He nodded shortly.

"Are you going to San Francisco tomorrow?"

He frowned. "Hell, no."

"Why not?"

He passed a hand over his face. His dark shadow of a beard was prominent, this late in the day...or rather, this early in the morning. It was after two o'clock. He, too, looked weary. "I'm going to talk to the cops tomorrow," he said. "I don't know if they've made the connection between your breakin and the attack tonight and the fact that Sheldon Barnes knows you."

His words reminded her of what deep shit she was in, and she gulped the wine.

"They need to know he may have changed his appearance," he told her. "And that he may be still here in the LA area."

She nodded. Then she carefully set the wine glass down on her bedside table. "I'll see you out," she said quietly. "So I can lock up behind you. And I'll need to disarm the alarm so you can get out."

He just looked at her. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll sleep on your couch. I'm not leaving you here alone."

"That's why I got the alarm," she protested. "You don't have to stay."

"I'm staying."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Fine," she huffed out, flopping back on the pillows. "But you'll have to sleep on the couch. My spare bedroom is an office."

"I can sleep on the couch. Just tell me where I can find a pillow and a blanket."

She started to get out of bed, but he pushed her back down without much apparent effort on his part. "I'll find it," he said mildly. "Just tell me where."

"But--"

"You are one stubborn, independent woman," he marveled. "Is it that you don't like me telling you what to do? Or are you just ornery?"

She glared at him. "Both," she snapped.

He grinned. She couldn't help but smile back and suddenly she was reliving how exciting and fun flirting with him had been. Awareness that they were alone in her bedroom and she was dressed only in her skimpy underwear hit her low in the belly.

Warmth slid over her, starting in her cheeks, down over her throat and chest, and she slowly pulled the duvet up under her chin, pressing back into the pillow.

"Don't worry, Marli." He touched her cheek, then stroked a strand of hair back off her face. "You know I'd love nothing more than to get in that bed with you, but this is not the time. I know that."

She nodded, eyes still fastened on his. "I know," she whispered. "But if it wasn't a bad time, I'd love it, too."

His eyes darkened. "God, you shouldn't say things like that."

"Oh, Jesus, I know." She closed her eyes. "I can't help it. I just say things. And it comes across all wrong."

"And what was the right way for that comment to come across?"

When she opened her eyes, she saw his face still tight with control, but one brow was raised and humor glimmered in his dark eyes. She smiled slowly back at him.

His fingers continued to stroke her hair back from her face and it was so sexy, yet soothing, warm sensation sliding over her. Her eyes drooped with fatigue. "There are blankets and a pillow in the closet in my office. The room next door." She yawned. "I'm sorry...I feel I should get it for you."

He touched her mouth, smiling at her yawn. "I can find it. Go to sleep. You must be wiped."

He turned out the lamp beside her bed and left the room quietly. She could hear him in the room next door, getting things out of the closet. When he walked by her door, she called out.

"Trey?"

He stopped in the doorway, his big body a dark, solid silhouette. Reassuring.

"Could you leave my door open a little wider? And leave the hall light on?"

He nodded and pushed the door open. She heard his heavy steps going down to the living room and then she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

She might have been asleep for two hours or two minutes when a loud wailing noise pierced her consciousness. For a moment, she tried to figure out what it was. Then her heart jumped into her throat and she bolted up in bed.

Her new alarm was going off.

Chapter 7

What the... She pushed her hair back from her face and held her head. Then she remembered.

"Trey!" She scrambled out from under the covers, terror gripping her in a frigid clasp. He was down there. She dashed out of the room, oblivious to the fact she was half-naked. In her haste, her bare foot snagged on the carpet and she tripped. She grabbed the railing, caught herself, hair falling in her face, then stumbled down the rest of the stairs.

The front door was still secure. Blankets were in a heap on the floor and Trey was nowhere to be seen. Her glance ricocheted around the room, then she lurched into her kitchen. The back door stood open, the cool night air blowing in and raising goose bumps on her bare skin. She ran to the door and grabbed it, using it to hold herself up, her legs shaky, knees weak.

