Deadly Obsession (17 page)

He nodded. “Okay. Let's get dinner and eat it at the house to celebrate coming home.”

Jillian sat back in her seat, realizing how good it felt to have someone with whom to share her triumphs as well as her struggles. It felt natural to include Chance. Some of her happiness faded at the thought of his departure after the wedding. She pushed it to the back of her mind, determined to enjoy his company while he was there.

At the café, they ordered two steak dinners to go, telling Nora about the steak Mortimer had insisted they give him in exchange for information.

“Well, at least he knows we keep good steaks in our refrigerator. He needs to come out of the woods more often.”

“Does he work anywhere?”

Nora nodded. “He's a writer. What he writes, I haven't a clue. I believe he uses a pen name to keep anyone from stalking him.”

Jillian laughed. “I don't think he has to worry about that. That wolf of his would keep the stalkers away.”

“I couldn't even bribe it with the steak,” Chance added.

“Hmm.” Nora's brows lowered. “I'll have to remember that. No more steaks for that man. He can come to the café for the next one. What did you learn from Alan Thompson?”

“He isn't involved.” Jillian accepted a cup of coffee from Nora and sipped the fragrant brew. “Chance checked his references for last night. He was where he said he was. And I just don't think he would do it.”

“I remember when Julia was missing.” Nora poured a cup of coffee for Chance and one for herself. “No man looked harder or longer than Alan Thompson. He loved that little girl, and he loved Sarah. I wish he could have gotten his act together before he lost them.”

“Yeah, he's still beating himself up over their loss, even after all the years.”

“Did he know where Sarah and Julia ended up?” Nora asked.

Jillian shook her head. “No.”

Nora left them to check on their meal and returned with two covered plastic plates and plastic utensils. “You sure you don't want to stay and eat here?”

“Thanks, Nora,” Jillian said. “I need to get back to the house. I hope that with me staying there, whoever vandalized it won't try it again.”

“I'll make sure Tom sends a unit by to check on you.”

Chance smiled. “It's nice having connections. Tell him thanks from us.”

Jillian's heart fluttered and heat filled her insides. Chance had said
us
as if they were together. She quickly squashed that thought. She'd only known the man a couple days and slept with him once. That didn't constitute a lasting relationship. It would be foolish of her to hang her hopes based on that short a time frame.

With a house and herself under attack, she didn't really have the time to dedicate to falling in love with a stranger.

They made the drive back to the house in silence. As they cleared the tree-lined drive and the headlights shone on the structure, Jillian sighed in relief.

“Why the big sigh?” Chance said as he shifted into Park.

“No new graffiti, and the house is still standing. I'd say that's a plus in my favor.” She grabbed the two plates and stepped out of the vehicle.

The construction crew had been careful to clean the path to the house, so she didn't have to worry about tripping over discarded lumber or tools. The vehicle headlights stayed on long enough to light their way up to the front porch before the automatic off switch engaged, plunging them into darkness.

Jillian handed the food to Chance and dug in her pocket for her keys. After several attempts to insert the correct one into the door lock, she opened the front door and reached inside to switch on the lights. The front entrance lit up, chasing away the darkness.

Jillian checked the kitchen. “I still don't have cabinets and my table is buried beneath all my other furniture, so I suggest we eat in one of two rooms habitable at this time.”

“And that would be?”

She pointed up the stairs. “My bedroom.” The butterflies in her belly took flight. “Unless you want to find some boards or an empty paint bucket to sit on. Or we could sit on the toilet and the edge of the bathtub in the only other room that is functional at this time. However, I think my bed will be more comfortable. I had the guys move it upstairs when they finished painting the room.”

“I'll check all the windows and doors before we go up.”

Jillian found her box of linens and grabbed towels, sheets, pillows and a blanket.

Chance made a quick run through each room on the ground floor and a trip to the basement to secure the two small windows there.

With no desire to start up the stairs to the second floor without him, Jillian waited until Chance was done with his security check. She hated to pander to the element of fear that had taken root since the wreck, but she wasn't ready to go it alone yet.

Chance appeared in front of her. “Ready?”

She nodded, handed over the linens and let him take the lead while she followed with the plates of food.

They made their way to the master suite at the end of the hallway, stopping in every doorway long enough to check for intruders and test the locks on the windows.

“Are we good for the night?” Jillian asked.

