She tried to suppress a shiver, but it rippled through her hard enough to make her shoulders shake. “We don’t know that for sure, John. I could be wrong.”
“Or you could be right.”
Silence thickened the air around her as she considered his words. She hated being afraid almost as much as she hated not knowing who she was.
“If you’re right, and you know this person, he obviously knows you’re here.” He cut her a hard look. “You can’t stay here.”
I don’t have anywhere else to go. The unspoken words hung in the air between them like an unpleasant smell. But Hannah couldn’t bring herself to utter them. She didn’t like the sense of vulnerability they induced. “How did he know I was here?”
“Maybe he followed us from the hospital.” Grimacing, John muttered a curse. “I thought the incident up on the highway was suspicious, but I didn’t think he’d follow us here.”
“John, there are other shelters—”
“Women’s shelters aren’t exactly high security.”
Angela Pearl came through the door. Having evidently caught the last couple of sentences, she humphed. “I don’t turn my ladies out on the street just because of a little trouble, John Maitland. You know me better than that.”
Hannah looked up to see the other woman cross to the stove where she put a kettle on to boil.
John scowled at her. “A drive-by shooting is more than a little trouble, Angela.”
“Angela Pearl takes care of her own.”
“She’s also wise enough to know when to close her doors to keep the other women safe.”
Hannah hadn’t considered the possibility that her staying here could put the other women at the shelter in danger. Squaring her shoulders, determined to do the right thing, she stepped forward. “He’s right, Angela. I won’t endanger—”
“And I won’t put you out on the street.” Putting her hand on a generous hip, Angela Pearl challenged John with a raised brow. “Unless our superhero here has a better idea.”
John’s gaze didn’t falter. “She can stay with me.”
The words rolled over Hannah with all the finesse of a Sherman tank. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“Why not?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Angela Pearl cock her head in interest.
“Because it would be…inappropriate,” Hannah said.
“I’m not asking you to move in with me, Red. Until we figure out what’s going on, you can sleep in my guest room,” he said. “I’ll take you to the police department first thing in the morning. We’ll get your prints taken and check with Missing Persons.”
Angela Pearl folded her arms across her generous bosom. “If you’re worried about spending the night with a strange man, honey, I can vouch for John Maitland. I’ve known him for several years, and he’s a pure gentleman.” She winked at John. “Even though he doesn’t act like it most times.”
The offer tempted her. She was exhausted and emotionally wrought and a hell of a lot more afraid than she wanted to admit. She knew the man in the SUV was a threat and could return at any time. The last thing she wanted to do was endanger Angela Pearl or the other women. Logic told her to accept his offer. But another part of her brain that wasn’t thinking quite so logically told her she would be opening herself up to another danger that wasn’t so cut-and-dried.
“You’re dead on your feet,” John said. “You’ll feel better in the morning after you’ve gotten some rest. You might even have your memory back by then. What do you say?”
Hannah looked at Angela Pearl. The other woman gave her a minute nod, the meaning of which didn’t elude her. She could trust John, the silent message said.
Of course, trusting him wasn’t the biggest issue she was wrestling with. It was that blasted kiss that was troubling her. That unforgettable, mind-bending, totally inappropriate kiss that had her wanting to run in the opposite direction—or else throw herself into his arms. She’d rather sleep out on the frozen curb than admit she was attracted to John. How could she stay with John when her heart could belong to the father of her child?
As long as she didn’t let him kiss her again, she decided, she’d be just fine. If she took John up on his offer, she’d have to set some ground rules. Let him know she wasn’t interested in anything more than a safe place to spend the night until she found an alternate shelter.
“Maybe for just one night,” she heard herself say.
Angela Pearl smiled. “I’ll put some of my raspberry tea and gingersnaps in a container for you.”
John’s eyes never left hers. Hannah wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw victory in the depths of his gaze. “I’d better get started patching up that front window,” he said.
* * *
She can stay with me.
John figured he was going to regret those words. They rang in his head like the beginning of a migraine. The feeling had solidified and augmented throughout the evening as two of Denver’s finest made their report and consumed a dozen or so of Angela Pearl’s gingersnaps. By the time the police had gathered the information they needed and had headed out the front door, John had known his offer to let Hannah stay with him was a downright bad idea. As he turned the Jeep onto Highway 285 and headed west, he felt the sentiment all the way to his bones.
What the hell had he been thinking?
That was the problem, he realized. He hadn’t been thinking at all. Offering up his cabin to a woman he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done. Here it was, past midnight, and he found himself faced with the prospect of spending the night with a curvaceous redhead who’d just hours earlier knocked the world out from under him with a kiss so hot he’d burned. Yeah, real smart move, Maitland.
“We need to discuss…what happened,” she said.
John glanced over at the woman in question. He tried not to be annoyed when he noticed she was hugging the passenger door. “You mean the guy in the SUV?”
“I mean the…you know, the…”
“The kiss,” he finished.
“Well, if you can even call it that.”
