Protector's Honor. Kit Wilkinson

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Protector's Honor - Kit Wilkinson Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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to a spa. I used it immediately. For Christmas, an ugly sweater which I exchanged for a handbag. Max got married this year. I haven’t really seen much of him lately.”

      “When was that?”

      “The wedding? Two months ago.” Her mouth twitched.

      “You don’t seem happy about that.”

      She shrugged. “Max is happy. Karin, his wife, has been hard to get to know. Max and I were really close before. It’s an adjustment for me.”

      Rory licked his lower lip and leaned his large body over his knees. “Tabitha, why did you run back to your car like that?”

      A tear dropped to her cheek. Her hand moved quickly to brush it aside. “It was nothing. I just want to go home. I wanted my car to be there so I knew I could get home. I don’t like being…trapped.”

      “Trapped?” Rory sat up straight in his chair and scratched his ear. “Sounds like a story there.”

      “Not one for today,” she said, praying that he’d let it go.

      He nodded. His mouth held a gentle smile. “You don’t need to worry. We’ll get you home.”

      Tabitha wasn’t sure what he meant by we but it sounded like more help from him and that she did not want. What if he changed back to supercop? Or worse, charmed her again with those electric eyes? “You know, if I had a phone, I could call a friend to pick me up. That is, if you’re finished grilling me.”

      A full smile covered his face. “I’m finished. For now.” He felt around his waistline. “I don’t have my phone, either. Here.”

      Before she could say anything, he’d scooped her up in his arms and was weaving his way through the tables, heading for the inn.

      “You don’t need to carry me! I’m not paraly—” She swallowed the rest of the word, aware of how close she was to his face and neck. Of the strong masculine scent which emanated there.

      “Relax,” he said. “You must be the tensest person I’ve ever met.”

      Oh, yeah. Relax. Sure. Her breath stuck in her throat, her senses on overload.

      “Please, put me down,” she whispered.

      “You can’t walk. I’m trying to help.”

      I don’t want any more help. I want to go home. Tabitha thought she might burst if she didn’t get away from him. New tears flooded the corners of her eyes.

      As he turned up the stairs, her head jostled back to his shoulder. “That’s it. Just relax,” he suggested, his soft breath drifting over her neck. “I’ve got you.”

      And with his whisper, her tears won their battle, escaping her eyes, flowing out hard and heavy, in narrow, salty streams all the way to her chin and onto Rory’s shirt.

      FOUR

      The investigation took up a good part of the afternoon. Detectives Greenwood and Hines agonized over every detail before leaving. Rory appreciated their methodical ways, knowing his father would have been pleased that the department still ran tight.

      In the cool air-conditioning of the Birchwood Inn, he sat on one end of a hand-carved bench that he’d pulled near Tabitha. On the other end of the bench, he’d propped her ankle. The flesh around it had turned bluish, but the swelling seemed to have gone down a bit. They sipped cold drinks and ate some of the lemon squares Terri had brought.

      Tabitha had long ago arranged her ride home, and the police had no further questions for him. Rory no longer had a reason to stay. Yet he lingered. Nervously, he downed his glass of sweet tea and checked his watch. “I should call Gram.” He stood abruptly.

      Terri stood with him. “Oh, yeah, Gram. I’ll need to change your reservation at Nick’s.”

      “Reservation? What reservation?” Rory swallowed hard.

      “Oh.” Terri pressed her lips together. “I thought you overheard me earlier.”

      Rory shrugged, eyes widening.

      “Well, Tabitha’s roommate can’t arrive until ten, so I made a dinner reservation for the two of you at Nick’s,” his cousin said. “But I forgot about Gram. Anyway, I’ll just change it from two to three.”

      Thanks, Terri. Talk about putting us on the spot. Rory glanced at Tabitha, trying to gauge her reaction.

      “Oh, wow. That’s nice but…” Tabitha shook her head from side to side. “I’m so tired and not the least bit hungry. I’ll just rest here and wait for my ride.”

      “You can’t sit here all that time. I won’t hear of it,” Terri said. “So get whatever you need from our boutique and have a great dinner, all compliments of the Birchwood Inn. It’s the least we can do.” Terri smiled, turned on her heel and headed to her office without giving either of them a chance to respond.

      Tabitha turned to Rory with a sly grin. “She’s hard to argue with.”

      “Yep. Can’t get a word in. She’s always been like that.” He scratched his head. “Hey, I didn’t know your ride would take so long. I could have driven you home myself.”

      Tabitha stiffened. “No. You’ve already done so much. And forget about dinner. I’m sure you already have plans. So, don’t worry about me.”

      “Actually, the plan was dinner with my grandmother. If you don’t join us, I’ll have to cancel.”

      She looked up with a suspicious grin. “Now, that’s just silly.”

      Rory shook his head. “Tabitha, I can’t leave you here alone. It might not be safe.”

      “Nonsense. I’ll be fine.”

      “No can do…And Nick’s is a great place. Come on. Have dinner with us.” He lowered her foot to the floor and replaced the bench against the wall. Then he stood over her with his arms folded.

      “Oh, be serious,” she argued. “I can’t go. I’m filthy and I don’t have anything to wear.”

      Rory was glad that Terri had already taken care of that problem. He would have never thought of the hotel gift shop. “Not a good excuse. You have a new hotel room and the gift shop at your disposal.” He pointed to the boutique that adjoined the front lobby. “I can see a whole wall of women’s clothing from here. Come on. I’ll walk you over.” He offered her an arm.

      “I doubt I’ll be good company,” she continued as he pulled her up.

      “You’ll be perfect. It will be the best date you’ve ever had.”

      “Date? Your grandmother is coming. It’s not a date.”

      Rory felt her stiffen beside him. “It’s just a manner of speaking,” he explained, wondering why the reference made her so defensive. Many people would call a lot less than dinner at the town’s fanciest restaurant a date.

      In

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