Free Perfect Fling by Carly Phillips Page A

it been quiet?”
    “Very few folks in and even fewer out,” Edgar said, patting the log-in book in front of him. “How are you feeling, Miss Erin?”
    She grinned. An older, grandfatherly type, Edgar had been at his post longer than Erin had been of legal age. “No worries. I’m better every day,” she assured him.
    Edgar hadn’t been on duty when she was shot, but he’d been as distraught as Murray, the morning guard. She tried not to think about that day, but as she waved good-bye to Edgar, she paused by the front doors. Those were bullet-proof, but Erin had been outside when she’d been shot.
    Shaking off the thought before she stepped outdoors, she gripped the handle—and froze, suddenly unable to push open the door, let alone walk through it. Though she’d promised herself not to give in to fear, ever since the shooting, a simple walk through the parking lot was more traumatic than she’d like to admit.
    “Erin?”
    From a distance, she heard Cole’s deep voice calling her name, but all she could hear was the chirping of birds that fateful morning and the popping sound of the rifle.
    Dizziness assaulted her and dark spots danced before her eyes. Mentally, she was back in the moment, and not even the knowledge that it wasn’t happening now helped her move. Without warning, her knees buckled beneath her.
    Strong arms lifted her, and when she finally focused, she was wrapped in warmth, protected by a hard male body and enveloped in a purely masculine scent that triggered memories of a night she couldn’t forget.
    “Cole?” She blinked up at him, surprised to find his face so close, his lips near hers. Concern and worry marred his handsome face.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    He’d obviously caught her before she passed out and had taken her to a private corner of the lobby. “I am now.” She fought off the embarrassment of nearly having fainted, instead appreciating the safety she felt in his arms.
    “Panic attack, huh?” His serious gaze never left hers.
    She shrugged. “I guess.”
    “I know.”
    The certainty in his tone intrigued her. How was he so sure this wasn’t pregnancy- or nausea-related?
    “Miss Erin?” Edgar’s voice sounded from above her, interrupting before she could ask Cole that question. “Are you okay?” the elderly man asked.
    “She’s fine,” Cole said gruffly.
    “Can I get you something?” Edgar asked.
    Erin nodded. “Water would be great. Thank you.”
    “Be right back.”
    Cole refocused on her. “Dizziness better?” he asked.
    “Yes.” She ran her tongue over her dry lips, noting he hadn’t made a move to shift her out of his lap. And given that once she moved, she’d lose his warmth and security, she wasn’t in any rush.
    “The open parking lot scares me,” she said softly.
    “Jesus,” Cole muttered at the admission, his arms tightening around her. He’d taken one look at her pale face, recognized the signs of panic, and grabbed her before her knees buckled. “Nobody’s going to hurt you again.” They’d have to go through him first.
    The trust in her eyes humbled him, and he hoped he could live up to it. The same thing working in his favor also weighed against him. Cole was protecting a woman in whom he had an emotional investment—a definite problem. But instead of making him weak, he swore to himself his emotions would make him stronger, more vigilant and aware, instead of less.
    Knowing she needed him, whether she wanted to or not, gave him a type of fortitude he hadn’t known was in his genetic makeup.
She’s mine,
he thought, tightening his arms around her.
Mine
to protect, he amended, knowing the distinction was of the utmost importance in both keeping her safe and giving him the distance he needed to do his job and not hurt her when he left on his next case.
    “I know my fear isn’t rational; it’s psychological.” She glanced down, her long eyelashes dark against her pale skin.
    “It’s like PTSD,” he explained, attempting to