Duty To Protect. Beth Cornelison

watch on the apartment.

      Ginny would much rather the police focused their efforts on watching the women’s shelter and tracking down Walt than on guarding her door.

      By the time she got off the phone, Riley had made them each a sandwich and had brought hers out to the coffee table on a paper plate. Motioning her back to the couch, he said, “Get off your feet. You need to rest.”

      When another knock reverberated through the room, she headed for her door, only to be sidetracked by Riley.

      “I’ll get it. You sit. Eat something.”

      She lifted an eyebrow. “You’re starting to sound like my mother.”

      Riley opened the door and sent Ginny a wry grin. Speaking of whom… he mouthed.

      “Why are there so many police cars outside? What happened?” Hannah rushed into the living room, and Ginny suppressed a sigh.

      “Standard procedure and basic questions, Mom. Nothing to worry about.”

      Riley stepped forward and motioned to Hannah. “Actually, Mrs. West, Ginny was just about to take a nap. Why don’t we leave her alone to rest? If you want to assist me, I was just about to help Ginny with some maintenance repairs.”

      Her mother divided a glance between Ginny and Riley. “You’re sure you’re all right? Can I do anything for you?”

      Ginny smiled. “Go home, and quit worrying. I’ll call if I need you.”

      “Promise?”

      “Mom—”

      Hannah raised her hands. “Okay. I can take a hint.” She walked back to the door and aimed a finger at Riley. “Take care of my girl.”

      He nodded. “You bet.”

      With her home now emptied of policemen and overprotective parents, Ginny felt the tension seep from her. She wilted like a deflated balloon against the sofa cushions.

      “You got a wrench?” Riley asked.

      She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

      “While you unwind a little, I thought I’d tinker with your sink…or was it your dishwasher that was on the fritz?”

      She lifted the corner of her mouth in a weary grin. “The dishwasher doesn’t drain. Floods the floor when I run it.” She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the past two days’ events crushing down on her. “If I have a wrench, it’ll be in the utility closet at the end of the hall.”

      Flopping over on her side, she tucked a throw pillow under her cheek and worked to find a comfortable position for her injured arm.

      “Holler if you need anything.” Riley leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

      Ginny was too worn out to respond, too tired to question why Riley’s chaste kiss caused a knee-jerk, uneasy stir in her gut. She’d analyze that incongruity later.

      Riley found and cleared the clog in Ginny’s dishwasher without much trouble. Putting the contraption back together and getting it operational again was another matter. A little over an hour after he started the repair, he was washing up and returning the tools he’d found in her closet to their rightful place.

      He’d heard suspiciously little from the living room since he left Ginny on the sofa to rest, and when he rounded the couch looking for her, he learned why. She was sacked out. Completely dead to the world.

      Dead.

      Bad analogy, Riley thought as a little shudder crept up his spine. He still had an all too clear mental image of her limp and nearly lifeless body lying in the burning office.

      Even now the blue-black shadows that marred her pale skin served as a jarring reminder of her ordeal. The thick cast on her arm stood in stark contrast to Ginny’s petite frame. Her fat, orange and white cat had curled up beside her and slept nestled against her chest much like a child’s teddy bear.

      Vulnerable came to mind as he studied her sleeping. She’d hate to be called that. That much he already knew about his seductive neighbor. She had spirit and determination and attitude in spades. And though she seemed hell-bent on doing everything for herself, never letting anyone see a hint of weakness, he still sensed something when he was around her that made him long to shield and protect her.

      Or maybe it was his own ghosts rattling their chains that made him so desperate to keep Ginny safe.

      He sat down on the edge of the coffee table and indulged in a closer inspection of her delicate features. Freckles paraded across her pert nose, and she’d long ago nibbled the lipstick off her full rose lips. An errant wisp of her white-blond hair tumbled across her sculpted cheek.

      As he watched her, a tiny pucker formed on her brow, and she shivered, goose bumps forming on her bare arms.

      Riley reached for the afghan on the back of the couch and stood to shake it out. Carefully, he draped the cover over Ginny.

      But the afghan had barely touched her before her eyes flew open and she bolted upright with a gasp. Her arms came up in a defensive move.

      The startled cat jumped down from the sofa and trotted off in a huff.

      “Easy there. It’s just me.” Riley sat back down on the coffee table and sent her an apologetic grin. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just thought you might be cold.”

      Ginny released a deep breath and, squeezing her eyes shut, dragged her fingers through her tousled hair. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

      “You think?”

      She shot him a look that said smart aleck, but tempered it with a sleepy smile.

      “Hey, you have every right to be jumpy. Your life’s been threatened twice in the last forty-eight hours. That’s enough to spook anyone.”

      “True. But I’m not usually so high-strung. I need to get a grip.” She lay back down and stretched her good arm over her head, yawning. “How long was I asleep?”

      “’Bout an hour and a half.”

      “Mmm.” Her eyes drifted closed again. “How goes the battle with the dishwasher?”

      “I think I subdued the monster. You had a clogged drain, but all seems to be well now.”

      She blinked. “You fixed it? Really?”

      “Really.”

      Her face lit with wonder and admiration. She clapped her hand over her heart and sighed airily. “My hero!”

      Though he forced his lips to match her playful grin, a biting cold balled in his gut. Her lighthearted adoration prodded his internal demons from shadowed corners of his memory. His failures from the past loomed large and dark in his mind’s eye. He had to swallow the knot of bitter defeat in his throat before he could speak. “You’re too easily impressed.”

      She shook her head. “Don’t be modest. You’ve saved me from tedious hours of dishwashing at a time when I don’t have a spare hand to do it.” She held up her cast-covered arm. “That’s no small thing. What do I owe you for your services?”

      He scowled and waved her off. “Nothing. Glad to help.”

      “Dinner at least. My treat.” She took the phone from the coffee table near his hip and waggled it. “You pick the takeout. Suddenly I’m famished.”

      The flirtatious spark returned to her eyes, the come-hither invitation that always succeeded in revving his engine. Despite the thrum of desire that swept over him, he couldn’t shake the nip of apprehension that nagged him.

      My hero.

      If Ginny had any delusions of him being heroic or worthy of her admiration, he was doomed to disappoint her.

      Just as he’d let Erin down.