by Amy Andrews
“I don’t expect you to slum it when there’s a very good bedroom with a full-sized bed right next to mine.” Taylor knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say. Heat flooded her cheeks.
“Exactly,” he murmured, his gaze drifting over her mouth and down to where the gown crossed her cleavage. Taylor’s nipples beaded under his scrutiny and she fought the urge to press her fingers to them to relieve the ache. “Might be safer out here,” he said as his eyes returned to her face.
Taylor knew a good host would have insisted, but Rick made a very good point. She’d been dubious about seeing him tonight and that was before she’d been scared half to death and become so needy. And she’d been more than aware of the vibe between them at dinner. Putting him right next door to her may be a temptation neither of them could resist.
“Okay,” she said. “If you’re sure it’s okay?”
Rick nodded. “I do have one condition.”
Taylor paused, surprised at the addendum. She tried not to think about the many things he could ask for—all of them R-rated, all of them requests she’d probably grant in her current state—because thinking about that wasn’t doing anything for her tight, achy nipples. And she knew he was as aware of them as she was.
“You do?”
He raised his hand again and unfurled it. “You need to take the sleeping pill.”
Taylor relaxed, her shoulders sagging. That she could do. She reached for the pill.
Chapter Four
Three hours later, Taylor was still lying awake in her bed. She might as well have had a Skittle for all the good the sleeping tablet had done.
She had to face it, she was way too wired to sleep.
And she’d never realized how much the apartment creaked before or how eerie the muffled street noises sounded when you were already spooked and your imagination was running wild.
She’d tried closing her eyes a hundred times because she was tired, but sleep remained just out of her reach. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the hatred in her attacker’s and every tiny noise had her heart pounding so loud it felt like she was having a heart attack.
It was strange. Living alone hadn’t bothered her till now. It was one of the things about her move to New York that she’d relished and grown to love. Her own place. And the noises hadn’t bothered her an iota until tonight.
It was so stupid—she knew logically she was safe but she didn’t seem to be able to flick a switch and calm her wildly firing imagination. The police were downstairs, for crying out loud, and Rick was on the couch.
Rick.
That was another thing she was missing right now: having a strong pair of arms around her and soft, full lips brushing her forehead, telling her everything was going to be okay. Sure, Rick had told her that as he’d bidden her goodnight and she knew—she did—that she was safe. But the night was long and eerie, pressing in around her, and she longed for the physical assurance, the overwhelming masculinity and testosterone that a man brought to a bed. The kind that made a woman feel like he’d slay a dragon for her.
She knew it wasn’t very feminist of her to be yearning for the protection of a man, to be lying in bed like a fairy tale princess waiting for a knight on his white steed to charge in and save her, but it hadn’t been a usual day.
Tomorrow she’d be fine. The day would dawn and she’d be strong and she’d pay her penance to the sisters for her weakness. Tonight, she was happy to play the damsel.
Her eyes fluttered closed again as she willed sleep to draw her into its restful folds. Her eyes were heavy and she could feel the tug, she just didn’t seem to be able to grab it. She took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, practicing the relaxation techniques she’d always championed for her patients.
In. Out. In. Out.
And again.
And again.
Repeat. Repeat.
Taylor sighed, feeling herself relax into each breath as they took her closer and closer, finally letting go enough to slide into slumber.
Until a loud clang from somewhere inside the apartment pulled her back with a vicious yank.
She sat bolt upright, her heart thumping again, so hard she swore it was about to leap right out of her chest. She looked wildly from side to side, her dilated pupils tracking the path of shadows, previously familiar and benign, now menacing. The dark closed in around her and she didn’t give a second thought to calling out for help.
“Rick!”
*
Rick cursed as the wail coming from Taylor’s bedroom propelled him from the restroom. And it was a wail. A desperately frightened wail. Her fear was loud enough to be heard several rooms away.
“It’s okay,” he said as he rushed through her door, taking in the wild-eyed woman, hunched over with the sheet pulled up to her chin. He sat down on the bed next to her, holding her arms, putting his face close to hers, waiting until she was looking at him instead of right through him at the imaginary demons that prowled the shadows.
“It’s okay,” he repeated as her body trembled beneath his palms. “It was just me. I bumped something off the bathroom sink in the dark. I didn’t want to put the light on and disturb you.”
Despite his assertion to the contrary, Rick had not slept like a baby. Or otherwise. His hearing had grown acute in the dark and he’d heard her tossing and turning through her open door. Hell, he’d sworn he could hear the occasional stutter of her breathing.
It had not been conducive to sleep.
“It was just you?” she asked, her voice high, laced with anxiety, her blue eyes wide and terrified.
He pulled her to him then, holding her tight against his chest, wrapping her up in his arms and rocking her slightly. Whispering assurances in her ear that everything was okay, that she was safe, that he wouldn’t let anyone harm her.
Rocking her until her trembling stopped and her heart, pulsing madly against his ribs, settled, her breathing changing to a deeper, easier pattern. He pulled away gently.
