Watch Me (The Donovan Family Book 2)

by Margaret Watson

  She leaned back and a tiny smile curved her mouth. Her eyes twinkled. "Aren't those supposed to be the woman's lines, Donovan? Aren't I supposed to be the one who wants to talk about it? The one who asks if you'll respect me in the morning?"

  He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her again. "I'd respect the hell out of you in the morning. But I wouldn't respect myself." He settled next to her, his arm around her shoulder, his fingers stroking the smooth skin beneath the sleeve of her shirt. "We met because some guy broke into your apartment and did nasty things. I was the responding officer. Not the way I like to meet women."

  "You won't be the responding officer tomorrow, though. Right?" She turned to look at him, and the soft red waves of her hair brushed his cheek.

  "No, I won't. I'm a homicide detective. Your case will get turned over to robbery. Once I finish my paperwork, I'll be done."

  He felt the sudden tension in her muscles. "So I won't see you again."

  He bent his head to look at her. "Do you want to see me? You said you don't date cops." He wanted to know why. Wanted to change her mind.

  "I don't." She stared at her hands in her lap, and her waves of red hair hid her face. "But I want to see you again. Maybe we could just be...just be friends. You know, nothing serious."

  What exactly did she mean? "Not sure the whole 'just friends' thing would work," he said carefully. "I know we just met, I know the circumstances were ugly, I know you're still shaken up. But I want you, Tessa. I won't pretend I don't."

  She took his hand and laced their fingers together, finally lifting her head. Her eyes were clear. Soft. "You're an honorable man, Quinn Donovan," she murmured. "I appreciate that. Appreciate that you put the brakes on tonight. But the truth is, I want you, too."

  "Lot of wanting going on here," he said. "But we're putting that on hold tonight." He squeezed her hand, let her go and stood up. "Do you want to go to a hotel? I'll help you find one if you do."

  Tessa looked at the police officer who'd been a complete stranger until a few hours ago. Okay, not a complete stranger. Before tonight, he'd been a hot guy with an amazing body. Now, he was a real person. He was trying to take care of her. Trying to make sure she felt safe. Warmth slid through her.

  "Not sure I want to go to a hotel," she said slowly, glancing around the living room then looking at Quinn again. "It's kind of like getting back on the horse, you know? If I don't face this now, it's going to be harder tomorrow night. Worse the night after that."

  Quinn smiled. "You have a lot of courage, Tessa."

  "Not as much as you think." She shivered as she thought about Brian, her ex-fiance. The reason she didn't do ‘relationships’. Or date cops. About how she’d let herself want Brian. Need him.

  About how badly that had turned out.

  Not the time to think about Brian. She forced herself to focus on the present. "I totally freaked out when I walked into my bedroom tonight. Completely lost it."

  His smile disappeared as he stroked her cheek. She began to lean into his touch, but he backed away. "That just means you're normal. You're allowed to freak out. Someone violated your home. Did disturbing things in it." He reached out to touch her again but curled his fingers into his palm instead. "You want me to drive you to a friend's house?"

  She shook her head. "Too late. I'll stay here tonight."

  "Want me to stay with you?"

  Heat swept through her and her body cried 'yes!'. But he was right – tonight wasn't the time to make those kinds of decisions. "I'll...I'll be fine."

  "I didn't mean sleeping with you. I told you I'd stay on the couch, and I meant it. I want you to be comfortable."

  Her gaze darted to the gun beneath his left arm. He smiled. "I don't think the guy is coming back tonight, but it might be easier to sleep, knowing there's someone with a gun between you and the door."

  She didn't want to seem weak. Needy. But if she were here alone, she'd be awake all night, listening for someone at the door. "I hate to ask you to do that." She sighed. "But yeah. Having you and your gun here will make me feel better." Having him next to her in bed would be even more awesome.

  "Then I'm staying. Won't be the first time I've slept on a couch."

