To Claim Her by Renee Burke Page B

feelings of relief and temptation were so strong.
    “Let’s get you out of here.”  He lifted her upright before tucking his arm behind her knees and lifting her into his arms.  She frowned at him, pressed on his chest, stopping his movement.
    She glanced around her living room.  The tree top lay across a chair and the coffee table.  Her candles had been knocked over, and the liquid wax had dampened the wicks putting them out.  How lucky that a fire hadn’t started.  “I can’t leave it like this.”  Everything she owned was here. 
    The police officer and Mrs. Harris, her neighbor, entered the living room. 
    “Oh dear, are you okay?  I have already called my insurance agent, Gretchen.  He’s on his way now and will call a handy man to help secure the house.  I am so sorry.  And that tree was the one Mr. Harris planted when we first moved into our house.  God rest his soul.  Are you okay?” 
    The elderly neighbor was fretting and Gretchen wanted to calm her upset.  “Yes, ma’am.  I’ll be fine.” 
    Two men entered the living room shortly after.  One she recognized as the insurance agent, the other as a volunteer fireman she didn’t know by name.  Her breath caught.  The cavalry had arrived, and she was wearing skimpy pajamas. 
    Mark’s arms seemed to tighten around her when she moved to get down.  “You can’t walk in here without shoes on.  The glass is everywhere.”  He turned and walked toward the stairs. The light from the front lawn, his headlights and the police cruiser, illuminated the steps. He didn’t put her down then, just kept moving until he got to the top.  
    He took her to the bathroom and carefully sat her on the edge of the tub.  He lifted a soft towel from the shelf and grabbed her hand to help her stand.  She winced when she felt the pressure on her wrist.
    “You are hurt.”
    “Just sore.  I’m sure it’s nothing.”
    He grunted and gently patted the offending arm close to her belly to keep from bumping it.  He carefully brushed the towel through her hair freeing bits of plaster and glass stuck there.  He stroked lightly down her arms to free any debris.   His hands were big and warm in the dim room.   “Better?”
    She nodded, and he lifted her again to avoid fresh cuts on her feet.  Once inside her bedroom, he sat her gingerly on the bed.  “Stay put.”  He exited back into the hall. 
    It was dark without the flashlight or candles but Gretchen knew the house.  She walked to her closet, grabbed a pair of jeans and her tennis shoes.  She pulled her dresser open.  A beam of light, brighter than her own flashlight could ever have dreamt of being, lit up the room. 
    “I told you to stay put.”  Mark stood behind her so she could see more clearly into the dresser.  Her underwear and matching bras lay in a jumbled mess, illuminated by the beam.  She quickly pulled a pair of ankle socks free and moved to close the drawer.  Mark stopped her. 
    “Get some clothes together.  You can’t sleep here.”  His hand caressed a baby blue underwire before pulling it free. 
    She felt her face flame at his familiarity.  “Quit fingering my underwear!”
    He mortified her by continuing his search, finally settling on matching bikini underwear with eyelet flowers around the hip seams.  His low chuckle irritated her further.  “I’d rather be -” 
    Her smack to his shoulder stopped him short. 
    “Feeling violated, sweetheart?” 
    She hated him in that instant.  “Kind of.  There are strangers gawking at a freshly dropped tree in my living room and you’re digging through my drawers.”
    He laughed again. 
    “Not funny.”  She slammed the dresser drawer shut and stalked to the bed.  He followed her with the beam of light.  She dropped her shoes, tugged her shorties down with her good hand and sat on the bed.  “Do you mind?”
    “Not one bit.”  He held the light on her feet and propped himself against the wall in a