was saying what Barb expected her to say. It didn’t matter either way. Amber was twenty-eight; her top priority was her career. She still had decades for falling in love and building a family.
Even if her narrow focus on her career did get lonely sometimes.
She yanked on the tee and kicked the thought aside. The police believed she was somehow involved in a man’s murder. Her love life, or lack thereof, was the least of her worries.
How the hell the police could think she was involved was the million-dollar question. Why in the world would she hurt this man, much less kill him? She scarcely knew him. He had made a few deliveries to her house. He was always pleasant, but they never exchanged more than a dozen words. None of what she’d been told by the police so far made the slightest bit of sense.
“The house is clear.”
Amber jumped, slamming her elbow into the wall. Frowning at the broad-shouldered man filling the doorway to her closet, she rubbed her funny bone.
“Thank you,” she said even though she didn’t quite feel thankful. She did not want a babysitter. She hadn’t killed anyone, and there was no reason for a soul to want to harm her. Reporting the news for the past six-plus years had given her certain insights into situations like this one, and hiring a bodyguard this early in the investigation was overreacting. There could only be two potential explanations for her current dilemma: mistaken identity or a frame job. Both happened. As hard as she tried, she could come up with no other explanation.
Her bodyguard’s gaze roamed from her face all the way to her toes and back with a couple of unnecessary pauses in between. Now that annoyed her. He was here to keep her safe—supposedly. He had no business looking at her as if she was the next conquest on his radar. Though she suspected Mr. Sexy-as-Hell usually didn’t have to work very hard to get what he wanted. The man was gorgeous. Tall, with those broad shoulders that narrowed into a lean waist. Thick blond hair just the right length for threading your fingers through and deep blue eyes. His muscular build attested to his dedicated workout ethics. With every extra thump of her pulse she understood that beneath his smooth, tanned skin was an ego large enough for the Vulcan iron man that watched over the city of Birmingham from high atop Red Mountain.
Sean Douglas was hot, and he damn well knew it.
As if he agreed wholeheartedly with her assessment, he gifted her with a nod and disappeared.
Amber sighed. She should pull herself together. Her attorney was on the way over with whatever details the police had shared with him. They’d done nothing but ask questions this morning. Each time her attorney had asked about the evidence, the detective had evaded the question. Still, she hadn’t needed a lawyer to tell her that she wouldn’t have been called in and so thoroughly questioned had there been no evidence. Friends, colleagues and people acquainted with the victim were questioned in their homes or workplaces. Only the ones about to be named a person of interest—or, worse, a suspect—were hauled to the station and interviewed. The police had wanted her off balance—which was not a good thing.
How the hell was this possible?
She needed a couple of cocktails and a good night’s sleep. Maybe she’d wake up in the morning and discover this had all been just one big old bad nightmare.
Finding Sean Douglas kicked back on the sofa in her living room reminded her that the situation was all too real.
“I put on a pot of coffee.” He leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. “I figured some caffeine would be useful the next few hours.”
She would have preferred a caramel latte, but she’d been too emotional to think of dropping by her favorite coffee shop after leaving the police department. Her parents were beside themselves. They were in a remote part of Africa on a medical aid mission and couldn’t get back for days. She and Barbara had insisted they stay and do the important work they’d gone there to do. This entire business was nothing more than a mistake. Surely it would be cleared up in a day or two.
Belatedly she remembered to say, “Thank you.” Her attorney, Frank Teller, was a coffee drinker. Vaguely she wondered how Douglas had known this or if he was a coffee guy, too.
“I can call in some lunch for delivery. I’m guessing you didn’t take time for breakfast this morning.”
She appreciated the offer but said, “I had a protein smoothie. I’m fine.”
He dismissed her response with a wave of his hand. “How about a pizza or a burger? Your choice.”
She couldn’t possibly eat. “I’m not hungry. Feel free to raid my kitchen or order something for yourself.”
His mouth eased into a lopsided grin. “Already done that. You’re fresh out of real food.”
A frown furrowed her brow. He’d prowled through her kitchen? What kind of bodyguard checked the fridge?
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” he suggested with a pat of the sofa cushion next to him.
Amber felt sure that inviting pat worked well for him under normal circumstances, but those blue eyes and that hopeful smile did little more than annoy her at the moment. “Weren’t you briefed on my case?”
The need for personal security was entirely new to her, but instinct told her a man assigned to protect her would certainly have been briefed about the situation. Small talk was the furthest thing from her mind. He needed to find a way to entertain himself if he was bored. She had no desire to chat.
“I was.” He clasped his hands between his spread thighs.
“What else do you need to know?” She gave herself a mental pat on the back for not sounding as snippy as she felt.
“Until this situation is resolved,” he began, tracking her movements with those blue eyes as she settled in a chair a few feet away, “we’ll be spending a lot of time together. It’s helpful to know a little more than the facts of the case. What time do you like to get up in the mornings? What’s your usual bedtime? Do you watch television or read or just relax in the evenings? Should I expect company? Is there a boyfriend to accommodate?” He shrugged. “Things like that are good to know.”
For the love of Mike. Amber shook off the frustration. His request had merit. No need to be unreasonable. “I’m up at six unless I’m called to a scene earlier or I host the morning news the way I did this morning. I go to bed right after the ten o’clock news assuming I haven’t been called out to a scene. I usually leave the television turned on all night.” She glanced at the dark screen hanging on the wall above her fireplace. She imagined that every channel was running stories about her and the murder. “I might be taking a break from that habit for a few days.”
“Understandable.” He cocked an eyebrow. “What about a boyfriend?”
“There is no boyfriend.” Somehow saying it out loud sounded far worse than simply knowing it. She hadn’t been in a serious relationship in more than a year. Maybe there wouldn’t be another one. Who had time? More important, who cared? She had everything she needed. If that’s so, why the sudden need to justify your status?
He made a knowing sound as something like surprise flashed across his face. “A girlfriend then?”
“No girlfriend.”
He made one of those male grunts that
