“Not unless they’re rabid.”
“Rabid!”
She looked absolutely shocked. She must be from the city if she was unfamiliar with one of the most common animals in Texas. And surely she’d heard of rabies. Or maybe that was the problem. Some people had an unreasonable fear of wild animals and the diseases they might carry.
“You shouldn’t have to worry—” The static signaling a call from the dispatcher was immediately followed by a request for his status.
The woman in the doorway jumped as though she’d taken a .45 to the chest.
Ethan cursed beneath his breath as he touched the communication unit attached to his uniform near his shoulder. “Parker to dispatch,” he answered more curtly than usual. “Everything’s fine out here, Ben. Just a few curious raccoons.”
His attention didn’t waver from the woman as the dispatcher signed off. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, warm her hands between his larger ones, erase the look of panic from her wide brown eyes. Her palpable fear ate at his soul like acid.
“Would you like me to show you what made so much racket?” he asked gently.
“They’re still here?” She peered into the darkness as if she could see around the house. Her hands now clutched the thin peach-colored robe as desperately as they’d gripped the door frame.
“No, although they might be up that tree over there—” he pointed “—watching us talk about them. There’s a stack of trash they found mighty interesting. They were probably checking out the moving boxes to see if you’d left anything for them to eat.” He smiled, but she didn’t seem the least bit at ease with his good-ol’-boy routine. He decided another tactic was in order.
“You mentioned several possible intruders. Have you had any problems? This house was vacant for over a month.”
She focused on him immediately, her eyes even wider, her shoulders rigid. She took a deep breath. “No, not really. I was just letting my imagination run wild. There’s absolutely no reason anyone would know I’m here.”
He frowned. “No family?”
“Of course, I have family,” she said cautiously. “Just not here. And I haven’t told them where I’m staying…yet.” She shrugged dismissively, then tried a weak, unconvincing smile. “No big mystery.”
He hadn’t lost his instincts for investigation when he’d moved from Dallas to a quiet, small town. Miss Robin Cummings was running away from something—or someone. He’d bet his badge she wasn’t about to let her family know where she was until she was good and ready.
“Are you in some kind of trouble, Miss Cummings?” he asked calmly, stepping closer. He needed to understand her fear. As an officer of the law, he told himself. Not as a man reacting to a woman who brought out every protective tendency he possessed.
“What do you mean? Why are you asking me that?”
“Because that’s my job.”
“I’m not in any trouble,” she claimed, then paused. Her expression revealed what might be regret. “Unless you count an angry ex-fiancé and two parents who spent a fortune on a wedding that almost went off without a hitch.”
Dammit, he did not need this complication in his life. Especially this particular problem. How was he, of all people, supposed to be rational, objective and sympathetic toward a woman who had left her angry, frustrated fiancé at the altar?
But then her lower lip started trembling, and she whispered, “It was going to be a very elegant wedding.” She started shaking.
With another muttered curse, Ethan ignored his own prejudice and years of training. He ignored the little voice in his head that told him this was a very stupid move, as he pulled her into his arms.
ROBIN WASN’T SURE how she ended up in the police chief’s arms. She didn’t know if comforting overly emotional women was standard police procedure. All she felt was the overwhelming relief of being wrapped snugly against a hard, male chest, with his strong hands soothing on her back, his heartbeat steady against her cheek.
She shouldn’t crave the feeling. She definitely shouldn’t get used to the comfort. And yet her arms clung to him, and her fingers pressed into the muscles of his back as she breathed in the scent of clean male and fresh starch. She sighed and closed her eyes, unable to resist the security this man—this stranger—represented.
There was nothing personal in his embrace…or in her reaction to him, she told herself as her tears and sniffles stopped. He was simply…tranquillity. Understanding. Acceptance in an unforgiving world. And he hadn’t asked her about the foolish remarks she’d made. Her relief over the reprieve of not having to explain why she’d called off her wedding would have been enough to send her into his strong arms.
She could have stayed there for an eternity. Perhaps she did. Time ceased to exist as his hand stroked her upper back. Gradually, her breathing returned to normal. But then she realized his heartbeat was no longer steady and slow. And his chest wasn’t the only hard, male part of him pressed tightly against her thin robe and skimpy cotton sleep shirt.
He must have felt the same awareness, because his hand stilled and he tensed. Robin pulled away at the same time as he cleared his throat and focused on the seemingly fascinating architectural details of the porch posts.
“I’m sorry for acting like such a…wuss,” she said softly.
His smile appeared a bit strained as he looked back at her. He was embarrassed, she realized. Of her actions or his body’s reaction?
“A wuss?” he asked. “You were afraid.”
“Of raccoons.”
His smile faded. “And you were upset.”
She hugged her arms. Sooner or later, she was going to have to explore her feelings about the marriage that didn’t go off without a hitch, but not now. Not yet. “Whatever. You showed me there’s nothing to be afraid of.” If she didn’t count her response to the handsome police chief.
“I didn’t say that. There’s plenty to be cautious of out here. A lot of animals can be dangerous if they’re hungry enough. But we hardly ever get a case of rabies.”
She rubbed her arms against a sudden chill at the thought of salivating, fanged beasts. “I’ve never lived in the country before.”
He glanced quickly at his watch, letting out a long sigh. His expression told her he was battling some inner struggle. He was probably weighing common courtesy against correct procedure, counting the moments until he could escape from the crazy city woman.
“Parker to Dispatch,” he said into the device pinned near his shoulder. His wide, strong shoulders. “Ten forty-two.”
The dispatcher replied, but Robin couldn’t hear what they said. She was just about to ask what the code meant when Chief Parker spoke.
“You’re cold,” he observed almost casually. “Would you like to go inside, Miss Cummings?”
“Well…”
“I’d be glad to give you a rundown on what you’re likely to see out here. Kind of a Country Primer,” he added with a reluctant smile that was way too sexy for a late-night official visit.
She hoped his observation about her being cold was based on her rubbing her arms and not the fact her thin robe was revealing more than she’d like him to see. The idea of his noticing her breasts caused a reaction that she hid by folding her arms across her chest. The friction was almost painful.
When she spoke, her voice sounded husky. Breathy. Sexy. Not at all like an interior decorator standing on a front porch in the middle of the