Fallen Rogue by Amy Rench Page A

him bend to one knee and start sifting through the papers on the floor, scanning each before he stacked them neatly to the side. The motion tightened his jeans against his taut rear. Though she was struggling mightily to hold her emotions in check, she let herself indulge in the ordinary act of appreciating the fine male specimen before her eyes.
    Shaking her head, Harper paced down the hall to Bobby’s bedroom. Again, ugly destruction greeted her. She stood in the doorway and surveyed the morbid scene. In a daze, she walked in.
    Picking up a rumpled T-shirt from the floor, she stared at the faded symbol of the Green Lantern. Bobby loved comic book heroes as much as she did. They had competitions of who could find the coolest vintage shirts of their favorites.
    She carefully folded the shirt and held it in one hand as she reached with the other to pick up an upside-down wooden picture frame on the floor. Turning it over, she saw her own image next to Bobby’s through the cracked glass. They were facing the camera, each with an arm around the other’s shoulder in front of a glorious mountain backdrop.
    Ah yes, their summer trip to Whistler a few years back. They’d ridden up the open chairlift to the summit of Whistler Mountain. Smiling, Harper remembered being absolutely petrified to ride the lift high above the craggy, rocky mountainside. Bobby had laughed at her anxiety, but had also held on to her arm with doting support and talked to her the whole way, both up and down, to keep her too distracted to freak out.
    Her eyes misted over. She stood, then leaned back to sit on the disheveled bed. Bringing the shirt up to her face, she could faintly smell the fresh, cool scent of Bobby’s cologne.
    The picture frame slid from her unsteady grasp, but she barely heard the thump as it hit the floor. Instead, she buried her face in Bobby’s well-worn T-shirt and finally let loose her crushing anguish.
    It was just too much. Surrounded by Bobby’s things, knowing he’d never see them again was just too much. The silent tears just kept coming. And she didn’t even care to stop them.
    She had no idea how long she’d been crying when she heard faint footsteps and felt the bed sink next to her. Strong arms circled her trembling shoulders and pulled her into a solid embrace. Leaning into the warm body, she heard Rome’s strong and comforting heartbeat while his hand made soothing patterns on her back.
    Rome tightened his grip, startling her. She sniffled and raised her head to look at him. Head slightly tilted, he was clearly listening for something. He released her and stood silently, pulling his gun just seconds before she heard the front door crash open.

C HAPTER F IVE
    Rome heard the footsteps trying not to crunch on the gravel outside just seconds before the front door was bashed open. He silently cursed for allowing himself to get caught up in Harper’s naked grief. She was undeniably distracting. He’d known coming here would be hard for her, but he’d also known she was strong and could handle it well enough.
    And she had done better than he’d expected. Really, he couldn’t blame her for falling apart at seeing her brother’s place in shambles, and it also justified his belief that she truly was shocked that Bobby was dead. No, he didn’t know her well at all, but what he did know from all the cruelty he’d seen in the field was that depth of sorrow couldn’t be faked.
    “Get behind me, fast,” he hissed.
    Harper quickly got up and stood still at his back. He could feel the warmth of her taut body just a breath away from his as he listened. It was impossible for whoever was out there to keep quiet with the amount of debris littered over the floor. Someone stumbled and grunted. Idiots.
    It was difficult to tell how many people had entered the house, not to mention how many might be wandering around outside. Rome was glad he’d parked in theback, obscured by some dense and drooping trees. It came to him while