Rolling out of bed, he grabbed his jeans and shoved them on, stepping into an untied pair of work boots on his way out of his room. The T-shirt he had tossed aside the night before was still hanging on the doorknob to the laundry room and he grabbed it with one hand as his other hand scooped up his weapon, which he had left hanging on the back of the barstool at the breakfast bar.
Under his breath, prayers he didn’t even realize he still remembered were being spoken. Damn it. Not her.Don’t let me find her…
As he sped down the highway toward her house on the river, he cut off that train of thought. In his rearview mirror, a pair of headlights appeared, and sirens flashed on top of the patrol car. He heard their distant wail. One of his deputies. God, please let somebody already be there…don’t let her-
Snarling, Kellan slammed his fist on the leather seat, rasping out, “Stop it!”
The sirens behind him went silent just as they turned onto her road. He slammed on his brakes in front of her house and jumped out, running up to the house as he drew his gun, swearing and praying from one breath to another. The front door was unlocked. Gritting his teeth, he pushed it open, some subtle tension inside him relaxing as he breathed in the soft, vanilla-scented air, like potpourri-or candles.
And paint?
But there was a distinct smell that simply wasn’t there… Thank You, God.
“This is Sheriff Kellan Grant…”
Darci heard his voice and sobbed in relief, rising from the floor and stumbling out into the hallway. She swallowed a scream as she came against a hard, hot body. Big hands came up to cup her arms as she slammed her foot down on his, hearing a muffled grunt, followed by…
“Damn it, Darci, why in the hell do you need the police? You’re dangerous.”
“Kellan!”
“Is there anybody still here?” he asked, moving up against the wall and pulling her with him.
“The lights are out,” she whispered, stuttering, her body starting to tremble. “I woke up…saw somebody…”
“Okay…okay. Take a deep breath. Calm down, listen to me. We have to check out the house. I want you to go back in your room and stay there,” he said, his voice changing to a firm, no-nonsense tone as he guided her back into her room. The broad band of light from his flashlight moved over the room and he checked the entire area out before he urged her down on a chair, snagging the blanket from her bed and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Stay here, sweetie. Okay?”
And then he was gone. She muffled the sob that rose in her throat as the door clicked shut, then the doorknob shifted a little as he checked the lock.
She couldn’t take her eyes off that door. The brass glinted ever so slightly in the dim light of the room and she stared at it, fascinated.
If it moved…was the person still here? What if he killed Kellan? What if he was waiting…a frustrated, frightened sound escaped and she pressed her hands to her eyes. “Damn it, stop! He’s a fucking cop, he knows what he is doing.”
But an odd little whisper in her head kept repeating, So does the killer…
Darci jumped as the lights flashed back on. A few minutes later, outside her door, Kellan said, “Darci, it’s me.” She watched as the doorknob started to turn. “Unlock the door.”
Swallowing, she forced herself to stand up and walk over to the door. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she turned the little latch, unlocking it and stepping back from the door.
As he came inside, she rubbed her arms, violently cold.
“Somebody tripped the power in the garage, and came in through the front door,” he said, lowering himself to sit on her bed, his eyes watchful. “No signs of forced entry. But we can see signs that somebody stood outside your window, where you said you saw someone as you woke up. A few other things… And the perp left a note.”
Darci read the script through the clear plastic he had tucked the note inside. Her heart tripped as the words started to make sense.
Don’t worry, Darci.
I’m not coming after you-even though he gave me a good reason to kill you tonight.
“You have any idea what that means? Who he is?” Kellan asked, once she had dragged her eyes away from the note and looked back at him.
“No,” she whispered, her throat tightening, vising down until swallowing was nearly impossible. She stared at the note again, until her eyes ached from the strain.
“Kellan,” she murmured, her heart slamming painfully against her ribs. “What is going on?”
Tears started to burn their way down her face and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. “Damn it, look at me, I’m shaking so badly,” she muttered, dashing the tears away. “Crying…and nothingeven happened.”
“That’s bullshit,” Kellan said, reaching out and taking her hand, rubbing it between his hands. “You could have been hurt tonight. Worse. We’ve got a maniac on our hands, and most likely he was the one in your house.”
“She…” Darci murmured, remembering the writing.
“What?”
She jumped, startled at how close his voice sounded. Turning her head, she looked into his eyes, only inches away from her face. Sweet heaven, those eyes… Licking her lips, she concentrated and said, “She. The handwriting looks kind of feminine to me. Although I’ve seen men who do write prettier than women. And vice versa. But it’s not just the handwriting. It’s the note itself. A man isn’t very likely to want to kill a woman because of something another man did.”
“Unless he thinks you’ve been doing something with that man that you shouldn’t,” Kellan said, but a brow rose and he smiled in approval. “So…you sure there aren’t any jealous boyfriends?”
Her heart slammed against her chest as his eyes dropped to her mouth. Running her tongue over her lips, she whispered, huskily, “No. No boyfriends.”
He muttered something under his breath and then he reached out, cupping his hand over the back of her neck and drawing her close. Darci went, hypnotized by the look in his eyes. His head started to lower and she could feel his breath on her lips as he whispered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
As his mouth slanted across hers, Darci gasped, reaching up and curving her fingers into his neck, feeling her nipples tighten as he pushed his tongue deep inside her mouth, one hand coming up to cradle her face.
A moan caught in her throat.
Seconds later, he had pulled away, his eyes dark, turbulent. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, reaching up and rubbing his thumb across her full, damp lower lip.
“I kinda wish you’d done that long before now,” she said quietly, leaning down and pressing her lips to his, this time sliding her tongue into his mouth, seeking out that sharp, unique taste of man. She closed her eyes in appreciation as she slid off the lounge to kneel in front of him.
One heavily muscled forearm wrapped around her waist, bringing her flush against his body. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her nipples drawn into tight, hard little buds that seemed to ache and throb for his touch. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she dipped her fingers into his hair, delighted to find it hanging loose and free, nearly to his shoulders. Thick, silky, it twined around her fingers, just like she had thought it would.
He tipped her face up, slowly drawing back and moving his lips along the line of her jaw, her ear, and her neck. “Damn it, you smell so good,” he whispered gruffly, and his low, heated voice sent shivers down her spine. “Taste so sweet… I’ve driven myself crazy wondering.”