she heard Connor's voice coming out of the dark interior of the vehicle. 'It's just me.'
Relief, anger, and excitement all mixed and fizzed in her belly. She brushed herself off and groped for her dignity. 'You scared me!'
'Yeah, I noticed. Pretty spooked, aren't you?'
She could think of no reply to such an obvious statement, so she just started walking again.
The car followed her slowly. 'Come on, Erin,' he cajoled. 'I'll give you a ride home. You're safe with me. Get in.'
She glanced down at her watch. The next bus wouldn't pass for twenty minutes. 'It makes me nervous to be followed around,' she snapped.
'That's tough. It makes me nervous to see you alone on the street at night,' he replied. 'Get in.'
She got in. The window whirred shut, the locks snapped down, and she was alone in a car with Connor McCloud. The fierce barbarian warrior who had played a starring role in her sexual fantasies for years.
'You need a full-time bodyguard until Novak's back in custody,' he said sharply. 'You can't wander around by yourself. It's not safe.'
'A bodyguard?' She snorted in derision. 'On my budget? I can barely afford to feed my cat.'
'I'm not asking for pay.'
'
'Put your seatbelt on, Erin.'
Her stiff, chilly fingers struggled with the belt. 'I don't want a bodyguard,' she said nervously. 'I particularly don't want you for a bodyguard. Nothing personal, but I don't want to have anything to do with the Cave. I don't want to see Dad's ex-colleagues ever again.'
'I'm not with the Cave anymore,' he said. 'Haven't been for months. They don't think you need protection. I do. This is my idea, and I'll take responsibility for it.'
'Oh. Uh…' She searched desperately for words. 'I, um, really appreciate the thought, Connor, but—'
'You don't take me seriously,' he said. His voice was sharp with frustration. He flipped on his turn signal, and turned onto her street.
'Novak is probably busy plotting to take over the world by now,' Erin said. 'I'm sure he has better things to do than bother with the likes of me. And how do you know where I live, anyway?'
'Phone book.'
'That's not possible. I'm not in the book yet.'
He slanted her a wry glance. 'You're in the database, Erin, even if you're not in the book. Anyone could find you.' He parked in front of the decaying facade of the Kinsdale Arms and killed the engine. 'This place is grim. What happened to your apartment on Queen Anne?'
Another surprise. 'How did you know about—'
'Ed bragged about you when you got that hotshot job at the museum and moved into your own place,' he said. 'We all knew.'
She winced at his mention of her father, and stared down at her lap. 'This place is cheaper,' she said simply. 'Thanks for the ride.'
His car door slammed, and he followed her into the lobby. 'I'll walk you up to your apartment.'
'That's not necessary, thank you,' she told him.
Her words were futile. He fell into step behind her as she started up the staircase. She had no idea how to deal with him. He was so stubborn and determined, and she didn't want to be rude to him.
Six flights took forever, with his huge, quiet presence behind her. She stopped in front of her door. 'Good night,' she said pointedly.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and stared down at her with unnerving intensity. 'Erin. I really didn't want you to get hurt.'
'I'm all right,' she whispered. It was a lie, but she couldn't resist the impulse to comfort him. She'd always been a hopeless softie. She found herself staring at the hollows under his cheekbones. The sensual shape of his lips, bracketed by harsh lines. It had been so long since she'd seen his gorgeous, radiant grin.
The words flew out of her mouth. 'Do you, um, want to come in?'
'Yeah,' he said.
Her stomach did a terrified back flip. She unlocked her door.
He followed her into her apartment. She flipped on the floor lamp she'd found at a rummage sale years ago, with a wicker laundry basket she had rigged for the lampshade. It cast a strange pattern of warm, reddish slices of light and shadow around the cramped room.
'It's not much,' she said hesitantly. 'I had to sell most of my stuff. Here, let me move this pile of books. Sit down. I can make you some coffee, or tea, if you'd like. I'm afraid I haven't got much to offer in the way of food. A can of tuna and some toast, maybe. Or cereal.'
'I'm not hungry, thanks. Coffee would be fine.' He wandered around, studying her pictures, scanning the titles of the books piled against the wall with evident fascination. Edna jumped down from her favorite perch on the bookshelf and stalked over to investigate him.
Connor crouched down to pet her cat, and Erin hung up her jacket and put the kettle on. His eloquent silence unleashed too much dangerous speculation in her mind. She turned around.
The chitchat she'd been rehearsing froze in her throat. The raw force of his gaze sent a shock wave of feminine awareness through her. He was staring at her body, measuring her with intense interest. She felt naked in her jeans and T-shirt. 'You're thinner,' he observed.
Her instinct was to back away, but the sink was already pressed against her back. The room was terribly small with him in it. 'I, uh, haven't had much of an appetite, the past few months,' she said.
'Tell me about it,' he murmured.
Edna arched and purred beneath his hand, which was very odd. Edna was a nervous, traumatized ex-alley cat. She'd never let anyone but Erin touch her, and now look at her, flinging herself onto her back. Writhing with pleasure beneath Connor's long, stroking fingers.
Erin wrenched her gaze away from the unsettling spectacle. 'This has been the one time in my life I've managed to lose weight without trying,' she babbled. 'And I'm too stressed out to enjoy it.'
'Why did you ever try? Your body is gorgeous.'
His tone was not flattering or flirtatious, just a flat request for information. 'Well, I, uh… I've always been a little too—'
'Perfect.' He rose to his feet with sinuous grace, still studying her body. 'You've always been perfect, Erin. You don't need to lose weight. You never did. Try not to lose any more.'
She was completely flustered. 'Ah… OK.'
A sweet, brief smile transformed his lean face as he sat down in the chair she'd cleared for him. Edna promptly leaped into his lap.
Erin scooped coffee into the filter with trembling hands. Busy, busy, busy—
'Erin, can I ask you something personal?'
Her skin prickled at his tone. 'That depends on the question.'
'Last fall. At Crystal Mountain. That guy, Georg. Tell me the truth. Did you go to bed with him?'
She froze into agonized stillness, keeping her back to him. 'Why does it matter to you?' Her voice was small and tight.
'It just does.'
His question brought all the burning shame rushing back. She turned, and lifted her chin. 'If I say yes, that means you'll lose all respect for me, right?' She flung the words at him.
'No,' he said quietly. 'It means that when I hunt him down and start beating him to death, this time I'll finish the job.'
The kettle began to warble. She couldn't respond to it. She was paralyzed by the bleak intensity of his eyes. The warble rose to a shriek.
Connor jerked his chin toward it.
Erin grabbed the kettle with shaking hands. 'I think you'd better leave,' she said. 'Right now.'
Her voice sounded tight, breathless. Not authoritative at all.
Connor's gaze did not waver. 'You promised me coffee.'
