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Chapter Three (#ubeb5ecb4-10a4-5a9a-b1b9-6c74460d357d)
Rosalyn knew her actions bordered on reckless. Even if she hadn’t known she had a deranged stalker following her every move, leaving a bar with a man she’d just met would still have been pretty stupid.
He’d laughed—in a kind way, but still obviously thinking she was joking—when she’d asked if he was a killer or crazy. But like he’d said, no true villain would give her an honest answer about that.
Actually, she believed the Watcher would. If she ever met him face-to-face and asked him outright if he was her stalker, she believed he might actually tell her.
Steve Drackett wasn’t the Watcher. He might be an ordinary garden-variety psycho, but he wasn’t the psycho she was desperately attempting to escape right now.
And in that case, she was willing to take her chances with him.
She looked up at him as he led her to the door. He had joked about being a grandpa but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. His brown hair might be graying just the slightest bit at the temples, but that was the only sign whatsoever that he wasn’t a man fifteen years younger. His green eyes seemed kind, at least to her, but the rest of his face was hard and unforgiving. Stark cheekbones, strong chin. Definitely not a pretty face but very much a handsome one.
His body was well honed—the black T-shirt Steve wore left no doubt he was in excellent physical shape. His khaki shorts were quite appropriate for a bar in Florida on a May evening, but she doubted it was what he normally wore. She was positive the flip-flops weren’t.
“If you’re not a psychopath, what do you do, Steve?” she asked as they walked out the door. Humid air from the coast blasted them. The storm had moved out to sea, but dampness still hovered everywhere, a sure sign another storm would be coming.
“Present occupation is beach bum. I’m here on vacation from Colorado.”
They walked down the steps. “Mountains. Nice. I’ve never been there. Are you a bum there, too?”
He hesitated slightly before he smiled. “Worse. Management.”
He didn’t want to tell her what he did for a living. Okay, fair enough. She hadn’t told him her last name.
Of course, she was doing it for his own safety.
“Are you from around here?” Steve asked. “Do you have a bar you’d suggest?”
She didn’t want to go to a bar. Not somewhere the Watcher could hear them, see them.
“How about a six-pack and walk on the beach?”
He smiled down at her. “That might break some open-beverage-container laws, but I’m willing to risk it.”
Rosalyn didn’t know exactly what she’d been expecting when she’d left the bar with Steve, but the next few hours were not it.
They bought their beers and sat alone, where no one—not even the Watcher—could possibly hear them.
And they talked. About everything and nothing.
He told her about his wife—his high school sweetheart—who had died in a car accident twelve years ago. About places he’d traveled. Even a little bit about his job, that he was a manager in some sort of division office and how he sometimes felt more like he was babysitting than anything else.
Rosalyn was vague without being dishonest. She told him she had a mother and sister but wasn’t close to either—an understatement. She told him a little about her college years and her job as an accountant. When he made a joke about the size of her bag, she told him she never went anywhere without it. Told him she was taking some time off, traveling around a little bit, trying to “find herself.”
She somehow managed not to laugh hysterically as she said it.
Steve was a good listener, a friendly talker. He never made a move on her or made her feel uncomfortable. He seemed to be both completely at ease but at the same time completely surprised at their continued, comfortable conversation.
He obviously didn’t spend a lot of time picking up strangers at a bar.
At some point deep in the night—it had to have been nearly four o’clock but Rosalyn wasn’t sure—it began to rain again, gently, but enough that they couldn’t stay here on the beach any longer.
It looked like her reprieve was over. She needed to make her way back to her car. Maybe she’d catch a couple hours of sleep in it—the thought of being out in the open like that made her skin crawl, but what choice did she have? She was out of money. A hotel, even a cheap one, was no longer an option.
She stood and Steve got up beside her, helping her. She smiled at him. “Thanks for hanging with me. It was nice to have a peaceful night.”
“Been a long time since you had one?”
