Unexpected by Nevea Lane Page B

busted for trespassing before, amongst a few other petty misdemeanors…” She realized she was talking to herself. She’d never done that, but there was something frightening about her next-door neighbor that left her feeling nothing like herself.
    “I have that affect on people.”
    She whirled around, her eyes bulging as she looked at the face of the man in question. How did he get in? How did I not hear him? And why am I paying for an alarm system that obviously doesn’t work? She took one step back and, feeling behind her, grabbed a large carving knife from the butcher’s block on her center island. I’m not going to run in my own domain. I have a right to protect myself in my own home .
    “So you mean I could have killed you in my home and everything would be fair?”
    She looked up at him, meeting his steady gaze. She was positive hadn’t said that out loud.   Then again, I was talking to myself just a moment ago, she thought, as she continued to stare at him.  She thought her nerves were fried, but standing here, listening to a man who she didn’t know about death and killing.  Shit. I’m going crazy. This is a dream. A nightmare.
    “I’ve been called worse than a nightmare cherie.  The look on your face is obvious. You haven’t spoken a word yet.” He kept still, his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. Dinah knew they looked like a formidable picture. They were both dressed in all black, both of them with jet-black hair, except she had bangs and looked more like a beatnik as opposed to his assassin look.
    Clutching the knife, she willed herself to breathe.
    “Look, I explained to you why I was in your place. Why are you here?” She risked taking her eyes off him to look at the patio door behind him. It was still closed and locked. He took a step closer, although it seemed more like he glided. She looked down at his feet and realized her wore a pair of dress shoes most men would only wear at funerals or christenings. And yet he hadn’t made a sound on her hardwood floor. She started to clutch the knife so tightly, she felt her nails begin to break through the skin of her palm.
    “I believe you left this.” He tossed the forgotten flea collar onto the center island. She barely glanced at it as it skidded to a halt on the black, granite-top counter. She kept her eyes focused on him. She saw a hint of a smile playing at his lips, which seemed to be rather pink against his pale skin.
    “Keep it—it’s your cat.” Looking at him with narrowed eyes, she wondered if he liked to scare people.
    He rolled his eyes as if he could hear her thoughts.  In her mind, she was trying to be fair, while maintaining her calm.  She thought he could have found her  frustrating as all hell.  She did break into his house, hijacked his cat and left a flea collar behind.  She’d been told she was stubborn and troublesome.  Maybe he thought the same thing.
    He looked down at the hand that was still clutching the knife. His eyes refocused on hers, his gaze locking on to her. She didn’t know why, but she felt compelled to put the knife down. Placing the knife on the counter, and fearing for her life the second she did, she folded her arms under her breasts and stared at him.  She didn’t know his name, but the fact she had no idea who he was seemed to kick her libido into overdrive.   She obviously needed to date more since the idea of making passionate love to this stranger seemed to be the only thing she could think about.
    “Galien,” he said, although it seemed like his lips barely moved. “Galien Le’Coure.” Even his name put her on edge, the sound of his French accent making her shiver. Since he didn’t hold his hand out to shake, she kept hers folded and her fists balled.
    “Dinah Jacobs, Galien Le’Coure. Boy, they don’t name ’em like that anymore.”
    “I’m very—how would you put it? Ah, ‘old school’ is the term, I think.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. He didn’t seem