Free Chance Encounter by Christy Reece Page A

Now.”
    Her eyes flickered open, and she blinked up at him in confusion.
    “It’s me—Brennan. You were having a nightmare.”
    He saw the fear, the absolute terror, in her eyes. Then, as she realized where she was, who he was, he saw her draw into herself. The fear receded, replaced by a blank calmness.
    How many nights had she suffered like this, alone? With no one here to hold her, reassure her? He almost reached out to her but stopped. He wanted to touch her, hold her…be there for her. Shit. How in the hell could he have known her for less than a day and feel this incredible need to comfort her?
    She sat up in bed, revealing she wore a white T-shirt. Her perfectly formed breasts showed clearly through the thin, transparent material. Brennan swallowed. Aw hell, he didn’t need to see that.
    “Have you been back long?”
    Her voice sounded slightly hoarse. How long had she been crying or screaming before he arrived?  
    “I just walked in and heard you…up here.”
    “Screaming?”
    He nodded. “Yeah.”
    She grimaced and scooted up in bed a little more. “Residual crap. Happens sometimes.”
    “You’ve had a few tough days.”
    “I’ve had better. But I’ve had worse, too.” She glanced at the bedside clock. “You weren’t gone very long.”
    “I just needed to pick up a few items.” Needing to get away from the intimate setting and the totally inappropriate desire rushing through him, he started backing away. “Come into the living room after you get dressed, and I’ll show you some things I bought.”
    At his mention of getting dressed, she apparently remembered she wasn’t exactly wearing street clothes. She glanced down, saw how see-through her T-shirt was, and slid beneath the covers again. The tinge of pink blooming on her face was both delightful and charming. Kacie Dane was a paradox of conflicting personalities. And as Brennan walked out of the room, he had the insane thought that he wanted to get to know every single one of them.

Chapter Ten

    Instead of throwing clothes on and following Brennan into the living room, Kacie took a quick shower and then dressed in a pair of jeans and a white cotton button-down shirt. She not only wanted to wash away the cobwebs from her nightmares, she needed the extra time to settle herself down.
    For the first time since before her abduction, she had felt a flash of desire for a man. And even more extraordinary, it had come in response to the heat she’d seen in Brennan’s eyes.  
    Her therapist had told her at some point those kinds of feelings would return, but she hadn’t believed her. Having desire for a man, being intimate with him, making herself vulnerable, wasn’t something she believed could ever happen again. And though she couldn’t say she wanted to just jump in bed with Brennan, feeling the beginnings of arousal was both heady and exhilarating. She clicked a mental check mark next to ‘feel sexual interest to a sexy guy’ on her list of mental health goals. Progress indeed.
    She entered the living room to find Brennan on the sofa and an array of items laid out on her large coffee table.
    “What’s all this stuff?”
    Brennan waved her over. “Come take a look.”
    Curious, Kacie went to the table and looked at the odd display, trying to figure out why Brennan had bought, among other things, a metal comb and a curling iron.  
    “I checked to see if you have a license for a handgun, and you don’t.”
    “No. Not crazy about guns. I do have pepper spray on my key chain, and I’ve taken several self-defense classes.”
    He nodded as if he already knew this. “Tomorrow you’ll fill out an application to carry a handgun. Then I’m going to take you to a shooting range and help you overcome your dislike of guns. You need to be able to use one without fear.”
    “I’m not—”
    “Kacie.”
    His voice, patient yet commanding, sparked more heat, and another ripple of arousal swept through her.  
    “Come sit down and let’s