She was tempted to tell him about the Watcher. To share while they had complete privacy. But knew she couldn’t. Some middle-management guy from some business in Colorado couldn’t remedy this situation.
“Seems like it,” she said instead.
“Anything I can help with?”
She looked up at him. He was a nice guy. A nice, hot, utterly delectable guy. For the hundredth time that evening she wished she had met Steve under different circumstances.
“I’m fine. But thank you for asking.” She smiled, trying to make it as authentic as possible. Trying not to think about the darkness that hovered all around them that she would have to face alone in just a few minutes.
As if the weather could hear her thoughts, it started raining a little harder.
He touched her gently near her elbow. “I need to tell you something I probably should’ve mentioned earlier but couldn’t figure out how to do it without coming across like a jerk.”
She braced herself for bad news. “Okay.”
“My beach bungalow is about two hundred yards that way.” He pointed up the beach. “It’s a ridiculous room. Some sort of romance package. My colleagues at work chipped in and got it for me.”
She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. “Oh.”
“You’re welcome to come in. Get out of the rain. No expectations or anything like that.” He shrugged, the awkwardness on his tense face adorable. He obviously didn’t want her to feel pressured. “The peaceful night doesn’t have to end right now.”
Rosalyn looked out at the darkness again. She knew what waited for her there. Fear. Isolation. Panic.
Steve reached up and tucked a damp strand of her hair behind her ear. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to talk her into it or put pressure on her in any way. Just stood silently, letting her know he was there if she wanted to go with him but he was fine if she didn’t.
The lack of pressure, more than anything, helped her make the decision.
“Okay, just for tonight.”
She couldn’t take a chance and let the Watcher find her again. Find Steve.
He smiled and took her hand. They began to run through the sand toward his room. Like he’d said, it wasn’t far.
The oceanside bungalow was nice inside: sort of what one would expect for the romance package on the beach. A king-size bed with a teal bedspread and canopy roof. A couch and chair over in the reading-nook section.
And a huge heart-shaped Jacuzzi tub in the far corner.
Rosalyn looked over at Steve, who grinned sheepishly.
“You failed to mention the giant heart-shaped Jacuzzi in the middle of your room.”
Steve laughed. “I wasn’t sure if it would work in my favor or against me.”
“Are you sure you weren’t supposed to be on your honeymoon here or something?”
Steve laughed again, crossing to the bathroom to grab them both a towel to dry off from the rain. Rosalyn set her tote bag down on the chair in the sitting area.
“Honestly, I just booked a normal room in the hotel section. When I got here, I found out I had gotten an upgrade—thanks to my colleagues chipping in. I’m sure they scoped out pictures and knew exactly what they were getting for me. Including the huge roll of condoms.” He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the sparkling box on the nightstand. Rosalyn couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s nice that they like you so much.”
Steve shrugged. “They like to get rid of me for a week, that’s for sure. And a not-so-subtle hint to come back more relaxed.”
She had no doubt Steve was well respected, a good man. Guilt over the danger she was putting him in washed over her.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He saw her face and walked over so he was standing in front of her. He put his thumb under her chin when she wouldn’t look at him. “Do you regret coming here? Feel uncomfortable? If so, I can give you a ride wherever you need to go.”
She didn’t regret coming. She wanted to stay. Wanted more than just the safe haven Steve was offering.
She wanted him.
He looked so big standing in front of her. So able to take care of himself. Not someone who could be taken by surprise by someone else.
But she knew the Watcher didn’t play fair. He’d taught her that.
“No, I’m not uncomfortable with you. The opposite, in fact. I just—” She stopped, not knowing what to say. She couldn’t explain. Couldn’t take the chance.
“What?” he asked gently.
“It’s not good for you to be here with me, Steve. I’m afraid I’ll only bring heartache for you.” Or worse.
“Are you married?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “Never have been.”
