Page 24 of Lone Star Protector

Throughout the night, all those images and sounds had come rushing at her. Images of her bloody bedroom and those pictures. The stench and heat of the fire. The blasts from the bullets. All attempts to either rattle or kill her. And the incendiary device used to ignite the fire had come close to doing that since only minutes earlier, Nash, Ruby, and she had been in the house.

Caroline pushed that thought aside, something she’d been doing all night, but, of course, the reminder of that would return. It didn’t stand a chance of starting to fade until Bodie was caught.

Which might happen today.

She had to cling to that hope. Cling hard. Had to also put her faith in her mother’s team of operatives and the cops. They would find Bodie and Jordana, and the threat would end.

Bolstered a little by that hope, temporarily anyway, Caroline dressed in the clothes that Nash had arranged to be delivered by one of his co-workers. It wasn’t a surprise that the underwear, jeans, and top fit her as if they were her own.

Probably thanks to Ruby’s input.

Caroline would need to thank her mother for that later. Thank Ruby, too, for not putting up a fuss about her staying with Nash. Her mom probably thought seeing Nash would be like adding salt to a wound. It wasn’t. More like balm to that particular wound.

Soothing, warm balm.

Along with an amazing kisser.

She doubted though that Nash would consider that kiss as a form of comfort. Or a wise move. And he’d be right about that last part.

The kiss hadn’t been a particularly smart move since it was a distraction they didn’t need. However, Nash and she seemed to be on a sexual collision course, fueled by an attraction that’d been there since she’d first laid eyes on him. It hadn’t been love at first sight, but it had certainly been a powerful lust that didn’t seem to want to be denied.

She made her way down the hall and found Nash exactly where she’d expected him to be. In his work area. Even though it was just past seven, he’d likely been at it for hours. Maybe even all night.

“There’s coffee,” Nash said, motioning toward the kitchen counter. He was reading something on his screen, obviously something that had snared his attention since he only glanced at her. “And I made some eggs and bacon. The plate’s in the microwave.”

“Thanks.” No way could she eat, not with her stomach so unsettled, but she needed the caffeine to ease her throbbing headache.

“I didn’t see Jordana or Bodie when I looked at the window,” she remarked as she poured herself some coffee.

“No,” he agreed. “No one’s seen either of them.”

Now, he swiveled his chair around to face her. And they both muttered some profanity.

“You didn’t sleep,” he said, just as she said, “Seriously? How the heck can you look this good with little to no sleep?”

The silence came, settling around them, and the corner of Nash’s mouth lifted into a smile. “Your, uh, observation was more flattering than mine.”

“You mean because your observation alluded to the fact that my eyes are bloodshot and I look like hell?”

“You could never look like hell,” he countered.

Ah, the right thing to say. It made her want to kiss him. Then again, many things made her want to do that. But she saw something that stopped her.

A report on Jordana.

It was the one that Nash had no doubt been reading when she walked in, and she could immediately see why he’d been so engrossed with it.

“Jordana withdrew nearly a quarter of a million from her trust fund yesterday,” Caroline read aloud. “And she owns two guns.”

Nash made a sound of agreement and shifted back to the screen. “Guns she knows how to use. She’s taken extensive firearms training.”

“Not exactly the norm for someone in her social circle,” Caroline muttered. “Then again, neither is marrying a convicted felon.”

“No,” he agreed. “And Bodie isn’t Jordana’s only venture into the criminal world. She calls herself an investigative journalist, a crusader who fights injustice of those wrongfully convicted.”

Caroline sighed, and without thinking—definitely without thinking—she lifted her top to show the scars on her stomach and chest. All eight of them were well healed now but still clearly visible as were the other three scars on her thighs.

Nash swallowed hard, and that’s when the regret kicked in for her. She yanked the top back down.

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