“I’m not that good.” He took another swallow of iced tea. “Besides, it’s too much trouble for one person. And then you’re left with all that food. You either eat the same thing every night for a week or have to worry about freezing part of it.”
Tabitha pointed at the empty serving platter. “Not the way you eat.”
He shrugged. “I usually grab something on the way home.”
“That gets old.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Tired?”
“It’s been a long day.”
She stood and began stacking the dishes.
He immediately stood and pushed her hands out of the way. “I’ll clean up, since you cooked.”
Tabitha blinked. Cooking was one thing. A person had to eat, after all, and some people didn’t like takeout. But cleaning up after a meal was another thing entirely. Totally outside the realm of most males’ experience.
She picked up the serving dishes and followed.
He stopped in the doorway between the small dining room and kitchen. “What are you doing? I said I’m cleaning up.”
She stood her ground. “You helped cook. I’ll help clean.”
He rolled his eyes and stepped into the kitchen. “You’re afraid I won’t do it right.”
“Maybe. But I’ve never known, never even heard tell of a man willing to clean up the kitchen.” She set the serving dishes on the counter beside the plates he’d just put down. “I have to see it for myself.”
“Suit yourself.”
Twenty minutes later, the kitchen sparkled.
“You’re drooping,” he said. “Go on to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day, too, I’m afraid.”
Tabitha glanced toward the hall. This was the part she’d avoided thinking about. “You’re staying here. Isn’t that what you said?”
He nodded. “Like it or not, I need to be with you, twenty-four/seven, until this is over with.”
“Protection?”
“Protector. Advisor…” His voice dropped a perceptible notch. “Anything you need me to be.”
“I only have one bed,” she said quickly.
He smiled. “Yeah, I noticed that right off.”
Her chin lifted. “So you get the couch.”
He shrugged. “I’ve slept on worse.”
She told herself she was not disappointed that he wasn’t insisting on sleeping with her. “You probably won’t sleep much with it like it is. There are too many dragons.” She started toward the door leading to the living room. “I’ll move the ones right around the—”
He caught her arm. “The dragons don’t scare me.”
“I didn’t think they would scare you. Dragons create very powerful chi, which can be quite disrupting to…” She trailed off because the amused look on his face said she was wasting her breath. “Fine. But don’t blame me if you have circles under your eyes in the morning.”
“Kitten…” His face softened, and his voice was husky as he traced the line of her jaw. “If I can’t sleep, it’s not going to be because of any dragons.”
“Oh.” She dragged her eyes away and stepped back from the touch that made her feel good and uncomfortable at the same time. “Well, then, I’ll…” She cleared her throat. “I’ll get you a pillow and some sheets.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
She turned toward the linen closet. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m going to check on my men again. They should be changing shifts in half an hour, and I’ll need to give instructions to the next batch, so don’t wait up.”
She stopped in the doorway to the hall and glanced back at him.
He watched her with an intensity that sent a thrill shimmering across her skin.
“Don’t worry,” she said a little stronger than necessary, to hide her reaction. “I won’t.”
The house was quiet when Jake entered over an hour later. The only light on was a lamp in the living room, which illuminated a couch transformed into a cozy bed with sheets, a blanket and a pillow. There wasn’t a single dragon left in the room.
Smiling, he slipped into the bathroom, where he found a still-in-the-box toothbrush with a note. “This is an extra. It’s yours while you’re here.”
He stared at her simple, no-nonsense handwriting, trying to stamp out the glow forming around his heart. How long had it been since someone had cared so much for his comfort? Since someone had thought whether or not he had what he needed?
He hadn’t even realized he’d missed it…until now.
Cursing, he ripped the toothbrush from its box. But he couldn’t fault Tabitha. She was merely seeing to the comfort of a guest.
It was his own stupid sentimentality. She reminded him of a life he’d lost very suddenly when both his parents had been ripped away just a few weeks before he graduated from high school. She reminded him of…
His mother.
Jake froze with the toothbrush ground onto his molars. Memories he’d repressed for the past eighteen years surfaced like air bubbles, popping gently into his mind.
The way his mother had tucked him in every night. The hot meals she always had on the table. Chicken marsala was one of her specialties. Her unfailing humor and patience. Her cat.
He had allowed himself to remember the way his parents had died. It was the reason he became a police officer and the fuel that powered his career.
But he hadn’t allowed himself to remember the life he’d lived before that day. He’d remembered his adoring parents, but he refused to remember details.
Like the way his father had helped him with his homework. The way his parents had attended every football game, applauded every academic achievement, grounded him the time he’d come home drunk.
About to choke, Jake yanked the toothbrush from his mouth and spit. Then he glared at the red plastic brush. It wasn’t even sharp. How could such a simple inanimate object pierce his armor so all those memories could come flooding back?
But he knew it wasn’t the brush. It was the woman who’d given it to him.
He turned on the cold water full blast and rinsed the brush, then his mouth. Switching off the light, he strode back into his temporary bedroom, stripped down to his shorts, placed his pants where he could slip into them easily, then turned out the light.