“You okay, now?”
Taylor nodded. “I’m so sorry. I promise I won’t be such a mess in the morning.”
Rick shook his head. “No. Don’t apologize. You’ve been through a really frightening experience. It’s fine.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Are you going to be okay to go back to sleep now?”
Taylor gave a harsh laugh. “Sleep. What sleep?”
“Pill not work?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Would a warm milk or something like that help?”
She shook her head again. “I doubt it.”
“I could make you one?” Rick pulled away again. “You never know?”
“No, wait.” She reached for him and the edge of panic was back in her voice. Her fingers landed on his bicep and Rick felt the caress right down to his toes. “Could you stay with me tonight?”
His heart banged in his chest as the air seemed to thicken between them. “In your—the room?”
She shook her head and her glossy chestnut hair swung enticingly around shoulders that were bare except for shoestring straps. “In the bed.”
Rick swallowed. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, I know that sounds crazy.” Her hand dropped from his arm and he was both relieved and disappointed. “And I promise I’m not trying to come on to you. I’m not asking for anything … sexual. I just need you to hold me.”
She turned pleading eyes on him. Eyes that begged him to understand. “I’m sorry, I’m just too freaked out to be alone.”
Rick knew he should say no. He knew that. He should offer to bring in a lounge chair and sleep beside the bed. Hell, he could even offer to sleep on top of the bed if the chair wasn’t good enough. But he understood what she needed from him. What she was asking for.
She needed the type of comfort that could only be provided by skin on skin. The type that men, with their bigger, stronger bodies, had been affording women ever since Cro-Magnon man roamed the earth. The type that said, You
are woman and I will protect you.
And he knew that wasn’t an easy thing for an independent woman like Taylor to ask for. But events like tonight tended to bring out the primitive in a lot of people.
He smiled at her. “It’s fine. Of course.” He lifted the corner of the bedding and climbed under. “I’ll stay.” He shuffled into the middle of the bed, opening his arms to her.
She didn’t need any prompting, melting against his chest, clinging to him, her body plastered down his side, their hips aligning, her legs stretching down his length, foot rubbing absently over the top of his.
She sighed and a jolt hit him square in the groin.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest, her warm lips brushing a muscle, then she yawned and said, “See,” her voice light and drifty. “I’m already half asleep.”
“Good,” Rick murmured, her perfume engulfing him in a raft of hot memories, the slide of black satin over his skin reminding him how good they’d always been between the sheets.
He lay still, hardly daring to breathe, and was gratified to feel her growing heavy against him very quickly.
It was good to know that at least one of them was going to sleep.
*
Taylor woke slowly the next morning, engulfed in warmth and a sense of peace. It was still dark beyond her eyelids so she let her mind meander up through the layers of sleep, enjoying the drift, reveling in the serenity.
She felt good. Really good. Rested and strong.
She let out a deep breath and stretched languorously, shrinking into a ball again as she snuggled back into all the delicious heat and warmth behind her.
Heat and warmth?
Her eyes opened. Suddenly she was wide awake, as everything came crashing back to her.
Rick. Dinner. The stalker. The cops.
Being totally and utterly freaked out.
Rick.
Taylor didn’t dare move as she tuned in to his slow, steady breathing. He was asleep. No doubt after her damsel-in-distress display last night he was even more exhausted than she had been.
She cringed, thinking about how needy she’d been, and her heart beat a little faster at what a fool she’d made of herself. She was going to need to do some major repair work today. She didn’t want Rick going back to LA and telling everyone she was jumping at her own shadow.
He shifted slightly and she sucked in a breath, the clean male smell of him dazzling her inside their warm cocoon, making her aware of him.
Now she was only conscious of the rasp of his whiskers at her nape and the goose bumps that marched across her skin in waves from the point of contact. The heaviness of the bandaged arm he’d thrown possessively around her waist and the splay of his fingers as they rested on the flat of her belly. The heat and power of his thigh muscles behind her as his body spooned hers.
His nakedness hit her also. Last night, when he’d raced into her room, when she’d reached for him and he’d pulled her close, the fact that he’d only been wearing a pair of boxers hadn’t been a consideration inside her panicked brain. But now, the heat of his warm, bare flesh seemed to burn through the satin of her gown.
And then she became aware of something else. Something much more fascinating.
A hardness pressed into her, nestling against the cheeks of her bottom. Long and thick. And very much awake.
Her breath hitched in her chest. She squeezed her thighs together as she remembered the things Rick could do with that particular piece of his anatomy. Her nipples tightened and rubbed against the satin of her gown as the memories grew more heated. The muscles in her belly tensed beneath his hand and she fought against the urge to turn in his arms and kiss him awake.
Don’t be an idiot, she lectured herself. He’s only here because you asked him. He’s doing you a favor. He’s not even aware of his arousal—he’s asleep. It’s just a normal, healthy response from a male who is a slave to his diurnal rhythms.
You told him it wasn’t sexual.