  "Thank you." She pulled a set of sheets and a blanket out of a closet, smoothed her hand over the sheets as she imagined them against his body, then went into her bedroom for a pillow. "I'm sure I have a new toothbrush somewhere. Let me set it out and get you a towel."

  "Tessa, you don't have to go to so much trouble."

  She turned around. "And you don't have to stay here and sleep on my uncomfortable couch. Or is that one of the services that the Chicago Police Department provides – overnight babysitting for nervous women?"

  "CPD has nothing to do with it," he said, his voice gruff. "And just for the record, I've never done this before with a vic...someone I've answered a call for."

  A tiny laugh bubbled up in her throat. "Since you're a homicide detective, there's probably not a lot of call for babysitting your usual victims," she said.

  "Not only beautiful, but a smart ass, too," he said lightly. "The perfect woman."

  Heat swept over her face as she turned and hurried into the bathroom. Things would be different in the daylight. Everything would feel more normal. More real. She wouldn't be so unsettled that she was actually yearning to have wild sex with a man she'd just met.

  Her hands shook a little as she put a toothbrush and towel on the edge of her sink. When she went back into the living room, he was standing in the same place. "Good night, Quinn," she said. "I really appreciate this."

  "Not a problem, Tessa."

  She waited until he'd used the bathroom, then avoided his gaze as she re-entered the room and closed the door. It took longer than usual to go through her nightly routine, and she knew why. Even with Quinn in the other room, she dreaded going into her bedroom.

  When she finally forced herself to open the bathroom door and walk into her bedroom, she glanced at the couch on the way. Quinn had set his jacket, pants and shirt on the chair and was sprawled on the cushions. The blanket had slipped down to reveal his white tee shirt clinging to hard muscles in his back and shoulders. His eyes were closed, and his dark hair was mussed, as if he'd run his fingers through it. She remembered how it felt. Thick but soft. Silky. So touchable.

  Instead of walking toward him, as every cell in her body yearned to do, she turned and headed into her bedroom. She should be ashamed of herself. Yes, Quinn was the man she'd fantasized about for the last couple of weeks. And the real man was even more attractive than her fantasy lover. But that was no excuse for jumping him like she was out of control. Like she was desperate.

  For all she knew, he was just being kind. Trying to comfort her. Distract her from what she'd found when she got home from work.

  Although he'd seemed as interested in kissing her as she was in kissing him.

  She left the light on as she undressed, pulling yesterday's tank top and boxers out of her laundry basket. She couldn't look at the dresser, not even to get a new set of bed clothes. Not yet.

  In the morning, things would be easier. In the daylight, her room wouldn't be so claustrophobic. The memories of walking in, of realizing that someone had been in here, would fade in the sunlight. She'd be able to put them in the back of her mind.

  Tonight, though, she was glad Quinn was sleeping on her couch. Glad she wasn't alone. It made it easier to crawl into bed and turn off the light.

  ***

  She shot upright in the darkness, her breath sawing in and out, her throat sore. She forced herself to open her eyes, to peer around her shadowed bedroom.

  No one stood in the doorway, watching her. There was no one in the closet, no face outside her window.

  She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Of course there wasn't. She lived on the third floor. There was no way anyone could be outside her window.

  It had been a dream. A terrifying, paralyzing dream. That was all.

  "Te
ssa?" The low voice came from the other side of her door.

  She swallowed a scream just in time, remembering. The break-in. Quinn Donovan. Sleeping on her couch.

  "It's okay, Quinn," she said, appalled at how shaky she sounded. "Just a bad dream."

  There was a beat of silence. Then Quinn said, "You want some company?"

  God, yes. "Maybe...maybe for a minute."

  Quinn opened the door and stepped into her room. His white tee shirt was wrinkled and he wore dark knit boxers slung low on his hips. He crouched on the floor next to the bed, far enough away that she couldn't reach for him.

  She wanted to. Wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to be reminded that she was safe.

  But she knew what would happen if he touched her. So she curled her fingers into the sheet pooled in her lap.

