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His arms tightened around her. “A face?”
“A hand.” A tremble rolled through her, and his embrace got tighter.
“You saw a hand at your bedroom window? Trying to open the window? Trying to break it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe pressed against the pane, scratching at the glass.”
He kicked the door shut behind him and advanced into the room with her still clinging to his neck. “Show me.”
She untwined her arms and stepped back. She’d never been the clingy type before, but his strong arms had offered an oasis she couldn’t resist.
Time to buck up and be a math teacher.
She pointed to her abbreviated hallway. “My bedroom’s back here.”
He followed her into the room, and she tugged on the hem of her T-shirt, for the first time realizing she was dressed for bed…or underdressed. Then she remembered the wording on the front of her T-shirt, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Whoa! What happened to the curtains?”
“I did that.” She gestured toward the piece of curtain she’d abandoned near the bedroom door. “I had it in my hand when I stumbled backward.”
Colin prowled toward the window and yanked back the bedraggled curtains.
Michelle jumped.
He raised a brow. “Okay, what did you see?”
“I was just about to turn off the lamp on my nightstand, and I heard a scratching sound at the window.”
“Trees or bushes out there?”
“No. Sand dunes.”
“So you went to the window to check it out?”
“Well, I sort of peered out, and that’s when I saw the hand.”
“And the person attached to this hand wasn’t trying to open the window or break it?”
“Not that I could see. It was weird. It was like a disembodied hand. I didn’t see anything else.”
“The guy could’ve been crouched below the window, reaching up.”
Michelle sucked in her lower lip. “Or maybe there was no hand or no body attached to the hand. Maybe I imagined it.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I don’t know. After I screamed and headed for the door, I looked and there was nothing there.”
“He heard you and took off. Believe me, that was some scream.”
“How did you hear me? How did you get here?”
A red flush crept across his face. “I…uh…was outside your house. Your scream carried outside the house, or at least I thought I heard something. And when I looked at your house, I could see the lights still on.”
He’d been outside her house? “Why… What…?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I went out to chuck rocks at the water. Since I hadn’t seen a patrol car since I’d been outside, I decided to cruise past your house myself.”
“I’m glad you did. The hand freaked me out.”
“So now you did see a hand.”
Shaking her head, she shoved her hair behind one ear. “I don’t know, Colin.”
“Do you want to call the police?”
“I was on my way to do just that when you started pounding on my door. Do you think it’s worth it now? If there was someone outside my window, he’s long gone.”
He shrugged. “They can dust for prints.”
Her gaze swept Colin’s reassuringly large frame. He offered the only protection she needed.
“Do you think a murderer is going to leave his fingerprints on windowpanes?”
“Nope, but an even better argument against calling the local police is that I’d like to check the area around your window myself tomorrow morning. And I’d like to do it before some officer of the law tramps around out there.”
“That settles it then. I’d rather have you looking out there than the cops who are already happy with their suspect.”
Colin rubbed the gauzy material of the curtains between his fingers. “You need thicker curtains at your window.”
“There’s nothing on the other side except the dunes, and I have a fence separating my yard from the dunes.”
“Don’t the teenagers still hang out in the sand dunes?”
“Once in a while, but they don’t venture into my yard.”
“Maybe they did tonight.” He drummed his fingers against the window. “Do you have a sheet or something you can hang over this window?”
Michelle gave him a sheet from the linen closet and he draped it over the curtain rod, covering the window and the torn curtains.
“Thanks, Colin. I’m glad you were…taking a walk.”
“Me, too, but I hope that’s not your way of kicking me out of your house.”
“It must be past 1:00 a.m.”
“Must be. But if you think I’m leaving you here alone with disembodied hands at the window and see-through curtains, you’re crazy.”
A warm rush of…something sweet coursed through her veins. “I’m a mathematician. I’m too logical to be crazy.”
“Except maybe crazy about pi.”
She glanced down at her sleep shirt, her cheeks warming. “Oh, this silly thing.”
“I like it.” His blue eyes glowed with an inner fire that singed the ends of her lashes. “I like it a lot.”
She giggled. No, she laughed, because Michelle Girard never giggled. Then she ducked her head in the linen closet again. “I’ll get you a blanket and pillow for the couch. Unless you’d rather have a sleeping bag for the floor.”
“I’d rather— The couch will be fine.”
She held out the blanket and pillow for him, and he took them from her, grazing her arm with his hand. She held herself erect, as an overwhelming desire to throw herself against his chest again surged through her body.
He dumped the blanket onto the couch. “Leave your door open just in case. And if you see or hear anything, don’t hesitate to let loose with one of those screams.”
“Okay, I can do that.” She added a chipper note to her voice to defuse the double entendre. Or was she the only one thinking about a different kind of scream?
Michelle left her door halfway open and crawled into bed, her gaze darting to the makeshift curtain across the window. Had she imagined the hand?
