Lara Lacombe - Killer Season

More important, though, why was Fiona in danger yet again? He didn’t believe in coincidences, and tonight’s activities made him think she was being targeted. But who would want to hurt her? She didn’t seem the type to have enemies, but then again, he didn’t know her all that well.

Yet.

He approached the doorway to the bedroom cautiously, focusing hard to pick up any stray sounds from the room. There was a soft rustle from somewhere within the room, faint at first, but then louder. It took him a few heartbeats to realize the noise was coming toward him.

“Don’t move,” he commanded. “Houston police. Come out with your hands up.”

The noise stopped, as if the source was considering his words. Then the sound started up again.

Nate moved back, retreating down the hall a few steps before assuming a shooting stance, his gun up and pointed at the doorway. He took a deep breath. “Last chance,” he warned. “Put your hands up or I will shoot.”

A high-pitched meow answered him, followed shortly by the appearance of a massive gray cat. The portly feline saw him and drew up short, clearly surprised to find an intruder in his home. Nate could only stare back, baffled. This was the source of the noise? Not a burglar but an overweight cat?

Feeling sheepish, Nate lowered his gun. The cat, deciding he was of no consequence, plopped down in the middle of the hall and began to lick his nether regions with a vigor that belied his size.

Holstering his weapon, Nate decided to check the bedroom, for form’s sake. He sidestepped the bathing feline and poked his head into Fiona’s bedroom, grateful, if mildly embarrassed, to find it empty.

Marshaling his pride, he returned to the front door and pulled it open to find Fiona, leaning against the doorjamb with a smile playing on her lips. “All good?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

He swallowed, determined to remain serious. “Everything seems to be in order.”

She stepped past him into the house, treating him to another whiff of her lemony-sugar scent. “I take it you met Slinky?”

“Ah,” he hedged. That massive fur ball was named Slinky? “I met your cat, but I don’t know that I’d associate him with the word slinky. He seemed rather stocky to me.”

Fiona shot him a mock glare. “He’s just big boned. Besides, I named him when he was a kitten. He’d contort himself into such impossible positions—Mom and I got a real kick out of watching him play.”

The cat in question chose this moment to enter the living room, his belly swaying ponderously with each step. He rubbed against Nate’s legs on his way to Fiona, apparently forgiving him for the earlier intrusion. She knelt to scratch behind his ears, and the cat plopped down and rolled to his back, exposing his stomach for her touch. Fiona obliged, and he closed his eyes into slits of blissful appreciation, emitting a loud purr. Nate could sympathize—he wouldn’t mind having her hands on him, either.

He cleared his throat, trying to distract himself before he let that particular line of thought go too far. “Well. Everything seems to be in order here, so I’ll just head out.”

Fiona rose, offering him a shy smile. “You don’t have to go,” she said. His heart leaped into his throat—was she really offering what he thought she was offering?

A blush spread across her cheeks, and her eyes went wide. “Um, I mean,” she stammered, apparently recognizing her double entendre. “It’s late. You’re welcome to stay on the couch if you don’t want to drive home. That’s what I meant to say.”

He was tempted to take her up on the offer, but there was no way he would get any sleep on that lumpy couch knowing she was only a few feet away, warm and soft in her bed. Better for him to drive home, take a cold shower and come back tomorrow morning so he could take her back to her car.

“That’s a kind offer, but I think I’d better leave. Wouldn’t want to put you out.” Nate winked at her, which only deepened her blush from a soft pink to red. Something in his chest relaxed at the sight of her, and he felt a strong urge to pull her close and wrap his arms around her. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, and he certainly didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable around him.

“What time should I pick you up in the morning?” he asked, hoping a change in subject would put her at ease.

“How about nine thirty? Or is that too early for a Saturday?”

“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then.” He smiled at her, studying her carefully for any sign of distress. She seemed to be okay, but he knew from experience that the shock of a traumatic experience sometimes took a few hours to set in. He didn’t want to leave her alone to process everything that had happened tonight, but at the same time, he didn’t want to crowd her.

Fiona walked him to the door. The dark circles under her eyes revealed her fatigue, but her expression was otherwise untroubled. Maybe her breakdown in the bathroom had been enough to release the stress from her attack. He hoped she was that lucky.

“Thank you again for everything you did tonight.” She laid her hand on his arm, and he felt the heat of her touch through his shirt. “You saved my life tonight. There’s no way I can repay you for that.” A sheen of tears formed across her eyes and she blinked hard, clearly determined not to cry.

His heart turned over in sympathy at the sight of her tears. “Shh,” Nate whispered, and pulled her close. He knew he shouldn’t hold her, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing while she was upset.

He buried his nose in her hair, breathing deep. “You don’t ever have to thank me for tonight,” he said, keeping his voice low as he spoke in her ear. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She nodded. “Me, too,” she whispered shakily.

He released her, holding her at arm’s length so he could meet her gaze. “You’re safe now. And I’ll make sure you stay that way. Trust me?”

“Okay.” She offered him a shy smile.

She leaned forward the barest inch, and he felt himself move in response. Her warm breath wafted across his chin, and the mood shifted, the air between them becoming heated and electric. She licked her lips, a subconscious invitation that hit him low in the belly.

His pulse thrummed in his fingertips as he reached up to cup her cheek, tilting her head so he could have better access to her mouth. Fiona closed her eyes at his touch, emitting a soft sigh that made him want to roar with satisfaction. He settled for bowing his head and running his lips across hers in a teasing caress that did nothing to bank his desire.

Fiona made an inarticulate sound of frustration, and Nate chuckled, happy to know she wanted this as much as he did. He ducked his head again, intending to kiss her properly, but Slinky apparently had other ideas. The cat butted him hard in the legs, making him sway on his feet and altering the angle of his approach. Before he could tilt his head, his nose smashed into Fiona’s, sending a spike of electric, white-hot pain into his brain.

“Ouch!” She pulled away from him, cupping her nose while she blinked back tears.

Nate massaged his own nose. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Your cat caught me off guard.” He glared at the offending creature, who had wandered a few feet away and was batting at a stuffed mouse under the coffee table. “Guess he doesn’t like me very much.”

Fiona shook her head. “He just wants attention. He’s here alone most of the time, so when I get home, he knows it’s time to cuddle.”

Lucky bastard . Nate offered her a smile and nodded, refusing to acknowledge that he was jealous of a cat. “Well, I’d hate to make him wait any longer.”

“I suppose you’re right. It is pretty late.” Were his ears deceiving him, or did she sound disappointed?