there.”
“That settles it then. I’d rather have you looking out there than the cops who are already happy with their suspect.”
Colin rubbed the gauzy material of the curtains between his fingers. “You need thicker curtains at your window.”
“There’s nothing on the other side except the dunes, and I have a fence separating my yard from the dunes.”
“Don’t the teenagers still hang out in the sand dunes?”
“Once in a while, but they don’t venture into my yard.”
“Maybe they did tonight.” He drummed his fingers against the window. “Do you have a sheet or something you can hang over this window?”
Michelle gave him a sheet from the linen closet and he draped it over the curtain rod, covering the window and the torn curtains.
“Thanks, Colin. I’m glad you were…taking a walk.”
“Me, too, but I hope that’s not your way of kicking me out of your house.”
“It must be past 1:00 a.m.”
“Must be. But if you think I’m leaving you here alone with disembodied hands at the window and see-through curtains, you’re crazy.”
A warm rush of…something sweet coursed through her veins. “I’m a mathematician. I’m too logical to be crazy.”
“Except maybe crazy about pi.”
She glanced down at her sleep shirt, her cheeks warming. “Oh, this silly thing.”
“I like it.” His blue eyes glowed with an inner fire that singed the ends of her lashes. “I like it a lot.”
She giggled. No, she laughed, because Michelle Girard never giggled. Then she ducked her head in the linen closet again. “I’ll get you a blanket and pillow for the couch. Unless you’d rather have a sleeping bag for the floor.”
“I’d rather— The couch will be fine.”
She held out the blanket and pillow for him, and he took them from her, grazing her arm with his hand. She held herself erect, as an overwhelming desire to throw herself against his chest again surged through her body.
He dumped the blanket onto the couch. “Leave your door open just in case. And if you see or hear anything, don’t hesitate to let loose with one of those screams.”
“Okay, I can do that.” She added a chipper note to her voice to defuse the double entendre. Or was she the only one thinking about a different kind of scream?
Michelle left her door halfway open and crawled into bed, her gaze darting to the makeshift curtain across the window. Had she imagined the hand?
She pulled the pillow to her chest and buried her face into its softness. Whether the hand was real or not, it had brought Colin to her doorstep. And he brought safety and security.
Or maybe he brought more danger than she could handle.
* * *
COLIN WIGGLED HIS toes against the chill seeping into his feet. His nostrils twitched at the smell of rich coffee wafting through the air. Heaven.
He shifted on the uncomfortable couch and peeled open one eye. Michelle buzzed around the kitchen, clinking dishes and dipping in and out of the refrigerator. Pure heaven.
He’d had an uneasy feeling last night ever since he’d left Michelle at her front door after their late lunch. The cops were complacent. That was a bad state of mind—especially for a cop.
He’d noticed the patrol car of one of Coral Cove’s finest cruising down the street once or twice, but Michelle needed more than that. He couldn’t sleep, anyway, and tossing rocks into the inky ocean seemed like a logical alternative. Once outside, his feet beat an automatic path to Michelle’s house.
He’d been on high alert, his ears attuned to the slightest sound. He hadn’t even been sure the noise he’d heard had been a scream or that it had come from Michelle’s house. But it was all the signal he’d needed.
“Did I wake you?”
He blinked and the vision in the kitchen came into focus. “The smell of that coffee woke me up. I know you don’t drink the stuff. You didn’t have to go through any trouble for me.”
“My dad was a coffee drinker, and I still have the coffeemaker—no trouble at all. Besides, it’s the least I can do for a midnight rescue. Black, right?”
She poured a cup of the steaming brew and carried it to him along with a sliced bagel on a plate. She’d already showered and changed from her sexy nightshirt with the sexy slogan into a pair of cargo shorts, a T-shirt and a light sweatshirt to ward off the nip in the morning air.
“Do you want some cream cheese with your bagel?”
“Sure.” He swung his legs over the side of the couch, clutching the blanket in his lap. He’d shed his jeans last night and hadn’t expected breakfast in bed this morning. Not that he minded.
She placed the coffee cup and bagel on the coffee table and retreated to the kitchen for the cream cheese. As she approached him, her gaze dropped to his bare chest. Her cheeks blanched and she averted her eyes.
“Here you go.” She settled the tub of cream cheese with a knife crossed over the top next to the plate.
Before she could draw away, he encircled her wrist with two fingers. “A lovely parting gift from my captors.”
She dropped her lashes. “What’d they do?”
He ran a finger along one of the scars crisscrossing his chest. “You don’t want to know.”
“I’m sorry, even though that’s pretty inadequate.”
“It’s adequate.” He released her and peeled the lid from the cream cheese container. He spread a thick layer on a toasted bagel half. “Are you joining me or did you already eat?”
“I already had something.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Are we going outside when you finish?”
“Yeah. Have you looked out there yet?”
“I looked out the window and didn’t see a thing. Just sand.”
Several minutes later, Colin finished off his bagel and took a last gulp of coffee. While Michelle carried the dishes back to the kitchen, he let the blanket slip to the floor and snagged his jeans from the back of the couch.
She walked back into the room as he was yanking his pants over his thighs. Pink suffused her cheeks, and he couldn’t help grinning as he zipped his fly. Despite the veneer of sophistication she wore, Michelle wasn’t much different from that bashful high school girl with the endless legs and silver in her mouth.
“Are you coming with me?”
“Of course.”