He slid between the sheets and cursed. They smelled like Tabitha.
Settling back against the pillow, he crossed his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
Tabitha slept just a few feet away, her bed butted against the wall he could reach out and touch. But he didn’t touch it, didn’t even look at it.
He was a cop. He worked long, grueling hours. He’d trained himself over the years to catch a few winks wherever, whenever he could. He could do it tonight. All he had to do was control his thoughts, control his—
Damn. Even his control methods reminded him of Tabitha.
And he’d thought the day had been long. It was nothing compared to the night that stretched torturously ahead of him.
A sudden bounce on the mattress shocked Tabitha out of her light doze. With a sharp cry, she bolted upright in bed.
“Meow.”
“Billy.” She relaxed in relief. “Jeez. You could give a person some warning before scaring them half to death.”
Billy nonchalantly performed a whole-body stretch on the unused side of Tabitha’s double bed.
She reached out to pet him from head to tail. He arched into her stroke, then rolled over onto his back.
She tentatively scratched his tummy. When he began purring instead of biting her, she scratched for real.
A slight creak of the hardwood floor in the hall froze her fingers on his fur. Seconds later, the barrel of a gun poked out of the darkness.
“What is it?” Jake demanded in a loud whisper.
“It’s the cat.” Tabitha relaxed for the second time. “He finally decided to come out of hiding.”
The gun disappeared on a r
elieved curse, then was replaced by a lean, naked torso as Jake stepped into the room.
Tabitha’s heart began racing again for an entirely different reason.
Moonlight filtering through the slats in her wooden blinds glinted off his well-muscled chest, covered by just enough hair to make her fingers ache to brush through it. He’d obviously stopped to pull on his pants but hadn’t taken the time to zip them, leaving an obvious vee where a belt buckle should be.
“The damn cat,” he repeated for his sleep-fogged mind. He ran a hand back through his dark hair, making the muscles ripple across his chest.
Tabitha watched, enchanted by this god of the night, as he padded to the other side of the bed, the side closest to the door. He reached out to pet Billy, who’d rolled back over so he could eye the newcomer.
“Meow.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the cat god when I accidentally shoot you.” Jake sat down hard on the bed and looked at her. “Were you asleep?”
She shrugged. “Sort of.”
He leaned forward and placed his gun on the bedside table. “Yeah, me, too.”
“It’s hard to sleep when you’re worried.” And thinking about the man sleeping in the next room.
“I know.” His teeth flashed in the darkness. “Want me to sing you a lullaby?”
She smiled. “Can you sing?”
“You’d fall asleep just to get away from the sound of my voice.”
“Oh, it can’t be that bad.”
Their hands touched when they reached to pet Billy at the same time. Jake’s stroked hers, as if her hand was Billy.
Tabitha’s breath caught at the shocking warmth of his hand.
Did he mean to? Or was he too sleepy to notice it was skin beneath his fingers, not fur?
Her questions were answered when he caught her hand.
“Don’t do that,” he whispered.
“Don’t do what?” Her voice was breathless, low.
He groaned. “Don’t react to me like that. It makes me want to…”
She slipped her hand from his, though she didn’t want to. “I know.”
He stood abruptly and faced her, both hands dug into his hair. “We can do this. We’re both professionals.”
She nodded. “Yes, we are. We can. You’re right.”
He let his hands drop. They stared at each other through the darkness.
Tabitha put her hand on Billy’s fur and stroked, though her attention was on Jake.
“I should go back to bed.”
When he made no move to leave, she said, “Probably.”
“Do you want me to?”
She swallowed hard. No, she didn’t want him to leave her. She wanted him to hold her, to tell her they’d get through this, to make her believe everything was going to be okay.
“Tell me to go.” Though his words pleaded, his voice clearly said he didn’t want to.
“I…” She dropped her gaze to Billy, who’d turned onto his back again. “Tell me about cases like this you’ve worked on before.”
He stood very still for a long moment, then with a defeated sigh he sat down on the bed. “There were a couple of cases that were similar. At least, ones where we were dealing with corporate situations, instead of families.”
Tabitha leaned back against her pillow. “Did you get the victims back unharmed?”
“In one of the cases.” He fluffed the pillow on his side and followed suit.
The mattress shifted with his movements, which Tabitha somehow found comforting.
“It was a shipping company where a Venezuelan national demanded to be taken back to his country.”
“On a boat?”
“A ship, yes.”
“What happened?”
“We sweated him out. Turned off the air to the deck he’d commandeered with five of the ship’s employees. It gets real hot in Houston when you’re packed into a sardine can. The kidnapper was the second one to pass out. His victims tied him up and walked out.”
“But you knew where he was.”
Jake joined her as she stroked the cat. “Yes.”
“That helps.”
“That helps a lot.”
“What about the other one?”
