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“You’re right. It’s quiet outside and no intruder.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to be surrounded by Sam. To breathe him into her lungs. She felt like she’d breathed in the serial killer and couldn’t get the cold chill out of her bones when she first woke, but Sam drove him away.

“This is the first time since the attempt on your life, Sam, that I haven’t felt someone watching me. Do you think it was your father or someone he sent? Is that why they’re gone?” She rubbed her cheek along his chest and then settled her ear over his heart.

He hesitated. “I wish I could tell you I thought so, but no. Last night was the first night they were here, and I believe he was as well. Or at least, someone was watching. That doesn’t mean it was the serial killer. He has no reason to be watching you or me. Maybe me because I got away. I’ve never stayed in one place this long. I knew eventually my father would find me if I stayed, but you’re here, so I’m here.”

Her heart jumped. He stated it so matter-of-factly. “I’m so sorry about your mother, Sam. I really am. I saw your father gesture toward the house and you were really upset. Do you think he wants you to come back and work for him?” She moistened her suddenly dry lips, but she had far more confidence in her relationship with Sam. “Did he threaten me to try to get you to come back?”

Sam was quiet for a moment, his fingers rubbing strands of her hair together. “Stella, I always want you to look at me the way you do, like I’m a good man. I came here with that intent. I always want to be a good man. If my father or those men with him had threatened you, you can believe all three of them would have been dead. Right then. All of them.”

He went silent, obviously waiting for her reaction. Stella wasn’t certain how to react. She knew where he came from. She knew, or thought she knew, what he’d been for the past ten years. He had instincts and skills others didn’t. He would definitely protect her if someone threatened her.

She nodded to show her understanding. “What did he want then, coming here?”

“He wanted me to come back,” Sam admitted. “And to give him a chance to repair the relationship.”

She couldn’t help the way her body reacted, freezing in place just a little. She wanted him to have a relationship with his father if that was what he wanted, but she didn’t want him to leave. Not ever. “I see. And when he gestured toward the house?”

“I said I was never going to work for him again. That my woman was here and my home was with her. I found peace and I needed it. You are that peace, Stella. You and this place. He wanted to meet you. I said another time. He tried to insist and I wasn’t polite. You’ve got enough on your plate with this serial killer. They came in the middle of the night. I told him that. He admitted he thought I wouldn’t want to see him and was afraid I would take off again and they wouldn’t be able to find me.” His fingers continued to rub the strands of her hair.

It was a lot to take in. Stella rubbed her cheek over his chest again. “What are you doing?”

“Your hair’s like silk. Really love your hair, Stella.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Thought I’d let you know, I’m contemplating sleeping with you tonight instead of on the floor in front of your door.”

Her heart jumped. Raced. “Is that where you’ve been sleeping? I thought the guest room. I have guest rooms.”

“I wanted to make certain I heard if you had a nightmare.” His hand continued to stroke her hair, fingers rubbing the strands together.

She nuzzled his chest, afraid to look at him. “You would have heard.” He had instincts like no one else, especially when it came to her.

“Maybe.” There was a smile in his voice. “You going to let me?”

“Let you what?” Could her heart pound any harder?

“Move into your bedroom.” He paused. Kissed the top of her head. “Permanently. I don’t do things in half measures, Stella. You’re mine, then you’re mine. You’re not ready for that, it’s okay. I can wait.” His normally low voice had an edge to it. His body had more than an edge to it.

She slid her arms up his chest and linked her fingers behind the nape of his neck, lifting her head to meet his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw there. His eyes were alive with emotion. So much. All hers.


Tags: Christine Feehan Suspense