"It's part of the job." Marsha gripped her hand and held it for a moment. "We'll be in touch. Very interesting to meet you, Mr. Jergens."
"And you." Charlie turned back to the window.
"Hang tough, darlin'." Ben winked and followed Marsha out the door.
"Those are the detectives who investigated the brother-in-law who fired the gun at you and then broke into your house after your husband's funeral before I left for my flight back to Hawaii."
"Yes." Christine took a deep breath. Oh no, he would not like this part. "They kept in daily contact when I received the threats from Earl, so we sort of became friends."
He spun, eyes still hot but controlled. "You received more threats and didn't tell me?"
"Only one or two, then they just stopped after I filed the protective order." Christine pleated the sheet. "I guess I understand why now, since he's in the rehab place or whatever it is. He must have been admitted after the insurance company settled. I haven't had contact with any of them since Randy's funeral and neither have Adam or Anna. Only our attorneys contact each other. The restraining order is still in effect."
Charlie huffed out a breath. "I shouldn't have left you."
"When? Then? Why?" Christine raised her head to gaze at him. "There's been nothing but peace for months. How could anyone guess this would happen?"
His gaze roamed her face and body, not with passion but concern. Would he ever look at her with desire again? "I didn't protect you as I should. Can you ever forgive me?"
"There's nothing to forgive. Please, Charlie—Kale—will you just come hold me?"
A knock and then the door opened. "Ms. Howell? I'm Doctor Daniels. I took over for Doctor Bell." The Doctor smiled as he walked in followed by Eva. "Let's check you over."
"You have to wait outside a few minutes, handsome." Eva winked at Charlie. "Doc will update you both once he finishes his assessment."
Charlie shot like a bullet from the window as if he couldn't wait to get away. "I'll go grab some air."
Christine watched him leave as the Doctor began to check her over. Whoever attacked her accomplished the goal. She felt insecure, scared, and alone once again.
Chapter Thirteen
Christine leaned back against her pillows, the complete darkness broken by the tiny night light under the window highlighting the faded lei and throwing shadows on the wall. Silence reigned. Even the night insects and birds had fallen quiet. The air still smelled like the pasta Charlie had made for dinner.
The rich sauce and noodles were a surprise; he could cook as well as any five star chef. He cooked, cleaned, and watched over her since she'd been discharged three days ago. The bruises were fading, her shoulder was better, and yet he wouldn't touch her. She saw desire in his face every now and then, but something held him back. What?
She'd come to terms with the attack. Christine shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. Okay, so she still had a way to go with therapy sessions, but Christine realized she did nothing wrong and wanted to get on with her life.
"I want to make love with you, Charlie, feel connected again. But you won't touch me." She smacked at the pillow. "Maybe you should come to therapy with me and see I'm still the same person. We were insatiable and now nothing?"
Pushing from the bed and struggling to her feet, Christine moved with years of familiarity through the darkness to the guest room. The dim bedside light cast a warm glow over Charlie as he slept. So, sleep together and then make love in the morning. Perfect plan. She eased in bed beside him and watched as his breath stirred the pillowcase. His hair dark stood out against the sheets and his face relaxed in a way she rarely saw. It surged through her, the tide of emotion she'd fought so long. She was in love with him and needed to show him.
Somehow Christine tugged the thin silk night shirt over her head, tossed it aside, and snuggled next to Charlie, smiling as he murmured her name. She breathed him in, his unique fragrance and pure man. Kissing his eyelids, cheeks, and nose, she trailed feathery licks down his neck, moaning softly as he grew thick and hard. One leg atop his hips, she shifted, her breasts aching for his hands, fingers, and lips as she straddled him, ready to draw him inside.
An oath crossed his lips before he glared up at her. "What the hell is this?"
Christine swallowed at the fury in his face and voice. "I want you, and you want me."
Charlie ran a hand through his hair and pushed away, making her tumble to the side as he sat on the edge of the bed, the sheet draped over his lower body. "Christine."
"Make love to me." Beyond caring that his glare drilled holes into her, Christine held out her hand. "Please."
"No."