Flashback. Jill Shalvis

of words. Did he mean that he thought there could be more than one arsonist?

      “So who beat you to the boat, Tommy? Who wanted to make sure there was no chance of extracting any evidence from it?”

      The answer actually gave Kenzie hope—because it meant that someone else could possibly be proven to be responsible for the arsons, maybe even someone who’d framed Blake.

      “There’s been at least seven highly destructive fires,” Tommy said. “Adding up to millions of dollars in damages. The chief’s ass is on the line, and so is mine. If Blake was still alive, he’d be behind bars. That he’s not doesn’t change anything. The investigation is ongoing.”

      “But it’s possible he was working with someone,” came Aidan’s voice. “Is that what you’re saying?”

      “No comment.”

      “Do you know who?”

       “No comment.”

      “You know something’s off, Tommy, or you wouldn’t be here.”

      “Yes,” the investigator agreed tightly. “Something is off, and…”

      Their voices lowered to a whisper. She leaned toward the curtain, but they were talking so quietly now she couldn’t hear anything but…her name. Definitely, she’d heard her name.

      Why were they talking about her?

      She scooted even closer to the edge of the cot and cocked an ear, but still couldn’t hear anything. Dammit! Blake couldn’t have done any of those things they’d accused him of. She knew it, and she was going to prove it herself if necessary, starting with eavesdropping on this conversation. Tommy said something Kenzie couldn’t quite catch, so she leaned even further, and—

      Fell off the cot to the floor. “Ouch.”

      At the commotion, the curtain whipped open. She tried to push herself upright but with one wrist useless and the other pinned beneath her, she was pretty much a beached fish. A nearly naked beached fish, with her butt facing a crowd of three: Tommy, the nurse and, oh, perfect—Aidan. She could see the tabloids now: Ex-Soap Star Mackenzie Caught Panty-less. “Ouch,” she said again and rolled to her back, gasping when the cold linoleum hit her bare backside. She sighed just as someone dropped to his knees at her side, and then Aidan’s face swam into her vision.

      “Are you okay?” he demanded.

      Sure. Sure, she was okay. If she didn’t think about the fact that she’d just mooned him.

      “Here.” After helping him get her back on the cot, the nurse fussed a moment, checking all of Kenzie’s various injuries. Luckily, Tommy had backed out of the room, vanishing, for now at least.

      “What the hell were you doing?” Aidan demanded when the nurse left them alone, too.

      “Oh, a little of this, a little of that—” Realizing her gown was twisted very high up on her thighs—which, of course, was nothing to what he’d just seen—she grabbed her blanket and tried to cover herself up. A little like closing the barn door after the horse had escaped, she knew, but she was mortified. Except the movement made her want to throw up, and she reached up, holding her head tightly.

      “Here.” He took over the task of covering her, quickly extricating his hands when he was done, not quite meeting her gaze as he sat at her side.

      Awkward moment…“So,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

      “Looking in on you.”

      Yep. And he’d gotten to look in on far more than he’d probably intended.

      “Are you all right?” he asked.

      “Depends on your definition of all right.”

      At that, his eyes cut to hers and he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, his fingers rasping over the growth there. He looked and sounded exhausted. “I’m sorry, Kenzie.”

      “For what? That I just mooned you, or that I’m here at all?”

      Aidan got to his feet, pulling the curtain shut again to give them privacy, privacy that she wasn’t sure she wanted.

      He’d changed his clothes. He wore a pair of jeans now, loose on his long legs, low on his hips, with a long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned over a gray T-shirt that seemed to emphasize his broad shoulders and tough, athletic build. “Your shirt isn’t red,” she said slowly.

      “What?”

      “Before, somebody in a red shirt was looking at me.”

      “When?”

      “I don’t know.” She rubbed her temples. “I’m out of it.”

      “It was a tough night.”

      “Yeah.” But he didn’t look like he’d just worked his ass off and managed to save her life to boot; he looked casual, relaxed.

      Cool as a cucumber.

      And so hauntingly familiar, not to mention gorgeous, that she couldn’t keep her eyes on him. How unfair was it that he’d gotten even better-looking with age? “Thanks for stopping by, Aidan, but you can see I’m fine. You can go.”

      He looked doubtful.

      “Seriously. I’m really okay.”

      She almost had him, she could tell, but then she ruined it by shivering.

      Without a word, he grabbed another blanket and settled it over her. She appreciated his sense of duty, but what she would appreciate even more would be his vanishing.

      Or her.

      Yeah, that might bebetter. If she could just vanish on the spot. Poof. “Okay, now I’m good, thanks. Really.”

      “Really?”

      “Yes. I mean you can’t even look at me, so—”

      Lifting his head, he met her eyes, his hot enough to singe her skin.

      “Oh,” she breathed, feeling her heart kick, hard.

      “I can’t look at you?” he repeated in low disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Kenzie, I can’t do anything but look at you.”