Free Masters of the Shadowlands 7 - This is who I am by Sinclair Cherise Page B

buried in them. Hobbies are like zucchini—your friends and family can only absorb so much.”
    He snorted in agreement before loading a cracker with cheese. “Nicole quilts. Got one on every bed in the house. Couple hang on the walls.”
    Her hands stilled as a pang stabbed through her. Not…quite…pain. “Nicole?”
    “My daughter.”
    She hadn’t even considered that he’d have a family. He seemed to stand alone, like a cliff above the ocean. And yet what woman wouldn’t want him? She stared down at the long casserole pan. “You’re married?” Did he cheat on his wife?
    With a creak of the chair, he rose to stand behind her. Ignoring the way she froze, he put his arm around her waist, holding her firmly against him. “I’m divorced.” He huffed a laugh. “I’m a sadist, girl, not a cheater.”
    Even as relief streamed through her, she had to wonder how he could so easily say that. “I’m a sadist.”

Chapter Six
    What was that? Sam opened his eyes, frowning at the darkness in Linda’s living room. For the previous three nights, he had slept on her couch. Although she’d offered a guest room, he had refused. In a back bedroom, he wouldn’t hear a thing. He was here to catch the spray-painting bastard, not be comfortable.
    He listened but heard only the hum of the refrigerator and slight ticking of the ceiling fan. The atmosphere of the house was cozy, clean without being obsessive, beautiful without being formal.
    The first night, Linda had eventually relaxed after he’d talked her into playing guitar with him. Like Tanya Tucker, she had a low, rich voice that added a haunting quality to every song. He’d kept forgetting to play so he could listen.
    The next evening, she’d let him pull her down beside him to watch a spy thriller. Warm body. Soft hips and shoulders. She had fit against his side as if she belonged there.
    When she’d discovered he liked pie, he’d had homemade pie every night to go with her home-cooked meals. The woman was so grateful he was liable to put on twenty pounds.
    Don’t get attached to this one, Davies . He rubbed his chin, knowing it was already too late. She’d captivated him the moment he’d seen her, which seemed a mite odd. He wasn’t some pimple-faced boy to fall for a girl on first sight, but he had. Maybe it was a sign of going senile?
    Rustles. A thump . Sam rose. The sounds weren’t from outside. He tracked the noise to Linda’s bedroom and stopped outside, grinning. Was she playing with toys , having a good time?
    Then he heard her whimper, her voice thin with fear. “No, no, please. Don’t.”
    What the hell? Set to attack an intruder, Sam shoved the door open. A golden night-light revealed an empty room except for Linda thrashing on the bed in the throes of a nightmare. Hell, after what she’d endured, she probably had a lot of them. Her pale face gleamed with sweat. As her fingernails clawed the covers, his heart squeezed with pity.
    He took a step forward and stopped. Which would she find more terrifying: a nightmare or Sam in her bedroom?
    Probably him.
    But his jaw clenched at the sounds of her fear. Scowling, he set a wooden chair a few feet from the bed, then sat and rested his elbows on his knees. A deep breath allowed him to calm his expression. The little sub didn’t need to see an angry man at her bedside. “Linda. Linda, it’s time to wake up.”
    Her movements stilled and then started again.
    He deepened his voice to add a note of command. “Linda. Wake up now.”
    She gasped, and her eyes popped open. For a minute she lay as still as a petrified mouse. Then she turned her head slowly and looked around the room. Her muscles relaxed. Her gaze finally came to rest on him. “Sam?”
    “Good guess.” She hadn’t panicked at the sight of him. Finest gift he’d had in a long time. “You had a nightmare.”
    “You woke me up?”
    He nodded.
    “Thank you.” She sat up and pushed her damp hair out of her face. The covers pooled