was going to die.’

Usually? This had been going on for a while then? Fuck. ‘You didn’t think to mention this?’

‘I did. To the police. And Cherry and Frank knew. The police really couldn’t do anything, said it was probably young people playing pranks, although Constable Bruce did go and talk to Bob Thompson, but of course he denied it.’ She gasped then.

‘What?’

‘Do you think they upped the ante even further? That they started the fire?’ She shook her head before he could answer. ‘No. They could have caused a serious fire. One that spread. Why would any local do that, even if they hated me that much?’

He shrugged. Nobody he knew—not even Bob Thompson—would have started a fire. Especially not at this time of year. The fire had to have been an accident. It had to be. Why leave a dead animal at the door with a threat written in blood and set a fire? It didn’t make sense. Not to mention the thought that they had an arsonist in the area sent shivers through him. They’d thought it was only careless campers who’d left that fire alight near the property, but what if it was something more? What if someone had a grudge against Prita? Although, why would they be setting fires near CoalCliff if that was the case? Maybe it was local businesses they had a problem with. Or, maybe it was just a big coincidence and he was getting carried away with the whole thing. The two things were probably not connected at all.

Not that that mattered right now. What did matter was that someone had killed that possum, left a nasty message for her on her door in blood and set her house on fire.

‘I’ll call the police.’

The relief on her face was almost painful to witness. ‘Thank you.’ She grabbed his hands and squeezed them. ‘Thank you for believing me.’

Of course he believed her. Why would she think he wouldn’t? Was it because he’d destroyed her trust last night when he’d been such a horrible arse? He had so much to make up for. Starting now. ‘I’ll get the nurse to call them now.’

She held his hands as he stood, and he didn’t pull away. Just looked down into those beautiful eyes with their flecks of amber, the loss, the fear, the worry, reflected so clearly in them. All he wanted to do was lean in and gather her into his arms and hold her close, comforting her, telling her it would all be fine, that he would take care of it and her and Carter. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t his place. Would never, could never, be his place.

Yet, he couldn’t let go as she held onto him, his thumb stroking across the back of her hand the only comfort he could offer.

Christ her skin was soft.

His gaze fluttered to her mouth. A little breath fluttered out of her and her tongue flicked out and wet those luscious lips. He’d never forget what they’d felt like under his. Soft, ripe pillows of heaven.

Hell, he wanted to kiss her so badly. Only to prove to himself that he’d beat the whole thing up in his imagination, of course. Nothing could have felt that good.

‘Flynn?’

His gaze met hers and he felt himself being drawn in, drawn down, towards her, towards the madness only she could create in him.

‘Prita?’

She jerked at the sound of the voice behind him, her fingers tightening around his so that her grip was almost painful. ‘No,’ she breathed, so softly he wouldn’t have heard the sound if he hadn’t already been looking at her face, her lips. He straightened, pulled his hand from hers, embarrassed by the tableau they must have presented for whoever had just walked in the door behind him. Someone he really should thank given they’d just saved him from making a massive mistake. Again. Not that he would make the mistake of saying that. Again. Better to ignore it.

He turned to face the man standing stock still in the half open doorway, staring at them, his gaze darting from her to him and back again.

‘Prita?’

Flynn’s hackles rose. There was something in the man’s tone, a familiarity, an expectation and disapproval, added to affection that he didn’t like. He also didn’t like the way he looked—well dressed, very handsome, white teeth flashing in skin a couple of shades darker than Prita’s, dark hair cut in what must be a fashionable style, brushing across his brow just so. Flynn lifted his hand to his own shaggy mess and ran his fingers through it. ‘Do you know this man?’

Her eyes glued to the other man, she said, ‘Chandra. What are you doing here?’

‘The hospital called me.’

‘They did? Why?’

‘I am down as your emergency contact still.’ The man moved closer, his white teeth flashing nervously, his voice slightly accented, but not so much that Flynn believed he was recently arrived from India. ‘I called your Taaii Ameera.’

‘You did?’

‘She wanted to come but she has a big wedding fitting today. But she told me to tell you she’d come to help if you needed her.’

‘She did?’

‘Of course. She worries about you.’

‘I thought I was in her bad books.’

‘She may not approve of some of the choices you’ve made, but she does love you.’

Prita snorted. ‘She has a funny way of showing it.’ She frowned. ‘I still don’t understand why you’re here.’

He shrugged, the gesture made with his hands as much as his shoulders. ‘You’re my wife. I came to look after you and to bring you home.’

‘He’s your husband?’ Flynn asked at the same time as she said, ‘I’m not going home with you.’

They all stared at each other for a long moment before Flynn asked again, ‘He’s your husband?’

‘Yes.’

Damn. What hope did he have against someone who looked like this bloke did?

What was he saying? He didn’t want to have a chance. And yet, he couldn’t help the jealousy that arose at the affectionate way she’d looked at Chandra when he’d come

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