He studied her in the dim light from the dash, taking in the stubborn set of her mouth, the tons of red hair, and felt a flare of lust hit him low and hard. Well, this was a hell of a time for him to realize he was partial to redheads. Especially one that was off-limits for too many reasons to count.
Soft, determined eyes met his and held them. Her full mouth was pulled into a frown that shouldn’t have been sexy considering it was aimed right at him. But her mouth was sexy. Too damn sexy. Not to mention talented when it came to kissing a man senseless. A few wisps of red hair had fallen in her eyes. He wondered what it would be like to reach around and unleash the rest and let it tumble over her shoulders.
“There’s no question about it, Red. That was definitely a kiss.”
“Yeah, well, call it what you will, but it was definitely inappropriate,” she said.
“High adrenaline,” he said simply.
“High adrenaline?”
“That’s right. High adrenaline.”
“I’m not following you.”
“The aftereffects of highly stressful situations. Emotions are charged. Adrenaline is pumping. Blood pressure is elevated. Senses are heightened. It’s a scientific fact that people tend to react…strongly during those kinds of situations.” It was as good a rationalization he could come up with so he was sticking to it.
“I thought you’d be accustomed to that sort of thing,” she said.
“Well, usually I’m with a bunch of guys. Being with you… Well, let’s just say it’s not the same.”
She laughed, a throaty sound that was far too sexy in the confines of the vehicle. Damn, just about everything about her was turning out to be sexy.
John grinned at her, felt something warm jump in his chest when she smiled back. She had one of the most dazzling smiles he’d ever seen. And that dimple… Oh, boy, this was not
looking good at all.
“I just thought if we’re going to be spending time together, I think we should set some…ground rules,” she said.
“Look, Red, I didn’t mean for that to happen any more than you did.”
“I know. It’s just that—”
“It’s just that it was pretty damn good, and we’d both be lying if we claimed we hadn’t enjoyed it.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. John looked away, staring sightlessly at the road, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.
Turning slightly in her seat, Hannah looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I think we both know I could be seriously involved with someone.” Absently she rested her hand against her abdomen. “I mean, I could even be married—”
“I know,” he snapped, realizing with a stark sense of dismay that he was annoyed.
“It can’t happen again,” she said.
He blew out a sigh. “Yeah.”
“And I think it would probably be a good idea if we didn’t…you know…touch each other.”
He studied her a moment, taking in the serious set of her mouth, the way she seemed to look everywhere but into his eyes. She was right, of course. Touching wasn’t such a good idea, either. One innocent touch, and all he wanted to do was touch her more—in ways that were anything but innocent. “All right,” he said. “I can abide by that.”
“I think it will make things easier for both of us.”
“If it’s any consolation, Red, I hadn’t planned on kissing you. What happened back there was a spontaneous reaction to high adrenaline. Things like that happen when two people experience an intense situation together.”
“I’m sure that’s all it was.”
He wondered if she really believed that. He sure as hell didn’t. That was what worried him about the whole situation.
Releasing a pent-up sigh, she shot him a challenging look. “I want to make certain you’re okay with this. I don’t want you to feel like you have to feel responsible for me in any way,” she said. “I have some options.”
“Give me a little credit, will you?” he growled. That she believed he would turn her away and leave her with no place to stay rankled him almost as much as the damn rules she was laying down. “Like I would put you out on the street.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, be advised that I wouldn’t do that, all right?”
“I didn’t mean to annoy you.” Folding her arms, she turned her attention to the window.
He raised his hand to touch her, belatedly remembered rule number two and let his arm drop to his side.
Damn, it was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER 8
Hannah knew she’d annoyed him with her ground rules. But the way she saw it, she hadn’t exactly had a choice—especially after that kiss back at Angela Pearl’s. She was vulnerable to him not only because of her amnesia and the fact that someone had declared open season on her, but because of her insane attraction to him. With her life in turmoil—and apparently in danger—she couldn’t afford that kind of distraction.
John Maitland definitely distracted her.
Since the moment he’d swooped down from the helicopter and taken her into his arms, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. Even in the face of danger, he made her feel safe—though she knew another kind of danger may very well lie within the man himself. Falling for those arctic-blue eyes and daredevil grin would be a fatal mistake. No matter how stressful the circumstance—or how intense the attraction—the fact remained that she carried another man’s child within her womb.
She was insane to be thinking of John in terms of the way he’d kissed her when she was obviously involved with someone else. Just because she couldn’t remember her lover’s name didn’t mean she wasn’t in love with him.
“Home sweet home.”
Hannah was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the Jeep had slowed. She looked up in time to see a narrow lane, the headlights playing over hundred-year-old pines and aspen the color of old bone.
“Nice neighborhood,” she commented.
“So long as the neighbors stay out of the garbage.”
She cut him her best what’s-that-supposed-to-mean look.
He grinned. “Bears.”
“Oh. Friendly bears, I hope.”
