There was a lull in the music as the song finished. “I won’t hurt you,” he said quietly in an attempt to calm her. Her brows furrowed. Her gaze dropping to his mouth, then back up. A thought struck him, and he said it again, louder this time as the music began to play, a softer tune. Thank God.

  Some of the tension left her body, but her eyes remained wary.

  He strove to stay relaxed and nonthreatening, even as a sharp wave of sympathy swirled through him at the suspicion she was deaf, or at least had a hearing problem. There wasn’t anything in his file mentioning her hearing was impaired. Had it happened when her boyfriend put her in the hospital?

  “A cop?” She studied him with suspicion through narrowed eyes.

  She smelled like flowers. And cherries. Her curves utterly soft and feminine underneath him, the slip of silk she wore no barrier between them. The fullness of her breasts dug into his chest, and he was acutely aware of his hips pressed against her in intimate contact.

  His groin twitched. With a silent curse, he released her and took a short step back. No way could he allow himself to become emotionally entangled with this woman. She was his ticket to taking down Barber. Nothing more.

  Raising his hands in a nonthreatening gesture, he ignored her question. “I’m going to go turn the music down.”

  Not only was it giving him a headache, he needed to be able to hear if someone was still in the house. Besides, he had to call this in and secure her an ambulance. “You gonna be okay?”

  She slid out from under him, putting more distance between them. He tensed, ready to stop her if she attempted to run again. But she only nodded, the gaze she leveled on him no less suspicious.

  Kyle didn’t know how much Barber had hurt her before he’d arrived, although he’d only been about fifteen minutes behind the man. His mouth tightened, studying the damage done to her face. If only he’d gotten there faster, maybe he could have prevented her from being hurt.

  Her body was enticingly showcased in a blue fluff of material posing as a nightgown, emphasizing all her curves. Holding out his hand, Kyle kept his eyes on her face, and not on the slender form displayed under the nearly sheer material. “Please come with me.”

  He spoke clearly and hoped she understood him. He wasn’t going to leave her alone, and he needed to shut the music off so he could call the police. He’d tried to call them when he realized Barber was inside the house, but hadn’t been able to make a connection, and he decided her service must be spotty out this far. He’d try again, or use the landline.

  Nicole hesitated, and he figured if she had hearing problems, there was no way she’d understand him with the music blasting. So he took a step closer. His jaw set when she pressed back into the wall, fear flashing across her face again, distrust clear in her gorgeous eyes.

  Stopping in front of her, he raised his voice and mimicked twisting a knob counterclockwise. “Can we shut the music off?”

  Nicole stared at him for only a moment, then nodded, retrieving a light blue matching robe off a chair and putting it on before attempting to skirt around him.

  Kyle held up his arm, blocking her path. Knowing he didn’t have her trust, he gave her a smile before retrieving his weapon and turning toward the door. “Stay behind me.”

  “What?” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.

  Glancing back, he repeated himself, more loudly this time so she’d understand him. She gave a curt nod, and followed him into the living room. She flipped on a lamp near the couch, then stepped over to shut off the stereo.

  Finally, there was blessed silence.

  Spotting the phone, he called 9-1-1 and reported the crime, knowing it’d take the police at least twenty minutes to reach her place. Then he turned to check the rest of the house.

  But when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Nicole sway slightly, looking as if a soft breeze could blow her over. The light from the lamp shone behind her, illuminating her lush curves through the sheer material of her nightgown, and his pulse jumped.

  Even in her distressed state, she was beyond beautiful.

  His protective instincts kicked in, and he quickly made his way over to her, and took her gently by the elbow. “I think you should sit down.”

  She stiffened, though she didn’t pull away from him when he led her over to an overstuffed tan couch, easing her down onto it. The smooth fragrance of vanilla and lavender surrounded her, and messy auburn curls framed her heart-shaped face.

  Kyle was all too aware of her as a woman, and he clenched his jaw. His top priority had to be proving Barber’s guilt. He had no business thinking of Nicole Chambers that way.

  She was too soft. Too ethereal. His women tended to be tougher, balls-to-the-wall kick ass. Usually other cops who could handle themselves in any situation. Nothing like the petite, classy woman before him now. Besides, there was no time for a woman anywhere in his near future. Not until Barber was locked-up, or better yet, dead.

  Not only did he plan to use her to bait a serial killer, she was also a victim. It’d be beyond wrong to get involved with her. No matter how tempting she was.

  She was his best option to lure Barber in, he reminded himself, shoving down the guilt trying to take root inside him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near her again. No one except maybe Rob believed Barber was C.H.K. It was up to Kyle, if he wanted his mother’s killer to pay.

  He studied Nicole. She was pale. Besides the damage to her wrists, she had a red mark in the middle of her forehead, partially hidden under her bangs. Her lip was split and one eye puffy. A snarl rose inside him.

  His every muscle tensed at the thought of Barber touching her. The piece of shit wouldn’t get another chance. Because Kyle wasn’t going anywhere until the guy was caught.

  Nicole collapsed back onto the soft leather couch as Kyle, if that really was his name, retrieved his gun from the waistband of his jeans. He’d said he was a cop, but should she believe him?