“We're good.” He tossed the linens on the mattress. “I don't know about you, but I'm hungry.”

“Me, too.” Jillian handed a plate to him and removed the cover from hers. The smell of grilled steak made her mouth water.

They ate in silence, Jillian avoiding the elephant in the room, afraid to bring up the fact there was only one bed and two of them. It was one thing for passion to bring them together in the same room at the McGregor B and B, but sharing a bed without the requisite foreplay only made it awkward. Hell, he might not
want
to sleep with her.

“If you're worried about the sleeping arrangements, don't,” Chance said. “I have a sleeping bag in the back of the car. I'll be sleeping on the floor.”

Hiding her disappointment, Jillian protested, “It's not right. You're doing
me
a favor by staying here. It's only right for
me
to sleep on the floor and you take the bed.”

She didn't offer to share the bed. Since he'd suggested sleeping on the floor, he probably hadn't been sufficiently satisfied by their lovemaking to ask for a repeat performance. A lead weight settled on top of the steak and baked potato she'd just consumed, making her wish she hadn't eaten almost all of it.

Chance finished his food first and replaced the top on the empty plate.

“You can have the first shower. I'll need my bag from the car for my toiletries and clothes.” He nodded and left the room.

Jillian followed him to the landing and stood at the top of the stairs as Chance descended. She tried not to admire the breadth of his shoulders or the way his waist narrowed into the waistband of his jeans. Hell, she wasn't fooling anyone, especially not herself. With and without clothes, the man was too sexy to ignore.

When he disappeared out the door, she spun on her heels and returned to the bedroom to make the bed. She had the fitted sheet on and was smoothing the top sheet over it when Chance returned carrying both his bag and hers, and the dreaded sleeping bag.

Well, damn.
He really was going to sleep on the floor.

“Need a hand?” he asked, reaching for the other corner of the sheet.

“No,” she said, the answer coming out a little harsher than she'd intended. A bit of anger made her snap the sheet tight. “I can handle it. I'll let you test the water. Hopefully the hot water heater has had time to heat.”

Chance ditched her bag and carried his into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Damn again.
If she'd held out a hope that he would invite her to join him in the shower, she could forget about it. That door was closed.

Jillian finished making the bed and spread out the sleeping bag on the floor beside it, laying a pillow at the head. Though she was hurt and disappointed by his decision to pass on sleeping with her, she didn't like the idea of him on the cold hardwood floor.

A moment later, the door to the bathroom opened, emitting a waft of steam. “Hot water is great. I saved some for you.” He came out with the towel around his neck, wearing a pair of sweatpants and nothing else.

Jillian couldn't look away. The man's bare chest was like a magnet, making her want to reach out and touch it.

He twisted the towel and popped her with it. “Your turn.”

Heat rushed into her cheeks. Jillian grabbed her bag and made a run for the bathroom. How embarrassing to be caught staring like a drooling teenaged girl. She turned on the shower, stripped down and stood beneath the hot spray, wishing she had the nerve to invite Chance to join her. But she couldn't handle the potential rejection. She had to be sure that was what he wanted, not just something she wanted. Wanted so badly her body ached.

She'd have to seduce him the old-fashioned way. Not too openly, but obvious enough he'd get the hint. With a plan in mind, she finished showering, dried her hair and sprayed her skin with a tantalizing body spray advertised to set any man's blood on fire. Then she dressed in the filmy nightgown that had seemed to do the trick the night before.

Armed with every bit of feminine ammo she had in her overnight bag, she opened the door to the bedroom and stood there, letting the light from the bathroom silhouette her nakedness beneath the sheer baby-doll nightgown.

The pallet of sleeping bag and pillow she'd laid out on the side of the bed facing the bathroom was gone.

Moving into the room, Jillian looked for the missing man. He wasn't anywhere in the room. That niggling stab of fear rippled through her. She ran to the door, jerked it open and nearly tripped over the man lying at her feet, cocooned in the sleeping bag, his hands crossed behind his head.

He propped one eyelid open. “Everything okay?”

Jillian could swear the corners of his lips twitched for a nanosecond before his face lost all expression except that of polite curiosity.

“Yes. Everything is just peachy.” She slammed the door, stomped to her bed and climbed in. Alone. Wearing a nightgown that left her cold and cranky.

“Men. Who needs them?” She rolled onto her side, facing the bathroom, not the door behind which Chance lay. If that was the way he wanted it, so be it.

