Free Her Forgotten Betrayal by Anna DeStefano Page B

with you.”
    She was either relieved or terrified at the prospect of having him move in. Her eyes were still far too big for her delicate features. Her pulse was pounding visibly in her throat.
    “Until we know what’s going on,” he clarified, “I’d feel better if you weren’t alone any more than you have to be. Do you think there’s somewhere here that I could sleep and stay out of your way?”
    He waited for her to reveal the rest, that all she had to do was make a call to the same person he was about to check in with once he got to his place, and she could have a team of officers looking out for her instead of him.
    She inhaled. Her head dropped. She was probably ticking off the pros and cons of saying more to either him or Dawson. Then she reached out to him. Her hand on his arm was the softest touch imaginable.
    “You could be putting yourself in danger because of me,” she said. “What if it turns out there is something going on?”
    Her concern crashed into him. With it came a tidal wave of memories, of a thousand more of her touches. Touches that had once been his whenever he’d needed them. He stared at her bandaged thumb, rage growing that someone might have dared to threaten a defenseless, already injured woman. Let alone Shaw, who was worried about taking advantage of a neighbor. Meanwhile, the government officers she trusted to protect her were lying through their teeth to her. Which, while technically legal, wasn’t right.
    The uncharacteristic thought shocked him. Guilt was a wasted emotion when he was on assignment. He did and said whatever he had to for the job, and that’s just the way it was. But manipulating Shaw this way made him feel like slime.
    “Let’s worry about you for a while.” He stepped away. Taking advantage of her still-healing mind, while her cat rubbed against his leg as if he were a long-lost friend, pricked deeper at his conscience. “We don’t know for sure there’s anything to worry about, so let’s not borrow trouble. It’s the middle of the night. We should try and get some sleep once I’m back. It’ll be hours before it would make sense to call the local authorities, if you decide you want to.”
    “No.” She curled her arms around herself. “I’ll only sound like a paranoid twit. I assure you, I’ve had my fill of that for a while. Don’t call anyone. You’re right. There’s no real proof that anything’s happened, and—”
    Her words hiccupped into silence as he moved close enough to tuck another curling lock of her hair behind her ear. He could smell whatever ultra-feminine soaps and lotions she’d last used. Images of roses and thunder and a winter storm swirled through his mind, strong and delicate and haunting, just like Shaw.
    “It’s happening,” he said, forbidding himself from touching her again, or revealing more until he understood how far he could test her memories. “You’re not imagining the threat you’re feeling, even if it’s only coming from your mind. As long as you think you’re in danger, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll be here, Shaw. Listen to your instincts. Trust me to help you figure out the rest of this. Can you do that?”
    He was driving her toward the decision he needed her to make, so he could sell his continued presence in the mansion to his task force. Which made him nothing more than the same using bastard he’d been on countless other assignments. But tonight, the tools of his trade made him want to howl at the moon.
    “I do trust you.” She didn’t sound as if she particularly liked the realization. Her frown was so adorable he wanted to taste it. “God knows why, but I do.”
    He nodded, inching away, wanting to be closer and refusing to give himself permission. “Lock up behind me. I’ll come back through the front entrance. If you hear anything or anyone else, wait for me before investigating.” It made his stomach turn, the thought of her unwittingly hurting herself again. “While I’m