She sighed deeply. “Of course we are. Nothing goes my way anymore. There’s a good chance I’m cursed.”
“Nah. If you were cursed, a firefighter wouldn’t have been right there when you got hurt.”
Her dark eyes scanned him. “Guess I got lucky. Without getting lucky.” She pulled the ice pack away from her face. “How does it look?”
“Bruised. But better.”
She yawned and turned her head gingerly from side to side. “I should get going.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he told her firmly. He laid a hand on her shoulder, pressing her back down. She didn’t object, probably because she wasn’t stupid. “You’re staying here for the night and in the morning we’ll figure out what happens next.”
She nestled her head on the pillow and adjusted the ice pack. “Are you staying here too?”
“Yeah. I don’t feel right leaving you here when you can’t even say where you live.”
“It’s not a very easy question, that’s all. It’s complicated. There’s where I used to live, where I live now, and where I want to live.” Her eyelids drifted down.
He took out his phone and shot Maya a quick text.
Kate is conscious. No concussion, but a little confused.
Can she stay there for the night?
Of course.
I’ll leave her purse and jacket with the owner.
Ten-four.
“Okay, you’re all set,” he began in a cheerful tone, before he saw that Kate’s eyes were closed. He modulated his voice. “I’ll be in the chair if you need anything. See you in the morning.”
“Thanks, bassist.”
“Darius,” he reminded her.
“Hot Darius,” she murmured.
Okay then. He supposed he could live with that.
He watched as her eyes closed completely and sleep relaxed her face. Her hand fell away from her head and the ice pack rolled across the pillow.
Gently, he removed it and stowed it back in his bag.
He rose to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. The cabin ceiling was so low that his fingertips brushed against it. His hands were sore from his stint on the bass. He didn’t get enough practice these days. It was probably a good thing that this night hadn’t ended the way he’d originally hoped it would.
He glanced again at the sleeping woman on the bed. She’d rolled over onto her side and was now lightly snoring.
He settled into the chair, which was designed for someone a foot shorter than him. Ah what the hell. He’d slept in more uncomfortable quarters than this.
He took out his phone and texted Maya one more time.
Make it back to Lost Harbor yet?
Why? My own father doesn’t ask me that.
Really? Harris asks me that.
He and Harris Badger jammed together sometimes back in Lost Harbor. When things went late, Harris had a habit of checking in on his drive home.
He probably likes you better because you play. I’m a big-ass disappointment ever since I dropped piano.
Bullshit. I know how he talks about you. He ain’t disappointed, Chief.
Whatever. I’m home. Wouldn’t be texting if I wasn’t.
He chuckled. Maya was a very law-abiding police chief, which apparently was unusual for faraway spots like Lost Harbor, Alaska. Most law enforcement officers had to be pretty flexible in dealing with their independent, quirky populations.
Is Kate a lawyer?
He had to know if Kate was Catriona Robinson, Attorney at Law, before this thing—whatever it was—went any further.
Good night.
Is that a yes?
That’s a “keep me out of this.”
Great. Was it possible that he’d just rescued the woman trying to evict him—twice? Worse, that he’d developed an insane attraction to her?
Damn his luck. Kate had it all wrong. She wasn’t the one who was cursed—he was.
He tossed his phone aside and stretched out his legs, which reached almost to the opposite wall.
Amazingly, in about fifteen seconds, he was asleep.
Chapter Six
There was a man in her room.
Kate almost screamed, but she remembered just in time that alerting the intruder she was awake might be a bad idea.
So she lay still, heart racing. A few terrifying moments from the past couple of months rushed back to her. Hearing someone at her window. Footsteps following her through her parking garage. The sound of a letter dropping through her mail slot.
Where the hell was she? This didn’t look like her LA condo. Or her room at Emma’s farmhouse. And yet she was tucked into a cozy bed and someone had obviously been taking care of her. A box of tissues lay next to her head.
Cautiously, she lifted her head just a bit. Would the man notice? Would he come after her? He was