Taylor’s mind waged war with her body. She shouldn’t be thinking this way—this was Rick. But the events of last night had eroded the wariness she’d felt about being around him. And she couldn’t deny it felt good to have all that raw heat and sheer male strength wrapped around her. Felt good to have a man in her bed again.
And Rick was one hell of a man.
Would it be so bad to get a little closer?
Before she could stop herself, Taylor shifted against him, pressing closer to the hardness that seared into the flesh of her backside. It felt so good a whimper rose within her and she bit down on her lip to prevent it from tumbling out.
Her heart thundered, her ribs reverberating madly to the beat. She lay motionless and barely breathing within the circle of his arms, praying she hadn’t woken him with her audacity. Not daring to risk any movement that might disturb him further.
But still she was conscious of his arousal—even if he wasn’t. Conscious of her own arousal. Of the thrum in her blood, the heat coursing through her belly, the tingle and the tightness in her nipples and parts further south.
Conscious that she wanted more.
Taylor’s resistance ebbed as the thrum took over, and she angled her hips, rubbing against him slightly, seeking release from the ache between her legs that had morphed into a roar.
“Taylor, you’re killing me.” Rick’s voice almost gave her a heart attack.
It took several seconds for Taylor’s brain to engage. “I … I’m …”
Not the most witty comeback.
He was silent for a long moment and Taylor wished she could disappear into the mattress. He sighed. “A man can only take so much.”
His breath was warm against her shoulder blade and the brush of his mouth and whiskers was erotic and titillating all in one.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice finally returning.
More silence and then, when she thought he was going to reject her apology, she felt the touch of his lips at her nape. Light, but very definitely purposeful.
“Don’t be,” he said as his fingers drifted up from her belly. “I’m not.”
Taylor’s breath caught. His lips feathered their way up the side of her neck as his hand crept inexorably toward her ribs. “You’re … not?”
“No,” he murmured, his breath warm against the lobe of her ear, his fingers grazing the swell of her breasts as they strained against the confines of satin at her cleavage.
“I know it isn’t wise, but I want you, Taylor.”
His tongue traced the shell of her ear as his hand fitted more fully over a breast and she gasped. Her eyes shut. They really shouldn’t do this.
It wasn’t wise.
But she didn’t seem to be able to stop it either. She opened her eyes.
“I want you, too.”
And then she was turning in his arms, and his lips found hers and the rest of the world faded to black. There was just Rick and his mouth and his heat and his strength, wrapping round her, cocooning her, bringing her body to life, reminding her what it felt like to be a woman.
This, she remembered. This, she needed.
And she got totally lost in it. Immersed in the soft authority of his mouth and the potent thrust of his tongue, the caged lust in every tremble of the muscles holding her close.
She was lost and she never wanted to find her way back again.
Except the jangling of the phone beside her bed had other ideas. It ripped her right out of the sexual stupor as potently as if it had been a bucket of cold water. She groped for it blindly as her lust-drunk body scrambled to function.
“Hello?”
“Dr. Hayes, it’s Bob in the lobby, there are two detectives down here wishing to speak with you.”
Taylor blinked. Detectives. Right. “Send them up,” she said, then replaced the receiver in its cradle.
“Saved by the bell,” Rick murmured.
Taylor glanced at him. He didn’t look any more grateful to fate for intervening than she did.
Chapter Five
Taylor spent a long time with the detectives, going over the same stuff from the previous night. No, she didn’t know anyone who wanted to harm her. It was dark, she was frightened. He was white, average height, average size, black hair—nothing stood out except the hatred in his eyes.
Rick concurred.
Yes, she’d gotten a sense of vague familiarity about him at one point but after racking her brain, she couldn’t come up with anybody. They both went through books of mug shots but nobody stood out and, an hour and a half later, Taylor was so exhausted she was finding it difficult to take in everything the police were telling her.
Of course, Rick prowling around her apartment being distracting in his jeans and T-shirt wasn’t helping either.
“Do you understand what we’re saying?” the tall thin detective asked.
Taylor dragged her gaze away from Rick and placed it firmly on the police officer. “You haven’t caught him yet. You don’t think he’s a stalker, you think he’s been bearing a grudge against me and he just got lucky. You have certain promising leads. You want me to keep a low profile until he’s apprehended.”
The detective smiled at her efficient summation. “Yes.”
In her peripheral vision, Taylor could see Rick over by the window but she kept her attention firmly on the two men sitting opposite her. “When you say low profile, what exactly do you mean?”
“Do only the things you must do but otherwise stay at home. You have a secure building, the lobby is manned twenty-four-seven and no one can get into the elevator unless they’re residents, staff or have direct phone permission from you. You need to stay out of the public eye as much as possible and when you do go out, try not to go alone.”
The police officer glanced at Rick then back to her. “Having company will help protect you.”
“So you’re not keeping a police presence here?”
“We really do think from everything you and witnesses have described that this was an isolated event and we’re confident that he’ll be under arrest very quickly.”