“They make pretty good neighbors, actually. They hardly ever complain about the music.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Or borrow tools and forget to return them.”
“Right.” He parked in front of a detached garage and shut down the engine. “The place needed a lot of work when I bought it, but the location and view were too good to pass up.”
Ahead and to her left she could make out the shape of a small cabin nestled in a shadowed forest. The moon wasn’t full, but enough light reflected off the snow for her to make out the wraparound front porch and river-rock chimney.
She started when John opened his door. “I guess we’re both a little jumpy tonight,” he said.
“All that talk about bears.”
“Stay put,” he said. “The walkway is slick. I haven’t shoveled the snow yet.”
Hannah opened her door, but before she could get out, he’d walked around the Jeep and reached for her. His hands slipped beneath her arms, and he gently lowered her to the ground.
“Thank you.”
The night was bracingly cold and so quiet, she could hear the wind whispering through the treetops.
“It’s so…quiet,” she said.
“The wildlife is pretty incredible, too. Mule deer. Raccoons. I saw a small herd of elk last weekend.”
Ice crunched beneath their feet as they tromped through the snow toward the front door. Hannah wasn’t sure why she felt so apprehensive. She told herself it was a combination of her amnesia and the shooting back at Angela Pearl’s, but she knew the tingle of nerves as John opened the door had little to do with either of those things—and everything to do with the way she was reacting to him.
The door swung open. The first thing she noticed was the tang of burning pine from an earlier fire, the remnants of this morning’s coffee and the faint scent of aftershave and man. John flipped a switch next to the door, and light from a single lamp illuminated a small living room. Rough-hewn beams and dark paneling bestowed a rustic ambience. A brown leather sofa draped with an Indian-print afghan lined the wall to her left. A mismatched chair and a braided rug lent an air of masculine comfort. A river-rock hearth dominated the center of the room and swept up to the rafters like a stone waterfall. One look at the mismatched pillows piled on the floor in front of it, and the hardback thriller lying facedown, told Hannah it was used often and enjoyed.
“Nice place.” Her voice sounded high and tight in the silence of the room.
“It suits me.” He took off his coat and hung it on the rack behind the door. “I can hang your coat if you like.”
“I’ve got it.” She slipped the coat from her shoulders and hung it on the rack.
“Hungry?” He started toward the kitchen.
“No thanks.”
She knew better than to watch him cross the room, but her eyes took on a life of their own and played over the length of him. The man knew how to fill out a pair of jeans, that was for sure. He didn’t do too bad in the area of filling out that flannel shirt, either. In fact, he seemed to do a pretty good job of filling the entire room.
“I’ll just get you something to drink, then. I’ve got milk or juice. Hot chocolate if you prefer.”
Thinking of the baby growing inside her, Hannah was about to opt for milk when movement in the kitchen sent her heart to her throat. Something large and dark lumbered toward them. Good Lord, a grizzly bear? In the cabin? Weren’t they supposed to be hibernating this time of year?
The scream died in her throat when she realized the bear wasn’t a bear at all, but a monstrous dog with a thick black coat, massive head and a lolling, pink tongue.
The d
og galloped from the kitchen toward John.
“Whoa! Down!” John raised his hands, but the dog paid no heed. Two huge paws crashed against his chest. Hannah heard a grunt, and then John reeled backward and landed on the floor with the giant beast standing proudly on his chest.
“Get off me, you big mutt!”
Realizing they were no longer in grave danger, Hannah put her hand to her chest and laughed. “I think he missed you.”
John turned his head to avoid the dog’s overzealous tongue. “I forgot to warn you about my watchdog.”
“What does he do, lick prowlers to death?”
“Uh, he’s still in training, actually. Midlife career change.”
“That’s tough.”
The dog sat, his tail thumping hard against the pine floor. John struggled to his feet, wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt. “He didn’t get his walk today.”
“No wonder he decked you.” She looked down at the dog, charmed by the sagging eyes and jowls. “What is he?”
“Newfoundland Retriever.”
“What’s his name?”
“Honeybear.” He shot Hannah a sheepish grin. “I didn’t name him.”
The denial freed the laugh from her throat. “Of course not.” She ran her hand over the animal’s head. “He’s beautiful. Where did you get him?”
“He was a search-and-rescue dog for an outfit up in Vail. He got hurt during a mission—broke his hip—and couldn’t work anymore. No one on the team could take him at the time. My buddy asked me.” He scratched the dog’s head with shoddily concealed affection. “One look at those eyes, and I couldn’t walk away.”
Hannah caught herself grinning back, not sure if she was more charmed by the dog or the man. “He’s lucky.”
The look he gave her went on way too long. “I’ll just put him outside. Make yourself at home. The guest bedroom is down the hall. I’ll get your bag when I come back.” His eyes skimmed down her legs. “I’ll have a look at those skinned knees, too.”
Without waiting for a reply, he snagged the dog’s collar. Honeybear proceeded to drag him toward the kitchen where Hannah assumed the back door was.
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