My Deadly Valentine - By Valerie Hansen & Lynette Eason Page 0,20
the doorknob and felt his light touch on her shoulder.
“Hold on. Where’s your key? Don’t you lock your house?”
“I haven’t for as long as I’ve lived here. Nobody does.”
“Well, start,” Jace grumbled. “I don’t believe you country people. Do you trust everybody?”
“Pretty much, yes. We really have very little crime in these parts.”
“Yeah, except for the occasional homicidal maniac.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
Jace was just standing there staring at her, his arms slightly outstretched in a silent plea for understanding. She knew he had a valid point. She also knew that she didn’t like the lifestyle changes she was being forced to make.
“All right. I know I have a house key somewhere. I’ll dig it out and start locking my doors. Satisfied?”
“It’s a good start,” he said. “I’ll pick up dead bolts tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can get them.”
“When? Last time I looked, your hours were the same as the hardware store’s.”
“I can run over there on my lunch hour.”
“And I can do it as part of my regular patrol. If it’s the cost you’re worried about, you can repay me later.”
“I’ll never be able to repay you as well as I should,” Rachel said, meaning every word from the bottom of her heart. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come to my rescue.”
“You’d have managed.”
“Would I have? I wonder.”
“You could have always called your father.”
“And listen to him rant and rave and insist that I need a husband to take care of me? No, thanks. Been there, done that. Didn’t like it one little bit.”
“Is it the idea of marriage that you hate or your dad’s choices?”
She huffed. “That’s a very good question. I’m not sure. I thought it was both—until recently.”
She saw Jace’s eyebrows arch. A lump the size of a summer cantaloupe suddenly blocked her throat and stuck there. What in the world was wrong with her? Didn’t she have a lick of sense? One tiny kiss and all her decisiveness had flown out the window, along with her common sense—what little she had left of it after being around Jace for the past three days.
Three days? Was that all the time that had passed? Rachel was shocked to realize how briefly they had known each other. There were instances, like now, when it seemed as if they had been acquainted for ages.
And had cared for each other, she added, chagrined. At the least, she was unduly fond of him. Judging by the way he’d been behaving, he might actually share those tender feelings. It was possible. It was also unlikely. A nice fantasy but nothing more.
Was she ready to let a career cop into her dreams, let alone into her life? A short time ago she would have said no. Now, she had to admit she craved his company. The biggest question was, would she feel the same way once her stalker was captured?
Trying to mask a shiver that zigzagged all the way from the nape of her neck to her toes and back again, she insisted he wait on the front porch while she entered the quiet house. Her home. Her sanctuary. The first place in which she had ever felt truly at peace and in control of her life.
Crossing the small living room, she circled the end of the buff-colored leather sofa and proceeded to the sixties-style kitchen, flipping on lights as she went even though the sun had not yet fully set. Everything seemed in order.
“Are you okay?” Jace called through the open door.
“Fine. You can go.”
“Not till you check every room. How about the bedrooms?”
“Okay, okay.” Rachel shot him a begrudging look as she retraced her steps and headed into the hallway. A sudden chill made her pause.
Jace had apparently been paying close attention to the sound of her footsteps after she passed out of his sight because he shouted, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. I’ll just…” The mayhem which greeted her when she flipped on the bedroom lights took her breath away and made her gasp audibly.
“What? Talk to me, Rachel.” When she failed to answer promptly he said, “That does it. I’m coming in.”
She was not about to argue. As soon as Jace came up behind her, she turned into his arms and buried her face on his chest so she wouldn’t have to look at her bedroom. “Who would do this to me? Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said flatly. “But you’re not staying here tonight. I want you to go