by Donna Fasano
There was uncertainty in her words, and the fear emanating from her made Reece feel agitated.
"You can't stay here," he blurted out. "It isn't safe. If someone's getting in without forcing a door or a window, then he must have keys. Did you change the locks?"
Maggie nodded. "And I was going to have it done again this weekend... I'm due to be paid by a client on Friday."
"Maggie, you can't stay here," he repeated. "Is there somewhere you can go? Your parents' house? A brother or sister? A friend? You need to get out of here until you can find out who's doing this." He sat up straighter. "And you have to call the police—"
"No. No police. Believe me, I have my reasons."
She hadn't raised her voice, but the curtness with which she'd cut him off made him sit back and blink.
Her throat muscles tightened as she swallowed. "And I have no place to go." She tipped up her chin. "Besides, I won't be chased out of my own home."
"But this place isn't safe."
Wrapping her fingers around the mug, she squeezed it between her pale hands. "I told you, Reece. I have nowhere to go."
Reece's mind was running a mile a minute. Maggie had been living with this fear for days on end. It was a wonder she wasn't a raving lunatic by now. He felt an urge to help her somehow—an urge that was so overwhelming, it grew and expanded in his mind until it cut off all other thought.
"Then you'll come home with me." The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he'd spoken.
"What? No way," she said.
"You're not safe here."
"And what makes you think I'll be safe with you?"
Their gazes met and locked, and the atmosphere grew suddenly still. Something he wasn't quite able to discern seemed to reach out to envelop him utterly and completely.
Attraction.
What a god-awful time to feel such a thing. It was ridiculous. Almost laughable.
But he wasn't laughing.
And it wasn't because of any physical attraction he felt toward Maggie Dunlap that he was offering her refuge under his roof. The woman was in trouble. And she was afraid. So scared that she was waving a pistol at innocent wildlife.
He inhaled deeply. "Do you really want to spend another night in this house alone?"
Immediately, she tucked her bottom lip between her even white teeth and said nothing. Although she tried to hide it, fear shimmered in every angle of her beautiful face.
He nodded. "Then it's settled."
Chapter 3
"Home, sweet home." Reece pushed open the front door and invited Maggie, with a sweep of his hand, to enter.
The overnight bag she carried held her makeup and toiletries. Every single file she ever kept on her current and past clients had been stuffed in her briefcase and a black leather bag. Reece hefted the leather bag and another, heavier, tapestry canvas one in which she'd hurriedly packed some clothing.
"Come on," he said. "I'll show you the guest room."
She watched him move past her to the stairs, and she followed him up. He was a big man—at least an inch or two over six feet, and his body looked as solid. From the back, his shoulders were broad, his waist trim. His tailored business suit accentuated his build, and Maggie found herself wondering if those trousers hugged his butt beneath the material of his jacket.
Maggie's eyes widened at the risqué thought. The fact that her brain, which had been so filled with anxiety and chaos when Reece had arrived at her home, was in any shape to even notice his physique was all due to Reece himself.
She couldn't believe how he'd succeeded in calming her down during the ride to his home. He'd purposefully talked about mundane things. Maggie had smiled at his funny, often outrageous, experiences as an insurance investigator and the people who tried to dupe the company. Her heart had pinched when he'd spoken of his son and how much he'd missed Jeff, who was off enjoying summer camp. There had seemed to be no end to his friendly banter.
He'd told her about a club of sorts that he and two of his friends had created. Apparently, when they had started out, they had been single guys in need of support and friendship, in parental practices and personal matters. He'd actually grimaced when he'd stated that the other two men now had women in their lives. Maggie could tell there was more to that whole subject, but he didn't elaborate. However, the tone of Reece's voice had proved that he cared deeply about his buddies.
He'd gone on to give her his opinion regarding local politics, and just when she thought he couldn't possibly find anything else to converse about, he'd ended up commenting on the latest television-talk-show topics.
She hadn't been required to say one word during the entire drive. But that hadn't kept her thoughts from churning even as she did her best to pay attention to him.
Maggie should have explained to him all her reasons for refusing to call the police. She should have told him about—
No, she cut off the thought. It would be foolish to tell anyone, especially when she didn't know who she could trust.
It wasn't fair to drag this man any deeper into her dangerous situation. She'd had every intention of refusing his offer of sanctuary. But then, he'd asked her if she wanted to spend another night alone, and her self-preserving instinct had pushed aside all her good intentions.
Finally, she'd allowed herself to become lost in the sound of Reece's voice. His ordinary, everyday conversation had been meant to lull her into a more relaxed state, and his ploy had worked. Maggie couldn't be more grateful for his efforts.
"That's Jeff's room," he said as he passed the first bedroom. "There's the bathroom. The room at the end of the hallway—" he pointed "—is mine, and here's where you'll stay." He stopped just outside the door and tossed a wide grin at her.
However, it wasn't just an ordinary grin—it was an expression filled with so much charm and openhearted welcome that it snatched her breath right from her throat.
She stopped, right there in the hallway. The air felt suddenly thick, and Maggie thought her heart would pound a hole right through her rib cage. It wasn't as if she'd never seen the man smile before; he'd been full of business friendliness and finesse the first time she'd met him in his office. But this was different.