“The other was a computer company. Software developer. One of the programmers snapped. Demanded a space shuttle be placed in the parking lot so he could take it to Mars.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. When a shuttle hadn’t appeared by the designated time, he killed his boss, who was the only person he’d kidnapped, then himself.”
“So he was crazy.”
“The other employees said he’d always been a little weird.”
Uncomfortable against the headboard, Tabitha slipped down a little, until Billy rested in the crook of her arm. “Do you think Branson Hines is crazy?”
Jake hesitated. “He has to be somewhat out of touch with reality if he thinks you can just hand him someone else’s baby.”
“Deena’s young enough. If they want a child so badly, I don’t know why they don’t just try again.” She could feel the hair on Jake’s forearm flutter across her skin as he petted the cat.
“From what I read, she all but killed the baby they were going to have, with her vices. Drugs, smoking, alcohol.”
“It certainly complicated things. Probably brought on her premature labor.”
“Hines claims his baby would’ve been saved with all the brand-new equipment in the maternity wing you just opened. Is that true?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Tabitha yawned and slipped farther down on the bed. “We’ll never know. Of course, there’s no convincing him of that.”
“No.”
In the moment of silence that followed, Billy’s purring seemed more like roaring.
“He’s a loud little son of a gun, isn’t he?” Jake said.
“Mmm. And look at the way he’s lying. Like a baby.”
“Will he stay that way if I pick him up?”
“I don’t know.”
Jake placed his hands under Billy’s back and gently picked him up.
Billy stayed contentedly on his back and kept on purring.
Tabitha chuckled and stroked his tail. “Silly thing.”
“We should search the pound for a cat like this.” Jake rocked Billy back and forth in his arms. “Maybe we could fool Hines.”
Tabitha slipped all the way down to her pillow. She turned onto her side, facing Jake, and crooked her arm under her head. “I think the fur would be a dead giveaway.”
Jake grinned. “I don’t know. From all the reports I’ve read, Hines sees what he wants to see.”
He gently placed Billy alongside Tabitha. His hand brushed her stomach as he drew it away. He either didn’t hear her sharp intake of breath, or chose to ignore it as he settled on his side facing her.
They studied each other’s pale faces in the dim light. Desire thickened the air.
“Jake…”
“Shh, beautiful kitten.” He reached across Billy, who purred between them. “Go to sleep. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Tabitha smiled and let her eyes flutter closed. “Jake?”
“Yes?”
“Do I really have bluebonnet eyes?”
She could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Yes, little kitten, you do.”
With a sigh, she drifted into sleep. His promise to keep her safe followed her into her dreams.
Eight
Tabitha eased into consciousness at a tortoise pace. Cushioned by a soft cloud, she came awake by slow, sweet degrees.
The first thing she became aware of was the warmth surrounding her. Not hot like the Texas sun. More like a warm bath. The water lapped soothingly on her skin, pulsing ever so gently along her spine like a heartbeat.
Her eyes opened wide.
Heartbeat?
Oh, jeez. It was a heartbeat. Jake’s heartbeat.
Fully awake now, she realized she lay spooned against him.
How had this happened? The last position she remembered being in was facing him across the width of a cat. A big cat.
There was certainly no cat between them now. She was butted against him—literally—so tight no one could slip a prayer between them. She’d deliberately worn a T-shirt to bed instead of the spaghetti-strap teddy she usually wore, just in case of an invasion like the one that had happened last night.
A lot of good the thick cotton did her now, with the hem twisted nearly to her waist. Her bottom rested against his hips; the only thing separating them was the thin silk of her panties and his—
Had he taken off his pants? She couldn’t feel the thickness of a zipper.
She moved her hips ever so slightly.
He was wearing something, but she didn’t think it was briefs. Her panties moved too easily against him. Boxers, maybe? Silk?
A cop in silk boxers? That image was too foreign to fully form in her mind. She had to be wrong.
But she couldn’t worry about his choice of underwear now. She had to extricate herself, hopefully without waking him.
She considered their positions.
She was on her left side, facing the window. He lay against her, his left arm serving as her pillow, his right curled around her waist. His hand rested across her stomach and—surprise, surprise—his fingers had found the scant half inch of bare skin between her panties and the twisted hem of her shirt.
The second she realized where his fingers were, shivers danced across her skin, raising goose bumps in their wake.
Her eyes drifted closed. Was she imagining it, or could she distinguish the heat of his fingers from the general warmth beneath the covers? It seemed she could feel every slightly calloused tip brushing like an angel’s breath across her skin.
Tabitha forced her eyes open.
What was going on? Was she actually enjoying the intimate embrace? Any other time someone had held her this tightly, for this length of time, she’d had a conniption and had fought to be free. Yet she’d lain here—God knows how long—without panicking, without even waking up.
This wasn’t like her. Not at all.
But she still didn’t have time to figure it out. Heck, she probably couldn’t, with the heat fogging her brain. Every time she let down her guard she thought about the weight of his arm on her waist, or the pliable firmness of the biceps against her cheek, the hair on his legs that tickled the—
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