  “Stay there while I take a look around,” he told her, before turning away to go search the house.

  She watched him walk away, not immune to his heady masculine appeal, and silently scolded herself for even noticing his good looks. Ruggedly handsome, he reminded her of a young Patrick Swayze, with a strong nose and square jaw, except his hair was darker, midnight black, and wavy, curling at the nape of his neck. His shoulders were wide, with a narrow waist and nice butt encased in dark blue jeans. He moved with confidence, his air of calm authority helping to settle her nerves somewhat.

  But it was his eyes that had affected her the most. A beautiful light-hazel color, with green speckles. Honest eyes, filled with a calm assurance, making her inclined to trust him.

  Although questions swirled in her mind. Who was the man that’d attacked her? Why was this man here? Was he really a cop? A shiver slid through her. And how does he know my name? She’d never seen him before.

  Nicole grabbed a couple tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing at her mouth to remove the blood she could still taste. Her lower lip felt twice its size, and her cheek throbbed from the punch she’d taken. Resting her head against the back of the couch, careful not to press against the bump on her head, she wondered why she was suddenly attracting the crazies. Twice attacked, and only a few months apart. Maybe I need a gun. She quickly dismissed the idea, afraid she’d only end up shooting her own foot, or something.

  Deep in thought, her eyes flew open when someone touched her shoulder. A cry tore from her as she brought her arms up in a defensive gesture. Kyle stood in front of her, but raised his hands in the air. His eyes glittered dangerously, his expression tense.

  “I’m sorry.” He lowered his arms and raked one hand through his hair. His next words were harder to understand, given her distraction with the way his fingers slid through the black silk of his hair, and he was mumbling.

  Probably more apologies for scaring me.

  Gathering her sorely damaged dignity around her like a cloak, Nicole got to her feet and glared at him. She was tired of being a victim. It stopped now. “What’s going on? Who was that man?”

  Kyle took her arm and guided her back onto the couch, kneeling down in front of her. His expression serious, he reached for the afghan lying on the armrest and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, fisting the ends of the blanket together to cover herself. She’d been so upset she hadn’t stopped to think how revealing her nightgown was and appreciated his thoughtfulness.

  He placed his hands on her knees, his touch scorching her through the silk material of her robe. Nicole tried to ignore how handsome he was. How she’d never seen such thick lashes on a man, or such pretty eyes. The sexy line of his mouth, and full lower lip glistening as though he’d just run his tongue across it. It was a nice mouth, and she’d bet he was a good kisser.

  What the hell? Nicole shook her head slightly, emptying the inappropriate thoughts from her mind. She’d always been a huge Swayze fan. That had to be it.

  “Can you describe him?”

  “He wore a ski-mask.” Though he spoke too quietly for her to hear him, Nicole clearly read the word ‘fuck’ on his lips. She felt the tremble in her voice when she asked again, “Why are you here?”

  “How badly are you hurt?”

  The concern she read in his eyes tightened her throat, and a tiny shiver of awareness slid through her. Up close, and calmer now, she heard him clearly when he spoke to her, and his voice was deep and warm. Her emotional shields began to crack. Nicole swallowed hard and fought back tears, barely holding it together, as his sympathy penetrated the shield she’d managed to place around her emotions since Larry’s attack. And now this . . .

  “I’m okay,” she lied, because she hurt everywhere, and had a killer headache.

  Kyle’s mouth tightened, and his brows wrinkled. She’d always been adept at reading people, and although Kyle treated her gently, she could see a good dose of anger simmering inside him.

  He stood, staring down at her in contemplation. “Where’s your bathroom?”

  Nicole blinked. “Um. Down the hall, first door on the left.”

  Her gaze landed on his broad shoulders as he disappeared into her hallway, and her pulse kicked up. The guy obviously worked out. He was back in under a minute, but continued onto her kitchen, retrieving a glass from the dishwasher and filling it with water.

  Returning to her, he handed her the glass, along with two pain relievers she hadn’t realized he had. Emotion clogged her throat as she tossed back the pills and washed them down with water. He really was a nice guy. Tears flooded her vision, and she blinked rapidly to stop them from falling.

  Kyle knelt in front of her and said her name. When she looked up, the sympathy she read in his eyes only made her want to cry more. It’d been a helluva couple months, and her walls came crashing down around her when he asked, “What is it?”

  She shook her head, denying anything was wrong, and silently cursing the tears blurring her vision. Her chest shook as she tried not to cry, inhaling through her nose.

  He frowned, then slid onto the couch next to her and gently drew her into his arms. And she let him. And not because his musky scent enveloped her in a comforting embrace, or that his solid body and strong arms made her feel safe . . . But because she really, really did need a hug.

  Kyle held Nicole close. She brought her arms up around his neck, her head pressed against his chest as she cried softly. Anger raced through him. The instinct to keep her safe warred with his need for revenge.

  Now that Barber had her in his sights, she was Kyle’s best chance at drawing the man out, taking him down and making sure he never hurt another woman again. Destroyed another family.

