Watching her, taking great care, Colin slowly combed free her hair until the mass of it tumbled over her shoulders down to her waist. “Your hair is long,” he said in a husky voice, realizing the hints of beauty he had seen earlier were correct. Her hair was a silken cascade that gave her an earthy, touchable look. No practical, sensible hair here, but a mass of vibrant hair that conjured up erotic images of it spilling over her naked body.
“This isn’t the real color,” she admitted, touching a lock while he continued to comb his fingers through it.
“It’s red, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I colored it, trying to hide from the men Sloan sent after me. It was useless.”
“They’re pros and disguises won’t do you much good. You’re right—you’re too tall to really hide from them.”
She closed her eyes, feeling as if she had received a blow to her midsection. Was she that obvious?
“Katherine, turn around and I’ll give your shoulders a massage that will help you relax,” he said gently, trying to get the erotic images out of his mind.
Katherine studied him, gazing into dark eyes that stared back openly, waiting patiently, something she had never known Sloan to do. “Thanks, but that’s all right.”
“Turn around,” he said gently. “You should get used to someone being nice to you.”
Colin received another faint half smile as Katherine turned around. Feeling as if he were handling fragile crystal, he reached out carefully and lifted the heavy curtain of hair. She reached up and pulled it all over her right shoulder.
With care he touched her shoulders lightly. She stiffened, drawing a swift breath that he heard and he made his touch even lighter, leaning close to her ear. “I promised you, I won’t ever hurt you. Trust me. Pretend it’s your friend in California rubbing your shoulders,” Colin whispered, damning Sloan Manchester and determined to erase her fear if only for a few minutes.
Katherine shivered, hating his touch, frightened, feeling vulnerable, remembering the early days with Sloan, when he had started out touching her and acting friendly and then suddenly he had been cursing her and hurting her. Remembering too clearly, she gasped and stiffened. His hands stilled instantly.
“Shh, Katherine. It’s all right. You’re damn tense. I promised I won’t hurt you,” he whispered as his hands moved again, lightly massaging muscles that she guessed were probably in knots. He rubbed so faintly across her shoulders, keeping his touch impersonal. As he began to massage more strongly, she breathed deeply. Gradually her fear diminished, until finally it was gone. She relaxed, closing her eyes, trusting him and wondering if she would be disappointed.
“I trust you, Colin Whitefeather,” she whispered more to herself than him. “Don’t betray my trust, because it has been more years than I can remember since I trusted a man.”
Colin heard her mumbling and leaned forward and caught the last of her words. His heart lurched and he wanted to cradle her in his arms and tell her she was safe. And he couldn’t. If he did, he would be lying through his teeth to her. She would have his protection, probably for less than twenty-four hours. And he couldn’t offer her anything more than protection while she was under his roof.
She slanted him a look over her shoulder and his pulse jumped at the curiosity in her green eyes and the faint smile that curved her lips. “You said you’re not married. You must date someone.”
While they studied each other, he shook his head. Her eyes were thickly lashed, the dark red lashes curving. For the first time he realized she wasn’t wearing mascara on them. She had made her brows thicker, covered her face in thick makeup that was dark beneath her eyes, but her lashes were without the goop she had on her face. He wanted to take his handkerchief and wipe it all away, but he didn’t want to alarm her again.
“No. I haven’t wanted to date since Dana’s death.”
“How long ago?”
“Two years, five months and about ten days.”
She twisted around to stare at him. With the movement, her hair swirled across her back. “You must have loved her very much,” she said with wonder in her voice.
“I did.”
“I’m sorry, Colin.”
It was the first time she had called him by his first name and a little tingle of awareness startled him.
She turned around to let him continue the massage. He parted her hair, placing half over one shoulder and half over the other—out of the way of his hands. It left a triangle of flesh bare along her nape and he stared at the short locks curling above her collar, the satiny skin that he longed to brush with his fingers. The shorter hair at the nape of her neck was red. As he began to massage, Katherine’s shoulders felt delicate, and Colin realized the baggy clothes hid a slender figure because he could feel her shoulder blades through the fuzzy sweater.
“How will you support this baby?”
“I’m studying accounting. I’m taking correspondence courses from Louisiana State. I want to eventually get a degree in accounting.”
They sat in silence until finally she turned and scooted away from him, smiling at him. “Thank you. That was relaxing.”
She kicked off her shoes and turned to lean back on her arms and stretch out her long legs, placing her feet in front of the fire. Her tummy looked like a small round ball and he was still amazed she was due in a week.
“You said you’ve seen doctors. Did they tell you that you’ll have a small baby?”
“The last doctor said about six pounds.”
“You don’t look ready to deliver.”
“So how do you know so much about it?” she asked, tilting her head to study him.
“I don’t. I’ve just seen women and worked with women who are pregnant. I’ve delivered two babies.”
“My goodness!” she exclaimed, flashing him a dazzling, dimpled smile that made his heart race. “I’m in good hands then, if this baby decides not to follow the schedule.”
“Don’t even say it. I was terrified both times. One was a woman caught in a flooded area and another was a woman in a car on the way to the hospital. Somewhere there’s a little Colin named after me because of my midwifery.”
She laughed, and he wished he could keep her smiling all evening. Sitting on the floor near her feet, he shifted around to face her, locking his arms around his knees with his back to the dying fire. “Feet cold? I can place another log on the fire.”
“No need. This is warming my feet.”
“What would happen if you called the hometown papers and let them know about the gubernatorial candidate?” he asked. Immediately the shuttered look returned to her eyes.
“I tried that long ago. He’s got control of his press. He has good friends there.”
“He can’t have good friends at every Louisiana paper. Keep trying.”
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