Dani Sinclair - Return To Stony Ridge

If Lester even had a suspicion that she and her sister were still alive, he wouldn’t rest until he finished what he’d started, and no one would be able to stop him.

A gust of wind shook the house, rattling windows. Abruptly, R.J. set his cup down and stood. Her gaze flashed to his face.

“I’m going to assume we’re on the same side for now, Teri, but I’ve been up since four-thirty this morning and tomorrow promises to be another bad day. I have to be up again in a few hours, so let me have your gun and you can spend the night.”

She straightened, coming wide awake. “Not a chance.”

“This isn’t negotiable.”

“Forget it.”

“How do I know you won’t shoot me in my sleep?”

“How do I know you won’t attack me in mine?” she fired back.

“I’d say a little trust is called for here.”

“Yeah? How little?”

Maybe if she hadn’t been so tired she would have been quicker. Then again, probably not. R.J. was incredibly fast. He was across the room in the blink of an eye with her wrists pinned before she could move. Using his weight and strength, he pushed her down into the back of the couch.

Lucky barked sharply as she thrashed, kicking at him, but she’d taken off her shoes. Fear-fed adrenaline surged through her as one hand went to the waistband of her slacks.

As suddenly as it had begun, the attack was over. He released her and stepped back holding the gun. Teri surged to her feet in front of him quivering in rage and fear.

“Sorry,” he told her without a trace of contriteness. “My house, my rules.”

He opened the cylinder and dropped the shells into the palm of his hand. Tossing them on the couch beside her, he held her gaze.

“You keep the bullets. I’ll keep the gun.”

Shock, fear and anger mixed together in her mind.

“For what it’s worth, Teri, if I’d wanted to attack you, I’d have done so. I prefer a willing partner.”

“Bastard!”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Lucky whined at their feet, obviously upset by the tension in the room. R.J. shoved the gun into his pocket and rested his hand on the dog’s large head in a reassuring gesture.

“Feel free to leave if you want, but if you do go out to your car, you won’t be coming back inside tonight.”

The hard-edged words were a promise rather than a threat. Teri believed him. As shaken as she was, part of her understood. He had no reason to trust her and no way to know whether she had another weapon in the car.

“I don’t have a spare bed,” he continued. “But the couch isn’t bad. I’ve slept on it myself on occasion. And it’s better than your car. Warmer, for one thing. I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow while you make up your mind.”

Arrogant bastard.

Lucky trotted beside him as he strode from the room. Badly shaken, she rubbed at her wrists where he had grabbed them in that steely vise. He was even stronger than he looked. He could have easily hurt her if that had been his intent. Yet he hadn’t.

Stay or go?

Teri dropped down on the edge of the couch. What choice did she have? The bottom line was that she needed R.J. if she wanted to get to Corey. It might be too late to help Valerie, but Corey was still here.

But why? Why hadn’t Lester taken him away?

Slowly, she made her way to the tiny bathroom behind his laundry room. Dark smudges of exhaustion underscored the brilliant green color of her eyes. The hue seemed far too bright and out of place against the stark whiteness of her skin. She gazed at her reflection in the chipped mirror over the old-fashioned sink and conceded her stupidity.

She shouldn’t have come here tonight. She should have waited for morning. Now she was stuck here with a man she didn’t like. A man who scared the heck out of her in more ways than one.

She was too tired and too shaken to think straight anymore. Stealthily, she slipped into the kitchen and removed a steak knife from the wooden holder on the counter. Feeling only slightly foolish, she carried the knife with her into the bathroom. If her instincts turned out to be wrong about him, at least now R.J. Monroe wasn’t going to find her totally unarmed and defenseless.

FOR A MINUTE, R.J. thought she’d run after all. He dumped the linens on the couch and started for the door, only stopping when he heard water running in the downstairs bathroom. He relaxed, not sure whether to be pleased or not. He probably wouldn’t sleep a wink with Teri under his roof, but his choices were limited.

Besides, guilt gnawed at him. He’d been unduly rough with her. Her terrified expression when he’d grabbed her was going to haunt him for a long time to come. On the other hand, she’d already pointed that gun at him once tonight and he wasn’t going to apologize for taking it away.

Who was she working for? Why keep her client’s identity a secret unless she was helping the husband? But R.J. couldn’t bring himself to believe that she was. There had been an intensity in her voiced dislike of Lester Boyington that rang true.

Unless she was a good actress, simply pretending.

After making up the couch, R.J. tidied the room, filled and set the automatic coffeepot to drip at the usual hour and added wood to the fire. He was too tired to puzzle out the mystery of his strange houseguest tonight.

Lucky sprawled outside the bathroom door waiting for her. R.J. had a hunch she wouldn’t come out until she heard him go back up the stairs.

“Guard her, Lucky,” he told the dog loudly enough for her to hear if she was listening.

Lucky’s stubby tail whomped the floor. Teri didn’t know it yet, but her biggest danger was in being licked to death.

It was going to be a very long night.

Morning brought a thick layer of fog and an uneasy truce. R.J. hadn’t expected to sleep at all, let alone so deeply, but the stresses of the day before had taken their toll and he’d awoken at his normal time, surprised that Lucky wasn’t there nudging him awake.

At least she hadn’t murdered him in his bed.

Despite the early hour, she was dressed again in her own clothes when he got downstairs and Lucky was barking to be let back inside. He fed the dog while Teri poured coffee for them both. She diluted hers with plenty of milk and sugar, he noted.

“Have a seat while I make us some eggs,” he told her. “Scrambled, okay? With cheese? I’ve tried doing them over easy but they usually end up scrambled anyway.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.” Her stomach growled loudly in protest.

R.J. raised his eyebrows, noting the way her blush gave her high cheekbones a delicate pink stain. She really was quite attractive. He wondered what she’d look like in something other than black.

Though obviously embarrassed, she held his gaze. “I didn’t have dinner last night. Scrambled eggs would taste great.”

He wanted to smile but didn’t. “I’ve got precooked bacon strips, too. They aren’t as good as the real deal, but I don’t have much time most mornings.”

“That’s okay. Eggs are more than enough. What can I do to help?”

“How are you at toast?”

“Depends on the toaster.”

“Not the domestic sort, huh?”

“There are restaurants for a reason, you know.”

He didn’t want to like her, but she made it difficult. He found his guard slipping as they prepared breakfast with the deft ease of people who had done so together more than once. The domesticity of the scene unsettled him. R.J. was fully conscious of her on several levels, and that alone was disturbing. Letting himself be attracted to her wasn’t smart. He needed to keep in mind that the woman was here with an agenda.

“Where’s the army that’s going to help us eat all this?” she asked, watching him stir the grated cheese into a huge mound of eggs in the frying pan.