Jillian lay still, counting the number of breaths she took. When that didn't help, she rolled onto her back, her eyes closed, trying to focus on going to sleep. She should be exhausted, but her body hummed with a need she couldn't satisfy.

Damn the man.
He had to know she wanted him, and yet he'd purposely positioned himself out of her reach.

As she lay there stewing, her anger eventually faded. Maybe he was actually doing her a favor and letting her down easy. She should thank him.

Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

After a while she gave up trying to sleep and lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking of all that had happened that day. They'd questioned so many people, and what did they have to show for it?

A better understanding of little Julia and her family. Both parents loved her dearly and had sacrificed everything for her.

Jillian wanted to find Julia and her mother to let them know how much Alan Thompson regretted letting them down. Jillian closed her eyes, an image of a little girl lost in the woods, scared, alone and cold, materializing in her head.

A child's cry echoed through her mind. Not until it sounded again did Jillian realize the sound wasn't just inside her head. It was outside in the night.

She leaped out of bed, her body shaking, a lump of fear lodged in her throat. Torn between alerting Chance and looking out the window, she opted for the window. If it was all in her mind, she didn't want to disturb her bodyguard. If it was real, she was safe on the second story of her house and had time to get to Chance, if she needed him.

Inching her way to toward the curtainless window, Jillian dragged in a shaky breath, peered out into the night and screamed.

Chapter 17

T
he scream pierced the light web of sleep to which Chance had finally fallen victim. He tossed back the sleeping bag, shot to his feet and burst through the bedroom door.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Jillian threw herself into his arms, her body trembling so badly it shook him, too.

He held her, his hands spanning her lower back, his gaze scanning the room, taking in every detail. Nothing appeared out of place. “What's wrong?”

She shook her head and pointed to the window. “I saw...a...ghost.”

“Stay here and let me look.” He tried to pry her arms from his body, but she wasn't letting go. “Okay, show me.”

She eased away enough to walk with him to the window.

Chance looked out. That crazy fog the locals called the devil's shroud had crept in, surrounding the house, thick enough that it blocked the view of the nearby trees. Yes, there was fog, but as far as Chance could see, there were no ghosts. “Do you see it now?”

Jillian leaned toward the window, her body quaking. Then she let go of him and stared down at the ground. “It's gone. It was right there next to the house, all white and scary.” She shivered.

“Are you sure you saw someone down there? You weren't walking in your sleep?”

“I never went to sleep. I wasn't even remotely sleepy when I heard something outside. That's why I got up to look.”

Chance didn't like the idea of someone playing tricks on Jillian. If there was someone down there, he'd put a stop to it now. “Stay here.”

Jillian grabbed his arm. “Do you have to go?”

“If someone is trying to scare you out of your home, we need to catch him in the act.”

“But it looked like a ghost, not a person.”

“You'd be amazed at what illusions people can conjure with a little face paint, smoke and mirrors. The fog played right in with it.” He captured her arms in his hands. “Now, are you going to stay here, or are we going to let this guy get away with terrorizing you?”

She bit her lip and stared into his eyes, her usually light blue ones having darkened to the steely shade of storm clouds. “Be careful.” She released him and wrapped her arms around her middle.

Chance walked out of the bedroom and turned. “Lock this door behind me.” He pulled the door closed and waited for the sound of the lock engaging. Jamming his feet into his shoes, he dug in his sleeping bag for his flashlight. It was the heavy kind of flashlight that could be used as a club. He also pulled out the Glock he'd been issued when he'd gone to work for SOS. With the flashlight in one hand and his gun in the other, he eased down the steps without turning on the flashlight. Because of the fog outside, very little light came through the windows. A safety night-light had been installed near the base of the stairs, illuminating the first step and three feet around it. That one light gave him enough visibility to navigate the ground floor.

Moving as quickly as possible, Chance slipped out the kitchen door and rounded to the back of the house, where the master bedroom overlooked the stunning waters of the bay.

Nothing moved and he didn't see anyone lurking around the building. But then he could only see a few feet into the fog. He had turned back toward the house, ready to consider the ghost sighting a figment of an overstressed mind, when the sound of an engine revving found its way through the fog to him.

He switched on the flashlight and ran around to the front of the house. Stopping for a moment to listen, he could hear the crunch of gravel on the drive.