  "You want to talk about it?" He kept his gaze on her face, even though her tank top was twisted on her body, revealing more than she'd like. She pulled the sheet up to cover herself.

  She shrugged. "About what you'd expect. Someone in the doorway. In the closet. Outside my window." She forced herself to smile. "That's when I realized it was a dream. No way was anyone outside my window."

  He put one hand on her sheet to balance himself. "I'm sorry, Tessa. And I'm glad I stayed. You want a glass of water? Milk or something?"

  She wanted him, next to her in the bed, so she'd have someone to hold onto if she had another nightmare. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

  "Think you can go back to sleep?"

  "I'll try." She swallowed, and saw his eyes on her throat. "Thanks, Quinn. I'm glad you were here."

  "Me, too." He stood up, and even in the dim light, she saw the erection tenting his boxers. "You want me to leave the door open? It'd be easier to hear if you have another dream."

  She didn't have to worry that he'd wander in during the night. Even though she'd only met him tonight, she trusted him. "Thanks," she said.

  "Good night, Tessa," he said softly.

  She listened to him walk back to the living room. She heard the rustle of the sheets as he lay back down, the blanket shift as he rolled over. Then rolled back.

  He was trying to get comfortable. Trying to ignore the erection that had been so obvious. Finally his movements stopped, but she was equally restless. Trying not to think about him, lying in her living room, aroused. Aching the same way she was. Trying not to think about what she'd do if he wasn't in the next room.

  It took a long time before she fell back to sleep.

  Chapter 5

  The insistent blare of a car alarm yanked Tessa out of sleep. She shot upright in bed, her heart pounding, and looked frantically around the room. Then she saw the pale sunlight out her window, and realized it was early morning. Far earlier than she usually woke up.

  She lay back down and drew the sheet up to her shoulders, then rolled over to settle into sleep again. That's when she spotted the open drawer of her dresser.

  And remembered.

  She tugged on the light blanket bunched at the foot of her bed over her shoulders to stop the sudden shivering. Someone had broken in to her apartment. Rummaged through her drawers. Done disgusting things to her underwear.

  And her sexy neighbor from the next building was asleep on her couch. Unless he'd gone home, figuring she'd be safe in the daylight.

  No. Somehow, even after just meeting Quinn last night, she knew he wouldn't sneak out of her apartment in the morning after he'd promised to stay.

  She wanted to go back to sleep. It was only...she glanced at her clock...eight AM. But the memories of last night were crowding back, and she wasn't going to fall asleep again.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to pretend like none of it had happened. Pretend she'd been in a hurry yesterday as she dressed for work and had simply left the drawer open herself.

  That didn't work, either. So Tessa threw the sheet and blanket to the end of the bed and stood up. Carefully avoiding the open drawer, she padded into the hall and stopped to watch Quinn sleeping on her couch.

  The living room sweltered with heat, and the air was heavy. Stifling. Quinn had kicked his bedding to the floor, and she found herself staring at the dark blue cotton of his boxers. It hugged the taut muscles of his ass, hinted at the crevice in the middle, caressed the indentation on the side of his hip that she wanted to explore. How would the dark hair on his arms and legs feel against her bare skin?

  Get a grip. God! She was ogling a sleeping man. A man who'd done her a huge favor by sleeping on her lumpy, uncomfortable couch. Forcing herself to look away, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind her.

  Twenty minutes later, showered and ready for the day, she wrapped a towel around herself and opened the door. Stupid to forget her robe, but she'd been too distracted by the sight of Quinn, asleep on her couch.

  He wasn't sleeping anymore. He sat on the couch, dressed, with the sheets and blanket neatly folded at the end of the couch.

  She stood frozen in front of him, clutching at the towel. "Um, hi. Sorry if I woke you up. I know it's really early, especially since we didn't get to sleep until late last night." Her hand tightened on the towel between her breasts as she felt heat sweep up her chest and over her face. "I'll, ah, get dressed. Okay? Be right out."

  "Take your time," Quinn said, his voice husky and his eyes dark. "I'll be here."

