ALREADY SHAKING HER HEAD, Cat said again, louder this time, “No.”
It hurt Leese to see her like this, so afraid, expecting the worst. From the moment he’d met her, she’d seemed genuine to him. His instincts had told him to believe in her, in the threats she detailed.
Seeing her now, the unmistakable fear she couldn’t hide, he knew he’d been right. “It’s okay. I won’t be long.”
“You can’t leave.”
Needing to reassure her, Leese strode closer. “I’m only running a few necessary errands. Miles is a friend. He’s here to keep you company.”
“You’re supposed to stay with me.”
He could see the panic, and it gnawed on him. “I trust Miles. He’s a good friend, a good man, and he’s skilled.”
Looking smaller, hurt, she whispered, “I don’t want you to go.”
Leese considered how to handle her very real panic, what to do to snap her out of it. Most of the time Cat was strong, independent, determined. She’d barely awakened, and then he’d thrown her for a loop. He regretted not telling her sooner.
If she hadn’t napped, or if he hadn’t gotten so involved researching her father... But that didn’t matter now. She wouldn’t like showing so much blatant fear, not to him, definitely not to Miles.
He settled on a method, and said with feigned indifference, “I’m going all the same. Just do me a favor and don’t give Miles a hard time.”
The callous comment rid her of the vulnerability real fast. Jaw tight, eyes glittering, she slowly stood to face him. “Afraid I’ll pick on him? If I can, then how badass can he be?”
“Very badass.” A knock sounded at the door. “Now behave.”
He heard her indignant gasp as he turned his back and went to answer. He checked the peep hole first, saw Miles looking around in awe and opened the locks.
“Hell of a setup you have here,” Miles said as he stepped in.
“Yeah, it is.” They exchanged a quick, gruff bro hug. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem. You’ve got me curious.”
“Curious,” Cat asked, “about what?”
Miles looked toward her, then lifted a brow. “Hi.”
Guessing there would be fireworks, Leese beckoned her forward. “Catalina, come meet Miles.”
Unfortunately, an unholy light had entered Cat’s eyes.
She sized up Miles, head to toe, sent a provoking look at Leese and purred, “My, my, my. So you’re my new protector?”
Immediately charmed, Miles smiled at her. “Seems so.” He, too, looked at Leese.
“No,” Leese said to him, answering a question he hadn’t asked, then to Cat, he repeated, “No,” to curb any ideas she might have.
She asked, “You’re still leaving?”
“Yes.” He didn’t want to wait any longer before going by her house. If anyone had rifled through it, he’d know.
“Do what you must.” Her chin lifted and she strolled closer. “Tell me, Miles, do you have the same scruples as Leese?”
“Scruples?” Miles asked, his amusement growing.
“Cat,” Leese warned. He was relieved to again see her stiff pride, but she didn’t have to push it so far. “This won’t change anything.”
“Go on,” she said, shooing him away. “I’m sure Miles and I will be fine. Isn’t that right, Miles?”
For a split second, Leese wasn’t sure. Would she really throw herself at Miles as payback because he insisted on going, or was it an idle threat, a show meant to annoy him?
He trusted Miles. Hell, he trusted Cat—even when she was in a vindictive mood.
But just to be sure, he went to her, tipped up her chin and said again, “Behave.” Before she could reply he took her mouth, doing his best to singe her—and ensuring Miles understood the lay of the land.
*
ON THE LONG drive to her house, Leese thought a dozen times about what she and Miles might be doing. He’d warned Miles that they were both to stay put. No phone calls. No visitors. No surfing the web.
Cat had replied that she’d find plenty for them to do, but Miles had only laughed.
Right before he’d walked out, she’d asked how long he’d be.
When he’d admitted he wouldn’t be back until the evening, he’d seen another flash of fear in her vivid blue eyes, but she’d quickly hidden it beneath attitude.
She had bravado in spades.
She was also the most vulnerable woman he’d ever known.
Leese parked two blocks from her address then walked the rest of the way, constantly keeping watch. He saw kids playing, dogs barking, but no one suspicious.
To alter his usual current appearance, he’d dressed down in sloppy jogging pants, a hooded sweatshirt, high-top sneakers and a ball cap, with sports sunglasses to hide his eyes. The different look, reminiscent of his fighting days when he’d jogged for hours, should keep him from being easily recognized.
The neighborhood surprised him, being one of those communities where the houses sat close together with postage stamp-sized yards filled with enormous trees. Nothing about it said privilege or wealth.
Her house, a small brick ranch, looked quiet, but the walk had been shoveled, and someone had tromped across the yard—kids, the one who’d done the shoveling, or her father’s cronies?
Acting as if he belonged, hoping none of her neighbors would notice him, Leese went up the walk with a whistle, quickly picked the lock on the front door, then went inside and listened.
Nothing.
It took him a mere minute to go through the house—three bedrooms, one bath, an eat-in kitchen and a small living room. He was truly alone. After that quick survey, he ensured both doors and all windows were locked. He didn’t want to risk anyone busting in on him without notice.
With all that done, he looked around with a critical eye.
Oddly, only a small amount of mail littered the floor from the mail chute. He checked the postmarks and saw they were all from the past week.
Had her stepfather been by to get the mail? Perhaps he’d even spoken with the neighbors so they didn’t get too nosy? That’d make sense. He could have also asked them to let him know if she showed up.
She’d had a few plants, now dead. So someone had shoveled the walk, collected the mail, but hadn’t bothered watering the plants?
Good thing she didn’t own a cat.
At every window the drapes were drawn.
Still in protective mode, he used a special device to sweep for electronic bugs and mini cams. He found only one tiny audio mic, no video, tucked inside a lampshade.
Furious that anyone had tried to spy on her, Leese crushed it under his heel, then put the demolished pieces in his pocket to dispose of in a Dumpster on the drive back.
Finally taking a relaxed breath, he felt free to notice more about the house—the plump sofa and chair, the paintings on the walls, the books on her bookshelf.
Everything was colorful, bright, coordinated. Organized, but not overly so. She’d arranged the furniture for function, filling up the limited space of the living room.