Damn. He'd left the car keys upstairs. Chance did the only thing he could. He ran, hoping to catch the intruder or at least get a description of the vehicle or a view of the license-plate number.

He sprinted all the way to where the driveway emptied onto the paved road before he stopped to drag in deep breaths. Whoever had been there was gone. Apparently Jillian hadn't been dreaming. Someone had purposely visited her house in the middle of the night, and it hadn't been a ghost.

He jogged back up the driveway and entered the side door he'd exited moments earlier. Again, he checked the doors and windows throughout the first floor and the basement before he ascended the stairs to the second floor.

Before he reached the master bedroom, a voice called out through the door panel, “Chance?”

“Yeah, it's me, baby.”

Jillian flung the door open and stood there, her eyes wide. “I thought you'd never come back. I was about to go looking for you.”

He smiled. “I wasn't gone that long.”

She pulled him through the door and closed it behind him. “Did you see anything? Was it all in my imagination?”

“I didn't see anything.”

Jillian's shoulders sagged.

“But I heard a car engine pulling away down the driveway. That's what took me so long. I tried to catch up to it before it got away.”

“Are you crazy? He could have run you over.” She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest. “Though it would have been good if you'd seen who it was, I'm glad he didn't see you.”

“You have got to get a phone in here. I could have called the police and had them watching for a car entering town.”

“I know. I'll check the status of the installation tomorrow while I'm in town working.”

He held her for a while longer and then set her to arm's length. “You'd better get some sleep.”

She curled her fingers into his T-shirt and stared up at him, her eyes two deep pools of blue. “Stay with me.”

Chance swayed toward her, wanting more than anything to do as she asked. “I can't.”

Jillian glanced toward the window and back. “I promise not to make a pass at you. You can sleep on the bed, and I'll sleep on the floor.”

He released his hold on her arms and tipped her chin up with his finger. “Really, I can't.”

“Why? Was I that horrible in bed last night that you can't even stay in the same room with me?” She gave him a weak smile. “It's okay to tell me. You won't hurt my feelings...much.”

He pulled her against him and smoothed a hand over her hair. “Just the opposite. You're making it really hard for me to walk away from you.”

“It's only a couple more nights before you leave Cape Churn. I won't expect anything from you.”

“That's not it. Sleeping with you is too dangerous.”

She stood still, her head tipped to the side. “Dangerous? What do you mean?”

He let go of her and sighed. “Since I came back from the war, I've had really bad dreams.”

“I have bad dreams, too,” she said.

“My dreams can be extremely violent. I almost killed a guy during one of them.”

Jillian's eyes widened. “But you slept with me last night, and you didn't have any dreams.”

He nodded. “That's rare. The norm is nightmares at least every other night.”

“How long has it been since you returned from the war?” she asked.

“Over a year.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Some nights I think I'm getting better, then I'll have another bad night and feel like I'm back at square one.”

Jillian tipped her chin upward. “I'm willing to take the chance.”

He cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead. “Darlin', I'm stronger than you. I could easily overpower you. I was trained to kill. That's not something that goes away.”

“You don't know that. You could be dream-free sleeping with me and not a threat at all.”

“I'm not willing to risk your life on possibilities.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “And you were amazing last night.”

Her hand curled around his fingers. “Would you at least stay until I go to sleep?”

He hesitated but finally decided he couldn't hurt her if he left before he fell to sleep. “Okay.”

With his hand in hers, she led him to the bed, climbed in and patted the mattress beside her. “I promise I won't make any moves on you. Just sit here. I'll go to sleep as quickly as possible.”

Chance sat on the edge of the bed while Jillian settled beneath the sheets and pulled the comforter up to her chin. She smiled, closed her eyes and rolled onto her side, away from him. “See? I'm not even trying to tempt you.”

Hell, she didn't have to try, and he was beyond tempted. Fighting the urge to touch her, to feel her warmth against his hand, Chance had to be satisfied with watching her, studying the way the light from the nightstand shimmered in her golden hair.

A shiver shook her body. She pulled the blanket closer and shivered again. Once the tremors started, she couldn't seem to shake them and Chance couldn't ignore her discomfort.

He really tried not to get too close to her, but after the first five minutes, he couldn't stand it any longer. Chance slid beneath the blanket and sheets, gathered her body close and pressed her back to his front.

