Free Deadly Abandon by Kallie Lane Page B

me what those people are doing in my home? And why are they in my bedroom? I want the truth and I want it now.”
    Sully met her urgent plea for information without a hint of emotion on his face. Instead, he straddled a kitchen chair and pointed to the coffeemaker; the passionate, compelling man who had comforted her in his arms last night had been erased. The man was all business.
    “You really want to know, cookie? Then make us a fresh pot of coffee and I’ll tell you. And I wouldn’t say no to a muffin to go along with the coffee. I missed breakfast this morning.”
    At those callous words, Breeana glared at Sully as if he were something unpleasant clinging to the bottom of her shoe. But, staring at him only flooded her with memories of the night before, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her, the knowledge of what she’d wanted to do in those arms. Thinking about the closeness they had shared only made the moment worse. She marched to the table and sank into the chair opposite his.
    “If you want coffee and a muffin so badly, you can get them yourself. This isn’t a restaurant and I’m not Rachael Ray.”
    “Sure, turn me loose on the coffeepot,” he said, his voice soft and even. He unfolded his large frame from the chair and moved to the counter to grind coffee beans.
    As he set up the coffee maker, Breeana dialed Cody on the phone intercom to let him know there were sleuths looking for clues in her bedroom. Clues to what, for heaven’s sake? She didn’t know. But, in spite of her growing alarm, she couldn’t help noticing Sully smelled delicious, shower gel, underlying woodsy cologne, and his own virile scent taunted and teased.
    His body was as big and powerful as she remembered. She wanted to throw herself on his mercy and beg him to make love to her right there on the floor. Ridiculous.
    Breeana girl, face it, you need major professional help. One bad scare and you’re ready to tumble at the man’s feet.
    Why, even Tom hadn’t elicited this kind of response from her hormone-frenzied self. Her pheromones were so out of whack her senses were having a field day.
    While he got his snack, she satisfied herself by drilling holes in his back with a glare that could melt polar ice. Oblivious, he grabbed a couple of homemade muffins from a container on the counter and placed them on a plate. Once the coffee was ready, he poured two cups and returned to the table, setting one in front of her.
    “Here. You might want to add a little brandy to yours.”
    Brandy? At eight o’clock in the morning? Breeana almost snorted. The cop was certifiable if he thought alcohol would help. “Will you just get on with it? Tell me what’s going on.”
    “Have it your way.” His eyes held hers from across the table, his expression unreadable. Shivers ghosted along her spine, intuition warning Breeana she wouldn’t like what he had to say.
    “Here’s the thing. I believe the person who attacked you last night has already been inside your house. It’s why I brought Denise and Pete with me to gather evidence.”
    “What? You think they’ll find evidence in my bedroom ?” Breeana jumped to her feet and toppled her chair in the process. She felt her face flush a bright crimson. “Have you lost your mind? What makes you think the guy has been inside my house? Do you honestly believe I have a parade of men sliding between my sheets on any given night? Of all the filthy-minded—”
    “Calm down and let me explain.”
    He crossed his arms over his chest and quirked an eyebrow in her direction, waiting for her anger to run its course and for her to take a seat again. She righted the chair and dropped into it.
    “I think the person who attacked you has been stalking you for a while. And, okay, I’m guessing he’s been inside your home. It’s part of his methodology, and he’s done this before.”
    Her eyes searched his over the rim of her mug. She understood. “You’re talking about Rainey and Miranda, aren’t