think clearly for a minute. They also annoyed the hell out of her. To her it was like Vegas. They said what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas. Well, what happened in her dreams should stay there too, she thought grimly, and instead of answering his question, asked one of her own.
“What were you doing in my room?”
Mac’s head went back slightly, almost as if she’d punched him, but then he straightened and reminded her, “The nurse said you shouldn’t be left alone for the first twenty-four hours. She said that someone had to watch over you to make sure you were okay and there was no swelling on the brain.” He paused and shrugged. “So I checked on you every twenty minutes for the first hour or so, and then decided just to stay in the room so I’d be nearby if you ran into difficulty and needed help. I fell asleep there.”
CJ did recall the nurse telling the men that someone needed to keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours, but she hadn’t expected any of them to listen. She wasn’t their responsibility. Yet, Mac had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on her. Even checking on her repeatedly before taking up residence in her sitting room. It was really sweet and thoughtful, she acknowledged, and scowled at him for it. The last damned thing she needed was for him to be sweet and thoughtful on top of gorgeous and sexy. Was he trying to make her fall for him?
When he looked confused by her narrow-eyed glare, she realized how ridiculous she was being and allowed the expression to fall away before asking in a conciliatory tone, “Did Bricker wake you up, or was it my leaving the room?”
Mac relaxed a bit at her change in attitude and shook his head. “Neither. I just woke up on my own.”
“Oh,” she murmured, and took a sip of coffee, her gaze moving to the RV and the light shining from the windows. She’d expected everyone else would be sleeping at this hour other than her and Justin, so had been surprised to see that the lights were still on in the RV when she’d come out. It seemed like Mac and his sister weren’t the only night owls in the family.
“Marguerite and Julius were late risers on the island,” she said suddenly as she recalled that.
“They’re night owls too,” Mac said easily. “Most of my family is.”
“Yeah. Your sister and brother-in-law work nights,” she murmured. “And so do you.”
“Yes,” he agreed mildly.
“But you don’t have to,” she pointed out. “I mean, you work from home. Presumably you could work days instead of nights.”
“I could,” he acknowledged. “But I like working at night. It’s quiet. Most of the rest of the world is sleeping. There are less distractions.”
CJ nodded. She got that. In university, she’d preferred working on her papers and such at night exactly because it was quiet and her friends were less likely to call and interrupt, or drop by unexpectedly. She’d got a lot more done that way. She’d also preferred working the night shift when she was a police officer.
“You told Bricker you were off men,” Mac said suddenly. “Why is that?”
CJ stiffened at the question.
“Is it your childhood that turned you off men?” he asked when she didn’t respond. “An abusive foster father, or—”
“Why does no one believe me when I say I had a good childhood?” she interrupted him with sudden exasperation. “Honestly, anyone who’s ever found out I was raised in the system immediately concludes I must be horribly damaged by it. That I had to have either been sexually abused, beaten, or misused in some way. Why is that?”
Mac hesitated briefly and then said with blunt honesty, “Probably because you’re so closed off and prickly. People naturally assume a tough time in the foster care system would explain that.”
CJ scowled at the words. “Well, you know what they say about assuming things and asses,” she muttered with irritation, not liking that he saw her as closed off and prickly. She knew she was. Still, she didn’t like hearing it.
Sighing, she shook her head. “It wasn’t my childhood that did that. My early years were lovely. I was well-fed, never beaten or abused, and was given lots of attention and love,” she assured him, and then fell into a brief silence before admitting, “I told you I was named after the officers who found me. One of them was