Page 36 of Stalked

And maybe Rosalyn just wanted him because she wanted him. Not because of anything else but this damn heat between them. An itch that had just barely gotten scratched six months ago and had been driving them both crazy ever since.

Maybe he’d just sent her running despondent into the bathroom not because he didn’t want her—he almost laughed outright at the thought—but because of some ridiculous, completely wrong feeling of overprotection.

He was an idiot.

The bathroom door opened but her head didn’t pop out. “You know what, Drackett? You’re an idiot.”

His legs were moving before his brain had even processed what was going on. He caught the bathroom door just before it shut and pushed it all the way open.

Rosalyn’s mouth made a little o.

But the heat burned in her eyes the way he knew it burned in his.

“You know what? Iaman idiot.”

He kissed her.

There was no gentleness in the kiss. No finesse.

But there was plenty of heat and need and passion.

He lifted her up and set her on the bathroom vanity, then grabbed her hips and slid her all the way to the edge until she was flush up against him. They both groaned as her calves hooked around the backs of his thighs. Her fingers linked behind his neck, keeping him against her.

“Rosalyn, I’m sorry—” He began his murmured apology against her mouth, but she stopped him.

“No apologies. No talking. No thinking.”

He couldn’t hide the effect she had on him, didn’t even try to pretend he could control his response. He just let the heat take over.

As he stripped them both out of their clothes and slipped his arms around her hips to carry her with him to the shower—unwilling to separate their bodies for even the few steps it would take for them to walk—he hoped the heat consuming them both wouldn’t burn them away.

Leaving nothing but ash in its place.

CHAPTER TWELVE

They got on the road again early, after catching a quick breakfast. By lunch they were only a few hours from Colorado Springs. They stopped at a truck-stop diner just outside Dalhart, Texas, off Highway 87.

Rosalyn felt rested. She shouldn’t, since she’d been awake for a big chunk of the night for the best of reasons, but she did.

Steve had seemed fascinated by the changes in her body that had come about from the pregnancy. She was right at the perfect stage: not sick and tired all the time like she’d been in the early days, but not so big that she was waddling around. She knew that would be coming soon.

There were a lot of things unsettled about her future. What was she going to do when she got to Colorado Springs? Get a job and stay there? She had some money she’d saved from working at the diner, but not enough. Especially not when the baby came.

Another thing she and Steve needed to talk about. The list was getting pretty long.

She was concerned about the future but for the first time the thought didn’t send her into a near panic.

Maybe it was the knowledge that the Watcher could no longer find her now that the transmitting devices in her clothes were gone. Maybe it was because Steve was here and believed she was in danger.

But she had slept like she hadn’t been able to sleep in months. Even when she’d been at the Ammonses’ house and it seemed liked the Watcher couldn’t find her, she hadn’t slept this good.

She was sure having Steve’s arms around her helped.

But even if they hadn’t made love, if he hadn’t held her, she knew just his presence made a huge difference to her psyche. She wasn’t alone. And although there was a lot she and Steve still needed to work out, she knew it would happen eventually.

He was looking through her notebook now, the one with all the dates and recordings of the notes or messages the Watcher had given her.

“I wish we hadn’t lost all the notes in the fire.” She sipped on her iced tea, knowing she shouldn’t be drinking caffeine, but surely one cup wouldn’t hurt. She savored it as well as her large lunch.

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