Soon, she ceased trembling and fell asleep.

Chance held her until his eyes started to droop. At which point he slipped out of the bed, retrieved his sleeping bag and laid it out in front of the bedroom door on the inside, instead of the outside.

As soon as he crawled inside the bag, he closed his eyes, going over everything they'd learned that day. He was angry that someone had been there trying to frighten Jillian away. He vowed to check every inch of the house and the nearby grounds the next day, hoping to find whatever it was someone was determined to keep secret.

What could be so important someone would try anything to get Jillian to pack up and move out?

* * *

Jillian woke in the wee hours of the morning, cold and disoriented. She'd left the light burning on the nightstand to chase away the shadows. The blanket wasn't keeping her warm enough, and she was getting colder by the minute.

Her gaze went to the sleeping bag in front of the door. She bet the floor was hard, but inside the bag was probably toasty. A man like Chance generated heat.

Gathering her blanket, she wrapped it around her and slipped out of the bed. As she crossed the cool hardwood floor, she shivered, wishing she'd thought to turn on the heater before going to bed. Now she couldn't get to the thermostat with Chance's body blocking the door.

For a few seconds, she stared down at the man, willing him to wake and invite her in. When he didn't, she eased herself into the bag beside him and added her blanket to the top, congratulating herself on not waking Chance. She lay for a long time, absorbing his warmth and memorizing every detail of the man—his shape, the smell and the feel of him beside her.

He rolled onto his side and spooned her body, draping an arm around her waist.

Jillian snuggled close, content to be held. She'd do her best to sleep lightly in case he had a bad dream. After a while, she drifted off, falling into a deep sleep, free of dreams and ghosts.

She didn't wake until the sounds of men's voices and the roar of the generator woke her. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was back in her bed, buried in the covers, and Chance was nowhere to be found.

What the hell? Had she slept through him waking to find her in his sleeping bag? And how had he carried her to the bed without waking her? She stretched her arms, debating whether to leave the warmth of the blankets and go find Chance or snuggle deeper and go back to sleep.

A knock on the door made her pull the sheet up to her chin.

Without waiting for her answer, Chance pushed the door open and entered with two steaming mugs of coffee. “Thought you could use some caffeine. And I turned on the heater.”

“You are an angel.” She sat up, giving him a good eyeful of her sexy nightgown, fully aware of the men working below. She didn't care. He'd rejected her the night before; he might as well see what he'd missed.

Chance handed a mug to her and sat on the edge of the bed. “What are your plans for the day?”

“I have some work to do at my office in town, and then I'm having lunch with Molly. We're going to the tailor in Portland afterward for the final fitting and hopefully to pick up the wedding gown. I'll be busy most of the day—if you have something you need to do, today would be a good day for it. Not that you have to babysit me all the time. Since it will be daylight and I won't be at the house, you don't have to follow me around.”

“What? You just want to get rid of me?” He stood, fully dressed in black jeans, a black T-shirt and his shoes. “I'll leave you to get dressed. I want to take a look around the house and the yard.”

Jillian glanced toward the window at a dismal gray sky. “I take it the fog cleared.”

“It did, but it looks like rain. See you downstairs when you're ready.” He grabbed a leather jacket from his bag and left the room.

No good-morning kiss. No “I'm glad you slept with me after all last night.” Jillian sighed. The attraction might well be only one-sided. She'd have to accept that and move on. At least she had a busy day to take her mind off the man who'd been so much a part of her thoughts for the past few days.

Setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, she threw back the blanket, grabbed tailored gray trousers and a soft white figure-hugging sweater, and headed into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, dressed, brushed and wearing sufficient makeup to hide the faded dark circles beneath her eyes, she emerged from the bedroom, ready to take on the world. Shrugging into her charcoal-gray leather jacket, she descended the stairs into a cacophony of construction noise.

She was happy to see the old linoleum gone from the kitchen, the hardwood floors sanded and the old cabinets gone, making way for the new upgrades. The original hardwood floors in the living and dining rooms were being sanded. Her heart lightened. The house would be beautiful, warm and inviting soon. All she needed was to find who was causing her grief and put a stop to it.

Jillian stepped out onto the front porch and glanced up at the clouds choking the sunshine out of the day. It wasn't unusual for there to be clouds on the Pacific Northwest coast. She refused to be affected by the gloom. Pasting a smile on her face, she descended the steps.