“You’ll take my bed.”
Like she’d argue with taking that beautiful bed. Rose shuffled toward his bedroom.
But War stepped into her path. “But before you sleep, I have a few questions.” There was something about his voice…that tone…
Her head tipped back.
“You really think he sent me the picture of you and Dylan?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” A fast demand.
“Because I think I have been a target of his for a while. I think he wanted me isolated. He got me that way. He…watches his prey. Studies them. He studied me—and you. He figured out the way to break us apart.”
His eyes narrowed. “The night I gave you hell…you’d just found a fucking body?”
She bit her lower lip. Managed a nod. “Janet’s body.”
His gaze shot away from her. “Fuck me.” A ragged breath. “And you said the sonofabitch sent you those flowers that I saw on your desk?”
“I didn’t know you’d seen them. I-I threw them away as soon as I saw them.” War must have discovered the flowers before she had. She’d been late to work that day. “I found the delivery service that sent them, but they didn’t know anything about him. He did the order online, and it turned out that he’d used a stolen credit card.” It was an effort to stay upright. She felt so bone weary. “Any other questions?”
Silence. She took that as a no and started creeping for his bedroom again—
“One more.”
Fine. If he was giving her his help, she’d answer the questions he had. Rose looked over her shoulder at him.
“Just how much do you hate me?”
Her heart slammed into her chest.
“Because it must be one hell of a lot. You were living in this nightmare, and you never came to me for help.” His hands fisted at his sides. “So I ask again…just how much do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you.” Soft. Tired.
“No?”
“You just hate me.” With that, Rose entered his bedroom and quietly shut the door.
***
War’s head fell forward. You just hate me. Rose’s words replayed through his head. No, he didn’t hate her. Never had.
But he’d sure as fuck screwed things to hell and back with her.
All this time…all this freaking time…
She’d been in danger, and he hadn’t known. Some psycho out there had been terrorizing her, and he hadn’t known. No clue at all. What if the SOB had killed her? What if War had just found her body?
His fists tightened.
When it came to Rose, he’d always been a jealous bastard. With everyone else, it had always been easy to keep his control in place. With her? He’d had to fight to contain his emotions.
She was so gorgeous to him. A walking wet dream. She could smile and make him go rock hard. But with her, it had been so much more than just a physical attraction. From the beginning, he’d known that he was sinking deep…
Then he’d begun to feel that she was pulling away. Lots of late nights…
Then the pic had come of Rose and Dylan.
I wanted to pound my fist into that bastard’s face.
She’d shown up for their date hours later. From the moment she’d walked in, he’d known things were off with her. She hadn’t looked him in the eye. Her movements had been slow. Nervous. He’d thought she was there to leave him.
I was drunk so I said stupid shit. He’d pushed her away. Pushed her away when she’d needed him.
Fucking fuck!
And too late…when War’s head had cleared from the fog of rage and beer the next morning, he’d gone back to Rose so they could talk but…
The fucking flowers.
After reading the card, he’d left without seeing her. Pride was a bitch.
War had been set up. He got that. The prick out there had wanted him out of the picture.
I’m back in the picture, asshole. And you will not get her.
No matter what he had to do, War would make certain the killer hunting Rose was stopped.
***
He slipped out of the bathroom with the towel knotted around his waist. He’d needed to get that stinking garbage smell off him, and War had crept inside the bedroom, then into the shower so he wouldn’t wake Rose. As he made his way to the chest of drawers in his bedroom, his gaze darted to the bed. She was curled on her side, facing him, and one of her delicate hands was perched under her chin. Her features were soft, relaxed. Absolutely beautiful.
One long, sexy leg was kicked out from beneath the covers. She always slept that way. She’d told him once it helped to cool her down. He’d told her that seeing her leg had made him extra hot and—
Get clothes. Get out.
With silent steps, War stalked for his chest of drawers. He yanked out a pair of sweatpants. Since Rose was sleeping, he just let the towel fall before he yanked up the pants and—
“War.” Soft. Husky.
He whirled around.
Her eyes were still closed. His breath whispered out. Time to go. Obviously, since he was starting to have damn auditory hallucinations about her calling his name. Wishful thinking. The couch was waiting. He took a step for the door.
“War?” More fretful. Worried.
Scared.
Not an auditory hallucination. Rose was calling for him. The hand that had been curled under her chin flew out and stretched in the air, as if she was searching for someone.
For me.
Slowly, he headed for the bed. He didn’t want to wake her, but if she was having a bad dream—and after what she’d been through that night, a bad dream would be normal—he couldn’t leave her that way. “It’s okay,” he heard himself rasp. “You’re safe.”
As she would always be, on his watch.
The furrow slid away from her forehead.
But for some reason, his treacherous fingers reached out and still smoothed that delicate area. A light caress over her—
She caught his wrist. Her eyes didn’t open. “Stay?”
Such a bad idea. Bad for a thousand different reasons. And yet, when he opened his mouth, what he said was, “Yes.”
Chapter Four
“War?”
She turned toward him in bed and snuggled closer. Every muscle in War’s body immediately tensed.
Her fingers trailed over his chest. A soft smile tugged at her lips, but her eyes didn’t open. She’d been sleeping soundly, and this was not the wake up that he’d expected.
“You smell good,” Rose murmured.
She smelled good enough to eat.
Her nose nuzzled against his throat. “Missed you,” she told him, voice all husky and soft. Then she licked him. A quick, sensual little lick.
He was already rock hard. He’d been battling his arousal for her—hell, he didn’t even know for how long. It was kind of just a perpetual state for him when Rose was near. But at that little lick, his body jolted. “Uh, Rose…” He should move. Get out of the bed. Not curl his arm around her and pull her even closer.
The woman was obviously still sleeping. She talked in her sleep sometimes. It was a cute trait. Except…
She said she missed me.
He cleared his throat. “Ah, Rose?” War tried again.