  She hurried into her room and shut the door, then leaned against it, waiting for the embarrassed heat to dissipate. God. She'd sounded like a teen-aged girl, all flustered because there was a man in her apartment.

  Remembering the way he'd looked at her, his eyes darkening, his cheeks flushed, wasn't doing anything to help her settle down. She ripped the towel off her body, then automatically glanced at the window across the way.

  She didn't have to worry about being naked in her room, she reminded herself. The only neighbor who could have seen her was sitting in her living room.

  And she wouldn't mind at all if he saw her naked.

  In fact, she hoped he would.

  She pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. The shock of last night had clearly unhinged her. She was hoping her neighbor saw her naked? She'd just met him last night. She barely knew him. And to top it off, he was a cop.

  A subset of men she'd vowed never to get involved with again.

  She turned abruptly to her dresser for underwear and froze at the sight of that open drawer. No. She could not reach her hand inside that drawer and grab a pair of boy shorts as if nothing had happened. She couldn't put those bits of silk on her body.

  She'd buy new ones today. For now, it would have to be commando.

  She grabbed a bra out of another drawer, then tugged on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Combed her still-wet hair and straightened her shoulders.

  Time to face Quinn Donovan and thank him for his help. Express her appreciation that he'd stayed and slept on her couch. Then figure out what to do with this attraction that boiled between them.

  It would be easy to dismiss it as a reaction to stress. Except that he faced stress every day in his job and he'd made it clear that this had never happened with another crime victim.

  She had a stressful job, as well. But every time things got rough on the floor, she didn't try to jump some random guy's bones. Didn't fantasize about him, either.

  Of course, she had seen Quinn naked. So her fantasies were understandable. Especially after meeting him in person and finding out he was a really nice guy.

  Nice guy. Hot body. Raging hormones. Could it get any better?

  Yeah, it could. She could drag him into her bedroom to fulfill all her fantasies. Some of his, too. She'd seen the way his eyes had darkened and his face had flushed when he touched her. The way his hands had trembled. The bulge beneath his zipper.

  No. She was going to go into her living room and act like none of that had happened last night. That he was a neighbor helping her out. That he was probably embarrassed by last night, just like she was.

>   But first she'd put on a little make-up. Just mascara and lip gloss.

  Five minutes later, she took a deep breath and opened the door. Her gaze headed straight for the couch, but he wasn't there. Had he left? Even though he'd told her he'd be here?

  Then she heard noises coming from her kitchen – the gurgle of water in her coffeemaker, the sound of the refrigerator opening, the clang of silverware on the kitchen table.

  Two mugs stood on the counter next to the coffeemaker, and he was rummaging in her refrigerator like he belonged there. Finally he stood, closed the door and turned to face her. "Hey," he said. "Good morning."

  "Hey, yourself. And is it a good morning? This is way earlier than I usually get up." Way to go. Scare him away with crabby, hasn't-had-her-coffee-yet-Tessa.

  "Yeah, me, too." He shrugged. "Woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."

  "Me, either." The coffee was finished, so she poured herself a cup. "I'm assuming you want some of this?"

  His eyes twinkled. "I'm guessing you're not a morning person."

  Tessa lifted her mug and inhaled the steam. It had to have a little caffeine in it. "In the spirit of full disclosure, no. I'm not. Not until I've had some coffee." She set the mug on the counter. "Sometimes not even then."

  "Got it. Give you coffee in the morning and keep my mouth shut."

  Tessa raised her eyes from the rim of her cup and stared at him. Was he implying that there would be more mornings when they woke up together? More mornings spent in the same kitchen? Her heart began to pound, so loud she was certain he could hear it.

  Her hands not quite steady, she poured him a mug and passed it to him. His fingers brushed hers as he took it, and she...she tingled. Damn it. So much for acting like he was just a neighbor who had done a nice thing for her.

  Her hand trembled as she added cream to her mug. His mouth curled into a tiny smile as he watched her, and when she set the carton down, he poured some into his own mug.