was as rough as a weathered board and more than a little groggy. “You’re back.”
“Yes.”
He glanced beyond her toward the darkened windows and frowned. “What time is it?”
“A little past seven.”
“Huh.” He raised his unfettered hand and she prepared to lunge for safety, but he only scrubbed it across his face. “Feels later.”
“It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah. I noticed.” His hand fell away and something she couldn’t define flickered in his eyes. “You had me worried.”
She wondered what he expected her to say. I’m sorry? Not a chance. Good, it serves you right? Well, that might be closer to the truth, but it wasn’t in her nature to gloat. Even if he so richly deserved it. She gestured toward the pack she’d deep-sixed near the door. “I brought your things.”
His gaze flicked over, took note, came back again. Speculation flashed across his face, but he didn’t say anything.
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