CHAPTER EIGHT
She awoke to a hand clasped tight against her mouth. Her eyes flew open, but in the darkness of the room all she could make out was a large bulk of a shadow leaning over her.
Instinctively she struggled, kicking out with her legs and twisting her head in an attempt to dislodge the hand that pressed against her mouth.
“Colette. Stop it…settle down,” Hank’s voice breathed in her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you. We need to talk.” Without removing his hand from her mouth, he leaned over and switched on her bedside lamp. “If I take my hand off your mouth, will you keep quiet?”
She nodded her head. As he pulled his hand away, she drew in a breath to release a scream. Immediately his hand clamped back across her mouth and he grinned with a rueful shake of his head. “I should have known not to trust you. Okay, we’ll do this the hard way. I’ll hold you down and you listen.”
Colette stopped her struggle and gazed up at him suspiciously. What was he doing in her room in the middle of the night? How had he gotten into thehouse? She moved her mouth against his palm, indicating the desire to talk.
He eyed her darkly, his raven hair spilling around his face to create shadows. “You want to try it again? I remove my hand and you don’t scream? If you cooperate, we can have a rational discussion and nobody will get hurt.”
Again Colette nodded. He took his hand away, but remained tense, ready to spring should she decide not to cooperate. “Rational people don’t sneak into bedrooms in the middle of the night,” she retorted, wishing he’d get off her.
The length of his body weighed hers down, making her conscious of the wild, evocative scent of him, the contours and planes of his lean, taut physique.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he answered. “Somebody tried to kill you today, and it’s more than a little possible that same somebody tried to kill you the night of the hayride. You aren’t safe here. I want you to leave with me.”
Colette stared at him. “You’re crazy. You’ve got to be nuts if you think I’m going to take off with you.” She shoved him off her and struggled to a sitting position. “According to what you told me, I hardly know you.”
“What does that matter? I can take you someplace where you’ll be safe from harm.” He remained seated on the edge of the bed, far too close for Colette’s comfort.
She eyed him curiously. “Why do you care, anyway? If we just had a one-night stand months ago, why do you care what happens to me?”
“I’m a humanitarian. I care about my fellow woman.”
“Yeah, right,” Colette returned dryly.
He leaned toward her, his breath warm on her face, his scent once again surrounding her. “Okay, I’ll tell you why I care.” With the tip of his index finger he traced down the side of her face then paused, his finger lingering at her mouth. “I told you I want to make love to you again,” he said as he stroked across the fullness of her lower lip. “I don’t like people to mess with my wants.”
Colette fought her impulse to draw his finger into her mouth, savor the taste of him. Her pulse rate increased, her breathing slightly painful as her bruised ribs bore the brunt. Desire beckoned, along with the sense of danger Hank exuded.
She batted his hand away, unsure whether she was more irritated with him, or with her crazy response to him. “How kind of you to worry about my welfare just so you can get what you want.”
“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.” He stood, as if unable to contain his energy. “Unfortunately, this isn’t a game, Colette,” he said tightly. “Don’t you understand that you’re in danger? Somebody is trying to kill you. If you don’t want to come with me for yourself, do it for her.” He gestured across the room to the crib. “Do you want her to grow up motherless?”
As he spoke her deepest fear, Colette got out of bed and faced him. “Get out, Hank. Before I call Bulldog and he physically removes you. I might be in danger, but I’m not crazy. And I’d have to be crazy to go with you. Now get out.”
He hesitated a moment, his eyes narrowed. “It’s your call.” He started for the door. “For now,” he finished, then disappeared out of the room.
* * *
HANK LEFT THE HOUSEas he’d entered, silently like a thief. Once outside he took up a position where he could keep an eye on Colette’s bedroom window.
Time was running out. Each day that passed made danger more imminent, the stakes higher. He was going to have to do something soon. In a little more than two weeks it would all be over. One way or another. It was definitely time for him to make a final move.
He tensed as a figure loped toward him, relaxing somewhat as he recognized Bulldog’s bulk. “Who’s there?” Bulldog asked.
“It’s me. Hank.”
Bulldog grunted. “You keeping an eye on things, too?” The scent of peppermint filled the air as he stood next to Hank. “If I find out who hurt Colette, I’ll kill him.”
“Drastic times call for drastic measures,” Hank returned. Now all he had to figure out was what kind of drastic measure he intended to use to fulfill his duty to his superiors.
“Too bad she can’t remember stuff, then maybe she’d know who was after her. I don’t remember stuff, but I don’t have that amnesia.” Bulldog pressed his hat more firmly on his head. “I’m going to walk the perimeter. I saw that in a movie one time. That’s how you keep things safe…by walking the perimeter.”
Hank watched Bulldog until his shadow mergedwith the night. The easiest course of action would be to tell Colette everything he knew. But he knew her amnesia was a kind of self-protection and he feared what might happen if he forced her to remember things before she was ready. If he pushed her over the edge of sanity, she’d be no use to anyone.
