that she was gazing into his eyes and clutching his hands as if she might never let go, Bree roused herself from her trance. “Let’s take the dishes through to the kitchen, and I’ll load the machine.” Reluctantly, she stood. “The least I can do is take charge of the clean-up operation.”
She was smiling up at him as she got to her feet, but the smile faded when he rose with her. His nearness was a dangerous reminder of an attraction that could easily spin out of control. With only inches between them, desire rippled through her, driving the breath from her lungs. She saw an answering flare in the depths of Rylan’s eyes.
For an instant, his gaze hooked her and held her, refusing to let her go. Then he blinked, and the spell was broken.
“I’ll make coffee.” His voice was slightly husky. “Point me in the direction of your machine.”
“Follow me.” Bree carried their plates through to the open-plan kitchen. “I was out of coffee, but I got some from the store at lunch time.” She indicated a cabinet above the coffeemaker. “The new pack is in there.”
As she bent to open the dishwasher, she heard Rylan searching through the shelves. After a minute or two, he closed the door. “I can’t find the coffee.”
Bree straightened. “Are you one of those guys like my dad?” she teased. “If it doesn’t jump out at you the first time, you just give up?”
“Ahem.” He crooked a finger at her. “Come and find it for me, wise gal.”
Chuckling, Bree went to stand beside him. Since she knew exactly where she had placed the coffee, she suspected this was a ruse to get her close to him. If so, she was happy to play along.
Except...where was the coffee? She turned her head, frowning at Rylan over her shoulder. “It was right here.” She indicated the empty spot on the shelf where she had placed the new pack of coffee beans earlier that day.
“Hey.” He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “It’s not a problem. There’s an all-night convenience store on Second Street, right? I can just—”
“It’s not that.” She stopped biting her lip long enough to blurt out what was bothering her. “This has happened twice today.”
His grip tightened slightly. “You’ve already lost your coffee once before now?” Although the words were light, his gaze was intent.
“No.” Quickly, Bree told him about the incident with her recorder. She brought her hands up across her body to grip her forearms. “I think of my brain as a filing cabinet. Because I’m dyslexic, the drawers weren’t labeled properly when I was born. That means I have to be extra organized. If I’m not, I can file something in the wrong drawer and lose it forever. I don’t make mistakes like this.”
“You’re under a lot of pressure with a big show coming up,” Rylan reminded her.
She tilted her chin. “I accepted what happened with the recorder as a mistake on my part for just that reason. Maybe I mislaid it, and someone found it and returned it to my office. But this?” She gestured to the empty space in the cupboard. “I know I bought coffee, and I know I put it right there.”
“Does anyone else have a key to your apartment?” Rylan asked.
“Only my mother, but why would she come down here without telling me just to move my coffee?” The question struck her as so ridiculous that she had to bite back a laugh, even though she didn’t find the situation remotely amusing. Could she actually be losing her mind?
“I don’t want to alarm you, but this is classic stalking behavior.”
“Is it?” Bree wrinkled her brow. “How do you know that?”
There was a momentary pause before he answered. “I must have read it somewhere. The stalker moves, damages or hides the victim’s belongs. It unnerves her, making her think she’s imagining things. Has anything else been happening lately that could be linked to this?”
She swayed toward him slightly, her mind on the emails. Was it possible the two things were related? She instinctively trusted Rylan, but she barely knew him. Did she really want to start sharing secrets with him?
* * *
Tell me about the emails, Bree.
For a second, Rylan thought she might be about to open up to him. Then she gave him that too-bright smile and he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Had he blown it with his comment about stalking? The words had left his lips before he’d thought them through. Even though he regretted them now, the comparison was accurate. In his work as a private security consultant, Rylan had protected several celebrities who’d been threatened by obsessive fans. He knew most of the tactics.
Although he hadn’t seen the emails, he was convinced this was the start of some low-level scare tactics. He was willing to bet the coffee would turn up again in a day or two, in the exact place Bree had left it. The person who was doing this would be close by, observing her confusion and distress, enjoying the impact of his actions. The biggest problem was that Rylan knew from experience that most stalkers weren’t content to stick with the minor stuff. Having fixated on Bree, this guy would soon be planning something bigger and bolder.
She’d said that the only person who had access to her apartment was her mom. Although Bree might try to brush this aside as a forgetful episode, Rylan wasn’t convinced. Which meant someone other than Audrey was able to get into Bree’s home. He didn’t want to frighten her, but the image of a shadowy figure slipping into her bedroom while she was asleep chilled his blood.
“You should change your locks.”
Bree blinked. “You seriously think someone came in here?”
“You told me your family has been having a few problems. A brick was thrown through the gallery window a week ago. Your recorder and coffee going missing may be unconnected.” He became aware that his hands were still on her shoulders, and he slid them slowly down to her upper arms. “But it couldn’t hurt to tighten up your personal security.”
Her perfect white teeth caught briefly on the plump cushion of her lower lip, and everything Rylan knew about himself started to unravel. Tough. Professional. In control. In that moment, he was none of those things. All he wanted to do was wrap Bree up and protect her from anything that could cause her harm.
Could he really have developed such strong feelings for a woman he barely knew? He almost laughed out loud. There was no “could have” about it. The first time he had seen Bree, he had been rocked by an emotion so tender, wild and all-consuming, he knew his life had changed. Turning his back on her now wasn’t an option, even though he was terrified by what was happening to him.
Rylan didn’t do vulnerability. The son of an alcoholic, abusive father and a downtrodden mother, his early life had been about dodging the blows—physical and emotional. Although his father’s death freed him from fear, the damage had been done. Worthless. Weak. Cry baby. Mommy’s boy. He’d spent the rest of his life fighting those labels. Now he’d met Bree and, for the first time, his iron control had snapped.
Was he prepared to give his feelings a name beyond heady physical desire? After all, he had known her less than a week. As for how much he wanted her... Rylan had never known it was possible to feel this way. His whole body was
