Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(35)

She turned her face away, but his hand forced it back until she met his eyes again. "Look at me when I talk to you, Erin."

How dare he order her. She wanted to say something sharp to put him in his place, but the intensity of his eyes wiped her mind blank.

"Do you know, if a normal, well-behaved dog starts to chase sheep and brings one down, he'll never stop. He can't forget the thrill, the taste of blood in his mouth."

"No. I didn't know that," she whispered.

"Well, why would you? You're a city girl. But anyhow, the dog has an excuse. He's just reverting back to what nature originally programmed him to do. But Novak, he discovered his true passion in life that night. Murdering young women is an expensive vice for him, like fine cocaine. Or collecting priceless Celtic artifacts."

She shook her head. "It's not possible, Connor. Mueller is—"

"Do you see why I'm freaked out by this? Please, Erin. Tell me that at least one person gets it. I'm dangling all alone out here. There's a guy loose who gets off on snuffing beautiful girls, and he knows your name. Tell me I have a right to be nervous for you!"

The desperate appeal in his voice made her want to put her arms around him and agree to anything, if only it would make him feel better. She stopped herself just in time. A nervous giggle escaped her. "I'm not such a prize. Novak could do better than me in the beauty department."

He looked incredulous. "Huh?"

"Cindy's the beauty, Erin's the brain," she babbled. "That's what my mother always says. It never occurs to her that it makes Cindy feel stupid and me feel ugly. But she means well. She always means well."

He frowned. "You are kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding."

She bit her lip. Her eyes slid away from his.

"Jesus," he said. "You are gorgeous. You must know that."

Color flooded into her face. "Please don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not the ridiculous one." He shifted so that his leg lay between hers. Her skirt was shoved up practically to her bottom.

"Connor." She stopped, and tried to calm the quiver in her voice. "Don't tell me any more about Novak. I don't want to dwell on violence and evil. I'm trying to think positively. I don't want to know."

"You can't run away from the truth."

She shoved at his chest. "I've faced enough ugly truths!"

"You don't get to decide when it's enough," he said. "None of us gets to decide. You can't control it. Ever."

"I can try," she snapped.

"Sure, you can try. But you'll just hurt yourself."

The bleak look in his eyes made the words she had wanted to say evaporate. Her chest was heaving, as if she'd been running.

"Please, Erin." His voice was low, impassioned. "I'll try to behave. I won't ruin your life. Just play along with me. Let me do my thing."

All this protective intensity, all for her. Yearning twisted her heart.

Connor had faced a lot of harsh truths, and he was still fighting. Still trying heroically to do the right thing. She wanted to grab him and say, Oh yes. Save me from the big bad world. And while you're at it, kiss me senseless. And for God's sake, don't stop there.

She gathered up every last scrap of her self-control. "Um, maybe I could be more lucid and reasonable about all this if you weren't lying on top of me, squashing me flat and ruining my suit. Do you mind?"

His face tightened. He lifted himself off of her instantly.

She kicked off the shoe that still clung to her foot, sat up, and curled her legs up beneath her. Connor hunched on the edge of the bed with his back to her. Silently waiting.

Her dream flashed through her mind: the way he followed her with such stubborn patience. Never losing sight of her, never giving up. She wanted to drape herself across his broad shoulders and hug him.

The decision made itself, sudden and irrevocable. "OK," she said.

He turned his head, his eyes wary. "OK, what?"

"OK, you can do your thing. If you're serious about trying not to ruin my life, that is. And, urn… thank you for caring."

He stared at her for a moment. "You're welcome."

His eyes flicked down over her body. Heat bloomed between her legs again, and she squeezed her thighs together and tried to smooth her hair back. Her blouse was disheveled. He watched her straighten and button and tuck with intense fascination. The longer the silence stretched, the more fraught with meaning it became.

"So?" She shot for a cheerful, let's-move-on sort of smile, but had no idea if she hit anywhere close to the mark. "Now what?"

He glanced down at his watch. "You hungry?"

She had been too worked up to think food, but all she'd eaten all day was a pecan sticky bun. "I could eat something," she admitted.

"Let's go to the restaurant downstairs. It's got excellent seafood."

"OK. I'll, urn, just pop into the bathroom and freshen up."

She was too flustered to pick out what she needed while he watched. She just grabbed the whole suitcase and lugged it into the bathroom. She closed the lid on the toilet, sat down and doubled over, shaking with a silent combination of laughter and tears.