Once Bitten, Twice Dead - By Bianca D'Arc Page 0,34

if they wanted to work with her. Normally, she avoided those guys who couldn’t overcome their chivalrous instincts to make life easier for both herself and for them. She couldn’t fault them for being gentlemen. It was actually kind of nice—when they weren’t on duty.

She preferred to work with the guys who could put that aside and see her only as a fellow officer. Because they mostly patrolled alone, it usually wasn’t an issue. Only once in a while, when they had to work a special detail, did they have to team up. When that happened, the chief knew her preferences and understood her reasoning. He was a great boss, willing to play to his officers’ strengths.

Xavier didn’t crowd her, but she definitely felt his company in her tiny house. He filled it almost to overflowing as she showed him the guest room. He dropped his bag inside and followed her back out into the hallway.

“This is the kitchen.” She felt him close behind as she gave him the nickel tour. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge or cabinets. If there’s something special you want, add it to the shopping list on the freezer. I usually go grocery shopping on Saturday morning…” She trailed off uncertainly. Her whole life was upside down for the time being.

“We can still go shopping on Saturday morning,” Xavier said softly from behind her.

She turned to face him, touched by the understanding concern in his expression.

“Or we can go sooner, if you like. Maybe tomorrow, on our way home.”

His words struck her as odd. It was weird to hear him talk about her little house—her haven—as home. Weird in a forbidden-fruit kind of way. She’d almost given up hope of ever finding that one special man she could share her life with, and her home. Having Xavier here was like playacting. A fiendish dress rehearsal for something she wasn’t certain would ever really happen.

She was convinced Xavier wasn’t the settling-down type. Sure, he was probably willing to shack up with her for as long as his mission lasted, but he wasn’t the staying kind. No, he had “love ’em and leave ’em” written all over his bad-boy persona.

“The bathroom’s down the hall from the guest room and my room is on the other side.” She refused to give in to the gentle magic that flowed between them whenever their eyes met. Sarah moved away, toward the short hallway. “Living room is on the other side of the kitchen. I’ve got a big-screen TV in there with surround sound. Make yourself at home. I’m going to shower and change before dinner.”

“I’ll cook something,” he volunteered, leaning one hip against the counter in an unconsciously provocative way. Every move the man made was sexy, whether he was trying or not.

“You don’t have to.” She backed toward the hallway—and escape—even as she protested.

“It would be my pleasure. Don’t worry. I know my way around a kitchen. Dinner will be ready by the time you’re out of the shower.”

She paused to give him a thankful smile. She hadn’t been home in over a week and realized only now, surrounded by her belongings, that she’d missed her little nest. She needed a moment alone to reacquaint herself with the secure home she had built for herself over the years. Xavier’s expression was filled with understanding and a gentle sort of compassion that was nearly her undoing. She nodded once at him before fleeing for the comparative safety of her bedroom.

Sarah took a long, hot shower, her skin turning prunish before she was willing to give up the luxury of the hot water beating down on her. All the stress of the day melted away under its influence and she began to feel a lot more confident. She was relaxed, too, though still unsure about facing the giant Green Beret who was clanging pot lids in her kitchen.

Whatever he was cooking in there smelled wonderful. As her stomach growled, Sarah threw on her fluffy terrycloth robe. The wound on her leg was pretty much gone, so she left it uncovered. It was just a little red, but judging by how rapidly she’d been healing, even that would be gone shortly. She didn’t want to take the time to dither over clothes. She hadn’t eaten much of her lunch and was feeling ravenous. The terrycloth robe was thick and full-length. It covered her from neck to ankles. It was more than decent.

Feeling a little wicked, she entered her kitchen a bit

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