  The annoying sound of a cuckoo clock striking nine filled the room. The police would be here soon and he needed to get her full trust before they arrived. He set his jaw and cranked his neck to the side, stretching the pinched muscles, then to the other side.

  Think fast, damn it.

  Somehow, he needed to stay close to her, because something told him Barber would be back. Kyle ruthlessly pushed aside the guilt he felt for using her as bait for a killer. And he was going to use her. But, before the sick freak had a chance to touch her, he’d blow the man’s brains out all over her pristine white walls.

  He tucked two fingers under Nicole’s chin and tilted her lovely face up. Her beautiful caramel eyes glistening with tears. Kyle barely resisted the urge to lean down and feather healing kisses to her injuries, the need to make her feel better all-consuming.

  He’d been attracted to her since the first day he’d seen her heading down the street after leaving her pottery shop, even before he knew Barber had her in his sights. She’d been like his fantasy woman come to life. Sexy, cover-girl beautiful with a natural, girl-next-door quality. She wore little-to-no makeup, her short hair worn casual, with soft, dark auburn curls framing her face. Curls he’d instantly wanted to take hold of to tug her in for a kiss. Her clothing draped a dainty, but curvy body that turned heads wherever she went, although she seemed oblivious to the attention she received. The first time he’d seen her generous, sparkling-white smile desire coursed through him, and he’d wanted her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  She sniffled, wiping at the damp trails on her cheeks. “I’m fine.”

  Like hell she is.

  He touched the corner of her mouth, dabbing at the spot of dried blood with his thumb. She was far from fine.

  When he’d realized Barber was stalking her, rage had burst to life inside him, and still burned hot. As badly as Kyle wanted to capture the freak, he needed to keep Nicole safe in the process. Getting to his feet, he ran his hand down the side of her head, stroking her silky hair. “Wait here.”

  He went into the kitchen, keeping her in his sights. She let out a sigh and leaned her head back, closing her eyes again. He dug around in the cabinet drawers until he found a clean washcloth. Twisting on the faucet, he dampened the cloth, then made his way back over to her. Determined not to startle her this time, he said her name before taking a seat next to her.

  She opened her eyes and gave a tired sigh. Kyle could hear the sirens approaching as he dabbed the corner of her mouth. Taking her hand, he carefully cleaned her scraped wrist with the cool cloth.

  She hissed through her teeth, but didn’t jerk away from him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I mean it,” she said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Thank you. I’d probably be dead right now, or worse”—she shivered—“if you hadn’t shown up—” Her brows furrowed between curious eyes. “Why did you show up?”

  Kyle’s mind flashed to the ‘For Rent’ sign he’d seen in the front of her house. “I’m here about the room.”

  “The room? . . . Oh, you mean the cottage?”

  He nodded as police cars drove up the driveway, sirens blaring. Could work. He’d be there to protect Nicole when Barber came for her again, and from the police profile on C.H.K. the man was too arrogant to lose his prize. He’d be back. Kyle was as certain of that as he was that Nicole’s eyes were a deep, rich-brown, like caramel and chocolate, and utterly breathtaking. And there was no way he’d let Barber get his filthy hands on her again.

  Kyle would be waiting, and this time he’d take the son of a bitch down.

  Dead or alive . . .

  Preferably dead.

  “Catalino,” Johnson said, dropping a file folder on Rob’s desk, “here’s the report you requested.”

  “Thanks.” Without glancing up, Rob flipped open the thick folder marked C.H.K.

  “Don’t know what you expect to find. That case’s been gone over with a fine-tooth comb. There’s nothing new there.”

  “Okay, thanks for the tip,” Rob mumbled, ignoring the man as he searched through the pages for any mentions of Allan Barber. The noise of the squad room was a low drone in the background.

  Johnson muttered, “Waste of time,” as he walked away.

  Rob didn’t know if Kyle was right or not, but it was about time someone took it serious enough to check the records. Lifting his cracked cup, he took a sip of the terrible brew passing as coffee in the squad room. It rankled him, the way his partner had immediately been shut down when he’d brought up his concerns about Barber as a potential suspect in the serial murder case.

  Despite Kyle having a connection to this particular investigation, he was a good cop. He wouldn’t bring it up to the captain unless he felt confident in his suspicions. So Rob would see if there were any inconsistencies in Barber’s statement. And if he found any, he’d quietly investigate the man’s whereabouts at the time of the last victim’s disappearance.

  It was the least he could do for his best friend.

  Chapter 3

  Fidgeting, Nicole nervously fingered the buttons on the purple silk blouse she’d thrown on, along with a long black skirt, but she was still barefoot. Bouncing from one foot to the other, she watched Kyle talking with Dean, the sheriff, a man she’d known since sixth grade. He’d been a cutup in class and all-around fun guy. He was happily married to a friend of hers, with twin little girls who looked just like their mother.

  It often amused her that Dean now strapped a gun on his hip, with a serious expression covering his boyishly handsome face, because she could still see the smart-ass guy from high school, his light-blue eyes twinkling with mischief. Eyes now filled with anger and concern.

 

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