The lines that bracketed his mouth seemed almost fresh, as if smiling was not something he did often. But what that smile, combined with honest emotion, did to his already handsome face! Lord, the man should gift the world with that grin twenty-four hours a day.
His eyes were a dark mahogany in the light thrown by the overhead fixture, and they glittered warmly. Maggie moistened her suddenly dry lips. Why did Reece Newton have to be so darned good-looking?
Good-looking, heck, her brain silently chimed in, the man could make a grown woman drool!
She forced herself to step through the doorway into the room that would be hers for the time being before he could notice she needed to wipe saliva from her chin.
"It's nice," she said. But she didn't really see the room at all. Her brain seemed to be on overload having to deal with that awesome smile. "Thank you—" her voice lowered an octave, and she poured into it every ounce of heartfelt emotion that surged through her "—for everything."
In that instant, she was struck with the revelation of exactly what this man was doing for her. He'd opened up his home to her—a veritable stranger—when she'd had no place else to go. He'd worked hard to make her feel calm and composed... and safe. Feeling overwhelmed with it all, she looked away.
A quivery giddiness had her stomach feeling jumpy as she looked at him through lowered lashes. "I'll try hard to stay out of your way. I don't want to be an inconvenience."
"Nonsense," he said, ushering her into the room and setting the canvas bag down on the floor.
His tone had grown hoarse, and even though he'd only spoken one small word, she could tell that the monumental emotion stirring inside her affected him too. It was as if there was some kind of bond between them now that he'd reached out to her, and that was the last thing
Maggie wanted.
She made a great fuss over placing her briefcase and overnight bag on the upholstered chair that sat in one corner of the room.
"The chest of drawers is empty," Reece said. "And there should be plenty of space in the closet. There're hangers in there too. You'll find clean towels in the linen closet across from the bathroom."
He talked quickly, trying, Maggie knew, to regain that same sense of normalcy he'd conjured on the drive from her house.
"I'll bring fresh sheets for the bed," he went on. "The mattress is firm. I hope you like lots of support."
Reece sat down and gave the edge of the mattress a little bounce, and she knew he was looking at her, waiting for her to offer some sort of response.
"I'm sure it'll be fine." But the words were strained at best. Maggie knew it, and Reece had to notice it too.
Her gaze darted to the bed, and then back up to his face. In the periphery of her vision, she saw him smooth his palm across the spread, and for some reason, that simple action seemed to change everything.
The awkwardness swirled and thickened and metamorphosed into something new, something strangely intimate. Whatever it was, it had Maggie feeling terribly aware of each second that passed, completely perceptive of each move of Reece's body, each breath she herself inhaled.
Obviously, he, too, was cognizant of this... this thing.
And that's exactly how Maggie had identified it—a living, breathing, feeling thing. What the hell?
Reece stood up and moved to the window. The suddenness of his brisk action was like an unexpected snapping of fingers that jerked her to attention. She blinked, and the thing seemed to dissolve into nothingness. The air seemed to clear and was once again breathable.
"Let me get out of here," he told her. "You have some unpacking to do." He looked at his watch. "And I'm due to meet with my buddies. You know, the guys I told you about? I hope you don't mind if I go out for a while...."
"Oh, of course not," she told him, feeling that he couldn't walk out that door fast enough to suit her, yet at the same time, she didn't ever want him to leave. It was such a curious and odd sensation. One that baffled the heck out of her.
With a quick smile and a nod, he was gone.
Maggie didn't move from her spot there by the chair. She stood listening to him descending the stairs, wondering if what she and Reece had experienced just a moment ago had all been conjured by her imagination.
The scary thing was, she knew imagination had absolutely nothing to do with it.
* * *
"So you rode in on your white horse..."
Derrick laughed so hard he had to stop talking. Reece only glared at his friend.
"And scooped up the poor damsel in distress," Derrick was finally able to finish.
Jason couldn't hold back his snickers any longer, and he joined Derrick. "And carried her off to the castle."
"Yeah," Reece growled, "and I hope both of you clowns choke on your beer."
Derrick and Jason tried hard to force serious expressions onto their faces, then made the mistake of catching each other's eyes. Their snickering drew the attention of the other customers in the small sports pub.
"Look, I'm not in the mood, okay?" Reece tipped up the smoky-colored beer bottle and took a long swallow. He tried to focus on the ball game playing on the big-screen TV at the far corner of the room as he asked, "What was I supposed to do? The woman was out of her head. She looked like she hadn't slept in days."
The excuse sounded lame, even to him. He guessed he deserved the jeers and jokes being made about his behavior. But that didn't mean he had to like it. He saw both of them grinning like idiots.
"Hey," he said seriously, "I said I'm not in the—"
"Okay, okay," Jason said, lifting his hand. He nudged Derrick, who was still having trouble getting his humor in check, in the ribs.
As if running interference for Derrick, to give the man a few more seconds to compose himself, Jason went on, "It's just that we never expected something like this from you, Reece."
Reece raked his fingers through his hair. "I know." He heaved a deep breath. "I'm pretty surprised myself." His next sigh was powerful enough to puff out his cheeks.
