Eyewitness

Devon scooted over to make room for Kieran on Michael’s bed and swallowed hard. She’d never had to make room for anyone in Michael’s life before.

Kieran held up his fist for a bump and Michael touched his knuckles. “Good night, Michael. Thanks for helping me with the lights.”

Michael snuggled into his bed and turned his face to his pillow. In a muffled voice, he said, “I like camilari.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Devon dimmed Michael’s light to a low glow and left his door ajar. That was the easy part. Now who was going to tuck her in?

“Another beer?”

“No, thanks. I don’t drink much these days.”

“I’m glad you’re going to keep the appointment with Elena tomorrow. I think she can help you remember even more.”

Kieran stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s not just the…”

She waited, but his words trailed into nothingness. Everything between them was trailing into nothingness. Except Michael. She had to be grateful for that and put an end to these selfish feelings. Would she rather have a father for Michael or a husband and lover for herself?

The stubborn little voice taking up residence in the back of her brain shouted, Both. Why can’t I have both?

“Do you want to watch TV?” She gestured toward the dark screen. “Or do you want to turn in? You must be exhausted. I made up the bed in Dylan’s old room.”

“I’m going to sleep out here.”

“On the couch?”

“Yeah.”

“I think those floodlights out there are enough to scare off the most determined stalker.”

“I’d rather sleep here.”

Of course you would, you stubborn man. Why be comfortable? Why relax? Why give into this sexual tension between us?

“Okay. I’ll bring you a blanket and pillow. I’m going to read for a while.” She pulled the blanket from Dylan’s bed and grabbed the pillow. Grinding her teeth, she folded the blanket on the couch and dropped the pillow on top.

Then she punched the pillow. “Good night. Sweet dreams.”

Kieran’s brown eye grew even darker, and the lines on the sides of his mouth deepened. “Good night, Devon.”

After Devon washed her face and brushed her teeth, she flopped across her bed. What was that last look all about? Had he been angry that she’d shown her frustration?

He’d have to accept the fact that she wasn’t some celestial being full of light and forgiveness. That image may have gotten him through his imprisonment, but it had no place in the real world. Not in her world.

The murmur of the TV floated down the hallway as Devon folded open her book. If Kieran were so concerned about watching her back, he’d better not try to go without sleep for a second night in a row. He’d be useless.

Her lids drifted over her eyes as she pictured Kieran standing in her living room, the black patch hiding one window to his soul, every line of his body hard and ready, every line on his face harsh and uncompromising.

Kieran Roarke would never be useless.

She sighed and slouched farther into her bed, training her eyes on the page of the book, shaking off thoughts of the dangerous man with the eye patch camped out on her couch.

She read for another hour, or at least she stared at the same few pages for over an hour as she strained her ears for any little sound from the other room. It wasn’t like she expected him to charge into her bedroom demanding his conjugal rights…or whatever rights he had as a former fiance.

She didn’t expect it, but she wanted it.

Sighing again, she flipped the page of her book to show some progress. Her eyelids grew heavy. Her grip on the paperback slackened. Her head tilted toward her shoulder.

Her body jerked. She sat up, and her book tumbled to the floor. Her gaze shifted to the illuminated numbers on her alarm clock. Two o’clock.

She pressed a hand against her chest where her heart was pounding as if she’d just run a marathon. Something had awakened her. Her gaze tracked to the bedroom window, the curtains drawn tightly across a closed and locked window despite the warmth of the day.

Her fingers curled into the covers and she held her breath as if that could sharpen her hearing. Because that was it. She’d heard a noise that had jolted her out of a restless sleep.

There-a moan. No, a growl. A tortured, feral sound that ripped her heart out of her chest.

Throwing the covers back, she swung her legs out of bed. She blinked, adjusting her eyes to the darkness, and then shuffled across the room to the door.

She cracked it open. A muted, blue light glowed from the living room. Had the noise come from the TV? She pushed open the door and tiptoed down the hallway.

She poked her head around the corner. Kieran, shirtless, boxers hanging low on his hips, raised his head from the hands covering his face, his patchless eye a slit of gleaming light in the darkness of his visage.

Holding out one trembling hand, Devon whispered. “Kieran?”

His body tensed. He took a step forward.

“Kieran, are you okay? I heard some…moaning. Are you in pain?”

Air hissed out between his teeth. His long fingers curled into fists at his sides.

He must be in excruciating pain. “Do you need some ibuprofen? I’m sure I have something stronger.”

All at once, Kieran was beside her. His eyes darkened to bits of obsidian-right before he wrapped his hands around her throat.

Chapter Eleven

Fingernails clawed at his wrists. If he squeezed harder, he could vanquish his captor, get away, go home, find his angel.

“Kieran!”

Her voice called out to him. Desperate. Panicked. Choking.

His gaze focused on his prey, the blond hair spilling across his hands. Wide, blue eyes pleading with him. Soft lips formed into an O.

Devon. He wrenched the brutal hands from her slender throat. Rage and confusion pounded through his bloodstream. He stumbled back, clenching his fists and wrapping his arms around his body. An anguished cry surged from his belly and he bellowed like a wounded animal.

He continued lurching backward until he pinned himself in the far corner of the room. He stood like an animated statue, his chest heaving, the breath rasping through his lungs, his teeth grinding in rage at the animal he’d become.

Devon, looking more like an angel than ever with the light from the TV illuminating her from behind, extended her arms. Tears sparkled in her eyes and she took a tentative step forward.

“No!” Kieran thrust out his hands, warding her off, willing her to keep a safe distance.

“Kieran.”

“Stay away. Don’t come near me.”

She took another step and the filmy nightgown she wore swayed around her body. “It was a nightmare, Kieran. It’s over now. I know you’d never…”

“Hurt you? Kill you?” He forced the words from his dry mouth where they left a bitter taste like bile. “That’s exactly what I tried to do.”

“You’re not dreaming now.” She continued her progress toward him, gliding along the floor like a spirit. “I’m not afraid of you.”