the last days seemed to have been leading to this, as though it were all that mattered.
"I should let you go," he murmured. But now his thumb traced soft patterns on her cheek.
"I...I..." Where were the words? But it was too late, she knew, when she saw his gaze lower to her mouth. The next moment he was kissing her.
Gently, oh so gently. His lips brushed hers, touched her cheek as lightly as a snowflake that melted against her warmth. She made a small, shaky sound, flattening her hands on his chest. He groaned and for just an instant his mouth hardened with demand and his arms tightened. Heat shuddered through Megan, frightening her with its insistence, and she resisted, pushing blindly against his chest. Immediately he released her and stepped back, his hands falling to his sides.
Breathing hard, they stared at each other in taut silence. What was she doing? Megan thought in horror. He was an almost total stranger who would be gone soon, the man he'd been here forgotten. Nothing to it, he'd said. But she couldn't forget so easily.
His eyes were hooded, his voice rough when he said, "I'm sorry."
Megan only nodded jerkily. Without a word she passed him and went up the stairs to her bedroom. He still stood unmoving in the hall below when she gently closed her bedroom door.
CHAPTER 4
Kissing Megan Lovell was one of the stupidest damn things he'd ever done. Mac turned restlessly on the thin, hard mattress, no nearer sleep than he had been an hour ago. What the hell had he been thinking?
He didn't like even acknowledging his attraction to her. He owed her. He couldn't afford to complicate that. Without much success, he tried to convince himself that his uneasiness was rooted in his dislike of owing that kind of debt. He was used to operating without ties. His most recent bureau partner, well, that was different. They had a working relationship. Neither had tried to becomes buddies.
Mac's every instinct screamed for him to run, but he couldn't desert Megan, no matter how stubbornly she dug in her heels. And who knew? Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the two hit men had congratulated each other on a job well done and never looked back. Maybe no stringer for UPI would notice the article in the Devil's Lake Caller. Maybe he and Megan would get lucky.
Unfortunately, Mac didn't believe in luck.
He did finally sleep, but not deeply. The throaty bark of a dog didn't quite fit in Mac's dream, and he surfaced so quickly, he was alert before his eyes were open.
The barking came from upstairs, though even as he sat up and reached for his gun he heard the scrabble of claws on the stairs as the big golden retriever bounded down, baying all the way. Mac swung his legs off the bed and rose soundlessly. The dog hit the bottom of the stairs and slid on the wood floor as he turned toward the kitchen. If there had been an intruder at all, he was probably long gone.
Then Mac heard the tinkle of glass breaking. Zachary's barks deepened to a roar. Mac slipped across the hall into the dark kitchen right behind the dog. The big windows at the dining end allowed just enough light so that he could see a silhouette. The bastard was climbing through the broken window even though eighty pounds of fierce muscle and teeth was launching itself at him.
A flurry of movement, and something rammed into the dog, who fell with a howl of mixed pain and anger. Mac covered the kitchen at a run, crouching to make himself as small a target as possible.
"Freeze!" he snapped, locking into a stance and taking aim.
Things happened too fast then. He couldn't tell whether the dark shape in the shattered window hesitated at all before Zachary scrambled to his feet and lunged again, knocking a kitchen chair against Mac's bare legs.
He stumbled sideways. The intruder swung something that slammed against Mac's shoulder, driving him to his knees. Mac flung the chair away, but by the time he was up, the intruder was gone. Still barking, Zachary leaped through
"I should let you go," he murmured. But now his thumb traced soft patterns on her cheek.
"I...I..." Where were the words? But it was too late, she knew, when she saw his gaze lower to her mouth. The next moment he was kissing her.
Gently, oh so gently. His lips brushed hers, touched her cheek as lightly as a snowflake that melted against her warmth. She made a small, shaky sound, flattening her hands on his chest. He groaned and for just an instant his mouth hardened with demand and his arms tightened. Heat shuddered through Megan, frightening her with its insistence, and she resisted, pushing blindly against his chest. Immediately he released her and stepped back, his hands falling to his sides.
Breathing hard, they stared at each other in taut silence. What was she doing? Megan thought in horror. He was an almost total stranger who would be gone soon, the man he'd been here forgotten. Nothing to it, he'd said. But she couldn't forget so easily.
His eyes were hooded, his voice rough when he said, "I'm sorry."
Megan only nodded jerkily. Without a word she passed him and went up the stairs to her bedroom. He still stood unmoving in the hall below when she gently closed her bedroom door.
CHAPTER 4
Kissing Megan Lovell was one of the stupidest damn things he'd ever done. Mac turned restlessly on the thin, hard mattress, no nearer sleep than he had been an hour ago. What the hell had he been thinking?
He didn't like even acknowledging his attraction to her. He owed her. He couldn't afford to complicate that. Without much success, he tried to convince himself that his uneasiness was rooted in his dislike of owing that kind of debt. He was used to operating without ties. His most recent bureau partner, well, that was different. They had a working relationship. Neither had tried to becomes buddies.
Mac's every instinct screamed for him to run, but he couldn't desert Megan, no matter how stubbornly she dug in her heels. And who knew? Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the two hit men had congratulated each other on a job well done and never looked back. Maybe no stringer for UPI would notice the article in the Devil's Lake Caller. Maybe he and Megan would get lucky.
Unfortunately, Mac didn't believe in luck.
He did finally sleep, but not deeply. The throaty bark of a dog didn't quite fit in Mac's dream, and he surfaced so quickly, he was alert before his eyes were open.
The barking came from upstairs, though even as he sat up and reached for his gun he heard the scrabble of claws on the stairs as the big golden retriever bounded down, baying all the way. Mac swung his legs off the bed and rose soundlessly. The dog hit the bottom of the stairs and slid on the wood floor as he turned toward the kitchen. If there had been an intruder at all, he was probably long gone.
Then Mac heard the tinkle of glass breaking. Zachary's barks deepened to a roar. Mac slipped across the hall into the dark kitchen right behind the dog. The big windows at the dining end allowed just enough light so that he could see a silhouette. The bastard was climbing through the broken window even though eighty pounds of fierce muscle and teeth was launching itself at him.
A flurry of movement, and something rammed into the dog, who fell with a howl of mixed pain and anger. Mac covered the kitchen at a run, crouching to make himself as small a target as possible.
"Freeze!" he snapped, locking into a stance and taking aim.
Things happened too fast then. He couldn't tell whether the dark shape in the shattered window hesitated at all before Zachary scrambled to his feet and lunged again, knocking a kitchen chair against Mac's bare legs.
He stumbled sideways. The intruder swung something that slammed against Mac's shoulder, driving him to his knees. Mac flung the chair away, but by the time he was up, the intruder was gone. Still barking, Zachary leaped through
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