He took a step closer. She could smell his damp skin, the saltiness of the sea air and something that was distinctly male. She breathed in deeply.
“Are you running from the law?”
“No,” she whispered as he moved closer again, his body now so close to hers she could feel the heat. She leaned closer, unable to stop herself.
“Then I don’t think there’s any reason at all for you to leave this room if you don’t want to.”
His lips closed the inches between them and she couldn’t think of any response even if there’d been a good one anyway. Instead she just gave herself over to the kiss.
If she was going to lose everything, she was going to have this one night with this gorgeous, strong man first. Tomorrow be damned.
The heat all but consumed them both. Her arms reached up to wrap around his shoulders, then his neck. She clutched at his hair, too impassioned to be gentle.
Steve didn’t mind at all. His arms circled her waist, then reached lower to cup her hips and pull her up and into him.
Both of them gasped.
He took possession of her mouth. There was no other word for it. Possession. His tongue stroked against hers and fire licked at them both. Her fingers linked behind his neck to capture him. Not that he seemed interested in being anywhere but pressed up against her.
“Rosalyn.” Her name was reverent on his lips.
She began walking forward, causing him to move backward toward the bed. His arms were still wrapped around her hips making sure they were fully pressed together. When his knees finally hit the bed and he fell backward, he lifted her—as if she weighed nothing at all—and pulled her on top of him.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he murmured. “It’s still okay if you just want to be here. Nothing has to happen.”
He would say that while she was lying flat on top of him? They weren’t undressed yet, but Rosalyn had no doubt they would be soon. In her experience most guys would call her a tease—or much worse—if she decided to call a halt to everything at this point.
“You would stop now if I asked you to?”
He threaded his hands in her hair and pulled her back so he could see her more clearly.
“Of course. Is that what you want?”
“No. Just most guys would give a woman a hard time if she decided to change her mind now.”
“Honey, a real man accepts that a woman can change her mind at any time and respects the word no if he hears it.”
Was it possible to fall a little bit in love with someone you’d known for only a few hours?
Rosalyn sat up, her legs straddling Steve’s hips. She unbuttoned her shirt and slowly peeled it over her shoulders. “Well, thanks for asking, but I have no desire to stop.” She pulled her sneakers and socks off and threw them over the side of the bed.
Steve crossed his arms under his head and just watched her. “Thank goodness. I would’ve stopped, but I sure as hell didn’t want to.”
She gasped as he sat up suddenly, forcing them even closer together. He spun and scooted them farther on the bed before dropping her down so he was now on top. She helped him discard his shirt, then pulled him back down to her.
His lips met hers again. No, she wasn’t interested in stopping. She was already coming apart inside. She held on to Steve and let his lovemaking chase away the demons that weren’t far outside the door.
* * *
THEY DIDN’T LEAVE the bungalow the entire next day, which was fine with Rosalyn. Who needed the beach? Especially on a cloudy, dreary day. Instead they made use of the bed and the couch and very good use of the heart-shaped hot tub. Steve ordered room service for every meal.
Steve’s colleagues might have meant the room as a joke—and heaven knew it wasn’t tasteful in its decorating—but Rosalyn loved every bit of it.
It was her own hideaway. The Watcher obviously didn’t know she was here. And as long as she stayed inside, there was no way he would find her.
She wondered if she could talk Steve into staying in the room forever. She looked over at him sleeping in the bed next to her right now, so late at night. His sexy face relaxed in sleep. It hadn’t always been that way. She’d seen his face tensed in passion or smiling as he talked to her and told her a story from his past. She’d also seen the concern when she caught him studying her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.
He was worried about her.
If he knew about the Watcher, he’d be less concerned about her well-being and more concerned with his own. Might even ask her to leave right away.
Every person she’d told about the Watcher who believed her had wound up dead. She wouldn’t take that chance with Steve. She’d just live in this little bungalow of fantasy until it didn’t exist anymore. Then she would go.
