Page 54 of Stalked

He winked at her. “Please don’t tell.”

“Would it ruin your big, bad reputation?”

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “They would all just want me to bring them some every day.”

Rosalyn’s laugh turned into a huge yawn.

Steve walked over and slid his good arm around her shoulder. “I guess that answers my question about whether you’re ready for sleep or not.”

He led her up the stairs to a bedroom. “This is my room. You can sleep here and I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

She grabbed his arm as he turned to go. “No, stay here with me.”

“Rosalyn, are you sure? What I did today...” His head dropped.

“A little overdramatic to be sure, Director.” She put a finger under his chin and lifted until they were looking at each other. “But the situation is complicated. If nothing else, I can definitely agree with that. So don’t worry about it. We have a big enough enemy to fight without fighting each other.”

“Then I would very much love to sleep in that bed with you, where I can hold you and know you and the baby are safe.”

She pressed herself up against him and smiled. “Well, I hope notjusthold...”

* * *

TRUETOHISWORD, Steve was still wrapped around Rosalyn when she woke up the next morning. Despite all her naughty intentions, she had fallen asleep not a minute after her head hit the pillow.

She eased herself away from Steve and out of the bed so she could use the bathroom and go make some breakfast. Actually, the infamous toaster pastries sounded just about perfect right now, although she still had to snicker a little bit.

She was dressed in one of Steve’s T-shirts, a soft gray one that fell to her knees even over her extended belly. She never wanted to get out of it. But it would probably look a little weird if she wore it back to the Omega offices.

Rosalyn made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, trying to rub sleep out of her eyes. She easily found the breakfast food in Steve’s pantry—he hadn’t been kidding when he said he didn’t have much food here—and started decaf coffee. She ate the first Pop-Tart right out of the toaster to ease her growling stomach, then poured herself some coffee.

Hopefully they would make progress today. Real progress. If anybody could, it was Steve’s team. They were trained and obviously good at what they did.

She grabbed a plate of the breakfast food whose name was not to be spoken and another cup of coffee to take up to Steve. They’d have to leave soon, but maybe she could talk him into a little naughtiness before then.

She stepped out of the kitchen into the front hall and froze.

An envelope sat there on the ground, a garish white on Steve’s dark hardwood floors. It had been slid under the front door at some point—she had no idea when. She could see her name on the front in bold letters.

Just like all the others she’d received over the past year.

The coffee cups slipped through her numb fingers and crashed to the floor, shattering. Rosalyn felt the drops of hot coffee burn her bare legs and feet almost from a distance.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the envelope.

The Watcher had found her again.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Steve heard the shattering cups and jumped out of bed. He instantly realized Rosalyn wasn’t in the room with him. Habit had him grabbing his sidearm before running toward the stairs.

“Rosalyn?”

He saw her standing there, perfectly still. Two cups lay broken at her feet.

“Are you okay? Don’t move. You might cut yourself. What happened?”

Now that he knew she was safe, his adrenaline slowed just a little bit. He set his gun on the hallway table and walked toward her.

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