Finally, Derrick was able to ask a serious question. "What about Jeff?"
"Yeah, Reece," Jason added. "If this woman's in some kind of trouble, is it at all possible that you and Jeff might get caught in the middle of something bad? Something… dangerous?"
Reece had thought long and hard about his eight-year-old son. Jeff was his main priority in life. He loved the child, and he'd never do anything that might jeopardize Jeff's safety.
"Well," Reece said, "Jeff will be at camp until the weekend after next—"
"Yeah," Derrick said. "Timmy hasn't stopped talking about the camp." He shook his head, grinning. "He was pretty bummed out about not being old enough to go this year."
"So—" Jason directed his comment at Reece "—that gives you less than two weeks to solve this woman's problem and get her out of your house before Jeff gets back."
The waitress approached their table. "You fellas ready for another round?"
"Sure, Gale," Jason said. "But just one more, then I gotta be going. Gina's got the sniffles, poor thing, and Katie's with her. I shouldn't stay much longer."
Reece and Derrick both nodded.
"Reece—" Derrick leaned toward his friend, his countenance the epitome of sincere concern "—you know, don't you, that this lady you've got staying in your spare bedroom is probably hiding something."
The final two words had Jason grinning.
"Very funny," Reece growled, not a hint of humor in his voice.
The other two men finally surrendered to their laughter. Reece suffered through it, knowing that Derrick's ribbing wasn't meant to hurt his feelings. Derrick was only repeating the very warning Reece himself had given to both of his friends. Reece had warned Derrick about Anna's intentions all those months ago.
And now Anna was Derrick's wife, a tiny voice reminded Reece.
Reece had even warned Jason about Katie just a few short weeks ago. He wanted desperately to point out that he'd been dead right where Katie was concerned—she had been hiding her true identity from Jason. But he refused to lower himself to his friends' level by bringing it up. Besides, Jason and Katie had seemed to work things out so well, what with the fact that they were up to their necks in wedding plans. Yes, he decided, things were okay between them.
So far.
The trouble with Maggie Dunlap, Reece told himself as he silently got back to the matter at hand, was that she was hiding something. She must have some idea of who was stalking her, breaking into her house, destroying her property, scaring the hell out of her. As soon as he got home, he would demand that she open up and tell him everything she knew or suspected. He couldn't possibly help her if she didn't open up a little.
"Yep," Jason jeered, "we've heard it from you for years, Reece. Every woman in the world is up to something."
"Look, guys," Reece said. "I don't have to sit here and take this."
He knew the guys were just trying to get under his skin about his helping Maggie. And if he weren't so preoccupied with the woman, he would probably even enjoy their good-natured ribbing. But he simply had too much on his mind.
Reece felt utterly baffled by the sheer magnetism that seemed to draw him toward her. Every time he'd been alone with her—in his office last week, earlier today at her house and, most especially, tonight in the guest bedroom of his own home—there had been some force, some powerful energy that had captivated his attention. She'd felt it, too; he'd read it in her eyes, heard it in her strained voice. Luckily, this meeting with his friends had given him the perfect excuse to bolt.
Hell, the very last thing he needed was a woman messing up his life!
The waitress set down three bottles of beer on the table along with their check before hurrying to the next table to take an order.
"And if this Maggie Dun
lap is as distrusting of the opposite sex as you say she is," Derrick said to Reece between chuckles, "then the two of you are so alike it's freaky."
"All right, that's it," Reece proclaimed. "I've taken enough ribbing about this. I'm outta here."
He pushed his chair back, tossed some bills on the table and headed for the door.
"Aw, I think we made him mad," Jason said.
Derrick nodded his head. "I think you're right."
For one brief moment on the way to the door, Reece's chaotic mind calmed and he nearly chuckled when he heard Jason shoot back, "But since it looks like he is leaving, I've got dibs on his beer."
"Hey—"
The sound of Derrick hailing him had Reece glancing back toward the table.
"You're not using our little joking session here as an excuse to get mad, are you? So you can run home to Maggie?"
The angry scowl that filled Reece's face was genuine.
"Hell, no!" he roared. He pushed his way out the door and into the parking lot, his friends' laughter echoing in his ears all the way to his car.
* * *
Maggie stretched in the padded lounge chair, luxuriating in cool, salt-scented morning breeze coming off the bay. She'd slept well last night, awoken refreshed for the first time in... she couldn't remember how many days.
The expanse of blue-green water before her lent a serene quality to the morning; however, that was only one of the reasons Maggie felt in such a good mood. Another was the safe haven that Reece had provided her with.
"Good morning."
She smiled up at Reece as he came through the French door and joined her on the deck outside.
"Hi," she said.
Rather than a business suit, today he wore olive-colored casual dress pants and a striped, short-sleeved cotton shirt. He looked good, she noted before dragging her eyes back up to his freshly shaved face. And his cologne, a scent reminiscent of hot and spicy nights, smelled wonderful.
Obviously, he noticed her appraisal of him, and she felt her face grow warm.
"It's Friday," he said, explaining his less formal attire. "Everyone follows the office custom of dressing down on the last work day of the week."
