her good-night.
Probably come at him with a knife while he slept.
He’d leave well enough alone before he became as lust-craved as Laci Cahill. With one big difference. He wasn’t married—and had no intention of ever playing the matrimony game.
EVE PULLED THE COVERS about Joey and leaned close, letting her lips brush his forehead. Asleep, innocence was etched into his youthful face. If only she could give him that simple purity of joy back again, instead of dragging him back into the ominous threat of peril.
Trepidation played havoc with her breathing as she backed away from Joey’s bed. What if that had been Orson at the door tonight? What if he’d been the man who’d pinned her to the wall with his brute strength? The truth shuddered through her.
There would have been no way she could have protected Joey.
But it hadn’t been Orson Bastion. It had been Sean Ledger, whose hard, unrelenting strength held her captive. Yet, the minute she’d realized he wasn’t dangerous, it had been attraction, not fear, she’d felt at his hands.
Eve slipped out of her robe, draped it across the one chair in the room and then dropped to the twin bed opposite Joey’s. She slid beneath the crisp sheets and pulled the quilt over her as confusing thoughts tumbled through her mind.
The dread that had chilled her before Sean’s arrival had disappeared. The rambling old house no longer made her uneasy. If anything, she felt protected. Sean made the difference.
Yet, she couldn’t start relying on him. Tomorrow might bring anything. Tonight she needed to get some sleep.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and she turned over to stare out the window and into the darkness, and the scatter of stars that studded the sky.
Her mind flashed back to Sean and a rush of heat crept inside her.
Surely not desire, she told herself. Not in this situation. If she felt anything at all for Sean, the attraction stemmed from pure relief that he wasn’t Orson Bastion.
If he had been, she’d be dead.
But Orson was still on the loose.
SOMEONE WAS IN THE HOUSE. Eve could hear him breathing, smell the odors of sweat and cheap aftershave, see his shadow coming nearer.
She clutched the knife and felt the sear of pain and hot, sticky blood gushing into her hand. When she looked down she saw that the handle was missing and the blade had sliced into her palm.
Her brain began to clatter. Eve jerked awake and sat up in bed. The clattering wasn’t in her brain, but was coming from the bedside table where her cell phone was vibrating against the old wood.
She glanced at the clock as she grabbed the phone to quiet it before it woke Joey. Five minutes before six in the morning was extremely early for a call from either Gordon or Collette, and they were the only two who had her number.
The vibration in the palm of her hand mirrored the state of her nerves as she whispered hello.
“It’s Gordon. Is this Eve?”.
“Yes.” The urgency in his voice told her this was not a good-news call.
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