"God, no," she whimpered looking out into the darkness. Frantically she searched her small dark yard for Trey, but saw nothing. "Oh. Oh, no."

She grabbed the cordless phone off the charger on the counter and, with fingers shaking almost uncontrollably, she punched in 911, running back out onto her deck to scan the yard. She was gasping out answers to the operator's calm questions when Trey appeared on the steps of the deck.

"Son of a bitch." He bent at the waist, panting. "He got away." He lifted his head and looked at her. "Get back in the house, for God's sake. You have no clothes on."

She looked down at herself, then back at him. "Who cares? Jesus, you're bossy."

"Marli, someone just tried to break into your house. Again. Listen to me."

She backed up, and he came toward her, slamming the door shut behind him. It bounced open again. The lock had been damaged so it wouldn't close. "Shit," he muttered.

The alarm was still wailing. "Is it connected to the police?" he asked as she scurried to the control panel.

"Yes. I already called them." She punched in the code, this time remembering it, and silence descended.

She looked at Trey as she hung up the phone. "I can't believe this," she whispered. She covered her face with her hands. "I just cannot believe this."

He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "God, Marli, it's okay. You're okay, and I'm here. And I'm not leaving. I don't care what you say."

That was fine with her. She might have protested earlier, but now? No way. He could stay forever.

"After the cops come, I'm going to nail the door shut for tonight," he said. "We'll get you a new door tomorrow. And on second thought, I'm not staying here tonight."

Her heart dropped to her toes. "You're...you're not?"

He shook his head. "And neither are you. I'm taking you back to my hotel with me. Even with an alarm this place isn't safe."

"He won't try again tonight. He can't be that stupid." She was afraid even to think about going to Trey's hotel room with him.

"No, he's not stupid," he agreed. "And he likely won't try again tonight. Even so, we're leaving. Get dressed."

Man, he liked to give orders. Funny, she'd never noticed that about him when they'd been talking and laughing at Cactus Jack's. But put the man in a crime scene and he was spouting commands and orders all over the place. She did what he said, though, his forceful, self-assured presence only adding to the sense of security she felt with him.


Trey dealt with the police, boarded her back door shut, and then carried the small duffel bag she'd packed for the night out to her car. He drove back to Cactus Jack's. The neon sign was dark, the bar closed.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

"Getting my vehicle. Barnes probably knows your car, so I don't want to take it to the hotel."

He parked her car on the street in front of his, and they got into his car and drove the few blocks to the Rocky Harbor Inn. They walked through the deserted lobby to the elevators.

They rode up in silence. He was intensely aware of her in the elevator, images of her in her white lace bra and panties flashing through his mind. Diamonds flashing in the shallow indentation of her navel. Jesus. That was not where his mind should be right now. There was a lunatic killer after her. And it was his fault.

He slid his key card in and out and shoved down on the lever to open the door. He hit the switch on the wall and a lamp illuminated the dark space.

The king-size bed dominated the room, but a small, nicely furnished sitting area occupied a corner in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Sliding doors opened onto a small balcony looking out over the Pacific Ocean. Fronds of a palm tree swayed just next to the second-floor balcony railing.

The sky was the deep, intense dark blue that preceded dawn. Man, what a night.

He turned to Marli, dropping her bag onto the dresser. He moved over to her.

"You're amazing," he said. She'd been through worse than he had and was still standing. She was pale and kept swallowing convulsively, but she was hanging in there.

"No, I'm not," she whispered.

When he touched his mouth to hers, she looked up at him with huge eyes, their sparkle dimmed by fatigue.

"We both need to get some sleep." He unzipped her black hoodie sweatshirt and pushed it off her shoulders. Underneath, she wore a thin ribbed white tank, the lacy cups of her bra clearly visible through it. He sucked in a breath, trying to remember that sleep was the goal.