Page 49 of Embracing Hope

Her mind automatically journeyed to last night’s events. There was something about the intruder that felt…familiar.

What was it, though?

She couldn’t figure out what it was but felt she knew him.

As she swam back to the bank, she gasped when she saw a man standing in the clearing—a man she wanted despite their differences. His chiseled features were harsh, and he had a deep scowl. His fists were at his sides. Had he come to watch her or pick a fight?

Hope walked out of the water, keeping her gaze connected with his. She realized the thin bra and panties she wore revealed her body, but she wouldn’t allow him to think he bothered her. She shoved her dripping hair over one shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to leave the house,” he said in a dangerous voice.

“Excuse me?” She tilted her chin.

“You heard me. Until we know who broke in you need protection. I do not completely agree that we didn’t file a report with the sheriff’s department.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Then I’ll be by your side.”

Her chest tightened. He was serious. “Look, thanks for the concern, but I don’t need a protector,” she said firmly. She picked up her shirt and dragged it over her head, little good it did. She knew when his gaze dropped to her breasts that the material had become see-through. Her heart skipped a beat or two.

“I didn’t ask.” He stomped toward her, stopping inches from her. She had to look up, way up, to see his face.

“Neither did I,” she smirked.

“This isn’t up for debate.”

“Is this what sex does to you? Triggers your testosterone into overdrive.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you deserve a good spanking?”

“No one has ever been brave enough to attempt it,” she wouldn’t let him intimidate her. “Did you also take an alpha-male supplement?”

He reached out and wrapped his warm fingers around her elbow. Goosebumps scattered over her skin. “I’m not joking, Hope.”

“Neither am I. If you’re expecting me to stay jailed in my house because some psycho broke into the house, you have another thing coming. I’m not afraid. There are hands everywhere.”

He released her arm, swiped off his hat and tore his hand through his hair. “Have you thought that it could be one of the hands?”

“That’s ridiculous.” She laughed.

“Rigs Fletcher,” he said in a low, husky tone.

He had a point. “It’s not one of the hands,” she waved a hand through the air and reached down for her jeans.

“And how do you know?” he said through tight lips.

“I just do. There was something familiar about him that I can’t seem to shake.” She stepped into the legs of her jeans and pulled them up her hips.

“You said you only caught a flash. Not enough to determine who it could have been.”

“Not one of the crew,” she said firmly. “They’re a bit unpolished but they’re good men.”

“Have you ever spent any time in the bunkhouse with them?” He cocked a brow.

“No, but I’m sure they’re just being men.” She tangled her fingers through her wet hair, trying to make sense of the mess.

“Men who are horny and get their rocks off from watching you.”