She pulled the pillow to her chest and buried her face into its softness. Whether the hand was real or not, it had brought Colin to her doorstep. And he brought safety and security.
Or maybe he brought more danger than she could handle.
* * *
COLIN WIGGLED HIS toes against the chill seeping into his feet. His nostrils twitched at the smell of rich coffee wafting through the air. Heaven.
He shifted on the uncomfortable couch and peeled open one eye. Michelle buzzed around the kitchen, clinking dishes and dipping in and out of the refrigerator. Pure heaven.
He’d had an uneasy feeling last night ever since he’d left Michelle at her front door after their late lunch. The cops were complacent. That was a bad state of mind—especially for a cop.
He’d noticed the patrol car of one of Coral Cove’s finest cruising down the street once or twice, but Michelle needed more than that. He couldn’t sleep, anyway, and tossing rocks into the inky ocean seemed like a logical alternative. Once outside, his feet beat an automatic path to Michelle’s house.
He’d been on high alert, his ears attuned to the slightest sound. He hadn’t even been sure the noise he’d heard had been a scream or that it had come from Michelle’s house. But it was all the signal he’d needed.
“Did I wake you?”
He blinked and the vision in the kitchen came into focus. “The smell of that coffee woke me up. I know you don’t drink the stuff. You didn’t have to go through any trouble for me.”
“My dad was a coffee drinker, and I still have the coffeemaker—no trouble at all. Besides, it’s the least I can do for a midnight rescue. Black, right?”
She poured a cup of the steaming brew and carried it to him along with a sliced bagel on a plate. She’d already showered and changed from her sexy nightshirt with the sexy slogan into a pair of cargo shorts, a T-shirt and a light sweatshirt to ward off the nip in the morning air.
“Do you want some cream cheese with your bagel?”
“Sure.” He swung his legs over the side of the couch, clutching the blanket in his lap. He’d shed his jeans last night and hadn’t expected breakfast in bed this morning. Not that he minded.
She placed the coffee cup and bagel on the coffee table and retreated to the kitchen for the cream cheese. As she approached him, her gaze dropped to his bare chest. Her cheeks blanched and she averted her eyes.
“Here you go.” She settled the tub of cream cheese with a knife crossed over the top next to the plate.
Before she could draw away, he encircled her wrist with two fingers. “A lovely parting gift from my captors.”
She dropped her lashes. “What’d they do?”
He ran a finger along one of the scars crisscrossing his chest. “You don’t want to know.”
“I’m sorry, even though that’s pretty inadequate.”
“It’s adequate.” He released her and peeled the lid from the cream cheese container. He spread a thick layer on a toasted bagel half. “Are you joining me or did you already eat?”
“I already had something.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Are we going outside when you finish?”
“Yeah. Have you looked out there yet?”
“I looked out the window and didn’t see a thing. Just sand.”
Several minutes later, Colin finished off his bagel and took a last gulp of coffee. While Michelle carried the dishes back to the kitchen, he let the blanket slip to the floor and snagged his jeans from the back of the couch.
She walked back into the room as he was yanking his pants over his thighs. Pink suffused her cheeks, and he couldn’t help grinning as he zipped his fly. Despite the veneer of sophistication she wore, Michelle wasn’t much different from that bashful high school girl with the endless legs and silver in her mouth.
“Are you coming with me?”
“Of course.”
He shrugged into his sweatshirt and shoved his weapon in the pocket. In response to her raised eyebrows, he said, “In case the hand makes an appearance.”
She led him through a side door in the kitchen and he stepped off the concrete porch behind her. The back of her house abutted the sand dunes, just like his. The houses across the street from theirs, like Columbella House, had the ocean tumbling away from their backyards. They just had mountains of sand.
Her backyard was accessible from the front with not even a fence between them. “Anyone off the street can get into your backyard.”
“Yeah, well, I never had to worry about that before.”
They turned the corner of her small beach cottage where two windows faced the sand dunes. She pointed to first one and then the other. “Those are both bedrooms. The first one is mine.”
Colin eyed the bottoms of the windows, which reached about waist-high. Anyone could climb through those windows. Before he clumped through the sand to the window, he asked, “I suppose you wouldn’t notice any footprints out of the ordinary back here, would you?”
Michelle looked down at the bumps and indentations in the sand and shook her head. “You can’t really make out footprints in dry sand, can you?”
“Not really.” He shuffled through the sand and crouched beside her window. “If you saw a disembodied hand, it’s because the hand’s owner was down here. You couldn’t see the rest of his body or his face because he was hiding below the window and reaching up with his hand.”
“Why would he do that if he were trying to break in or even peer through the window like a Peeping Tom?” She hugged herself and hunched her shoulders.
“Maybe he thought he could cut the glass first before reaching in to unlock the slider.”
She shook her head and her light brown hair slipped over her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure he wasn’t holding a glass-cutting tool. He was scratching or almost clawing at the window.”
Colin mumbled more to himself than Michelle. “Why would you scratch at a window?”
