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Her Cowboy Distraction(17)

By:Carla Cassidy


Lizzy's attacker had warned her to get out of town. Why? Why would her  leaving town be important enough to somebody for him to attack her? What  would happen if she didn't heed the warning and remained here?

She would be the first woman in his house since Janice had died, and the  idea of having Lizzy beneath his roof, albeit in one of his guest  rooms, both excited and terrified him.                       
       
           



       

He'd offered to take on the responsibility of her for safety reasons and  certainly had no intention of offering her anything more than room and  board, his protection and friendship.

But, he had nothing more to offer her. No matter how much he wanted to  taste her lips, no matter how much he wanted her in his bed, he wasn't  about to do anything that might make her believe there was a future  there with him, not that she'd given any indication that she wanted one.

He just wanted to keep her safe, and he hoped he was doing the right  thing by bringing her home with him. The last thing he wanted was to be  responsible in any way for another woman's death.

* * *

Half an hour later, Lizzy followed behind Daniel's truck in her own car.  She had no idea if she was doing the right thing or not by going home  with Daniel. His offer had shocked her, and the fact that she'd accepted  his offer had equally stunned her. But, there was no question that she  was afraid, and the only people she truly trusted in this town were her  waitress buddies, Mary and Daniel.

She kept telling herself she needed distance from Daniel, that he was  the first person in her travels who held a threat to her plans, to her  promise to her mother. He had the potential to be the right man, but it  was definitely the wrong time in her life to entertain any kind of  romantic thoughts.

Don't be silly, she told herself. He was still tightly bound in love to  the wife he'd lost. He'd given her no indication that he was ready to  move on. Rather, to the contrary, he'd made it clear that he had no  desire to move on with anyone.

He'd offered her a safe haven, and right now that's all she wanted. If  she'd had to stay in that cabin, she would have never slept again. She  wasn't worried about Rusty, who was a tough older man, but she was  grateful that Sheriff Evans was making other arrangements for Courtney  and Garrett.

Get out of town, bitch. The words thundered in her brain, and she  clutched the steering wheel with tightened fingers. Who would want her  out of town, and why? She wasn't a threat to anyone. She didn't know  anything that might harm anyone. She had no secret knowledge that could  destroy a marriage or wreck a business. Even though she had discovered  Candy's body, she certainly had no information that could point a finger  to her killer.

It didn't make sense, and when something didn't make sense it worried  her. It also didn't make sense that on some level she was eager to see  Daniel's home, to see the things he surrounded himself with every day,  things that might tell her more about the man.

And even though she'd be leaving there in a couple of days or so, she  wanted to know more about Daniel the man. There was no question that in  the week she'd been spending time with him, some of the dark shadows in  his eyes had abated.

Mary had warned Lizzy not to break his heart, but what Lizzy feared  would happen was that if she wasn't cautious, she'd be the one leaving  there with a broken heart.

By the time they pulled up in front of Daniel's house, not only was  Lizzy exhausted by the adrenaline that had finally dissipated from her  since the attack, but she was also tired of overthinking everything.

She got out of her car at the same time Daniel got out of his truck. He  walked with her to the trunk of her car, where she'd stashed three  hastily packed suitcases.

She grabbed the smaller pink toiletry bag while he lifted up the two  larger suitcases. They didn't speak as they left her car and walked to  his front porch.

He set the suitcases down, unlocked his door and then ushered her  inside. She wasn't sure what she'd expected of Daniel's living room, but  the homey atmosphere created by overstuffed furniture and dark wood end  tables atop a huge braided rug that complemented the gleaming hardwood  floors wasn't it.

There was a bookcase against one wall holding a variety of books about  ranching and several small bronze sculptures of cowboys. The couch was  situated in front of a beautiful stone fireplace, and it was easy to  imagine stealing some of the throw pillows from the sofa to lie on the  floor in front of a roaring fire. A flat-screen television hung above  the fireplace mantel, and Lizzy knew that Daniel probably spent most of  his spare time sprawled on the sofa watching TV.

What surprised her more than anything was the absence of photos. She'd  expected to walk into a shrine of sorts to Janice, but there was nary a  photo of the woman in the room.

"Daniel, this is lovely," she said as she set down her cosmetic suitcase.

He dropped the two suitcases he'd carried in to the floor. "Come on, I'll show you the kitchen."

She followed him in and nearly caught her breath at the size of the  room. It was built to be a family kitchen, a place to gather to eat and  do homework and connect with each other.                       
       
           



       

It was painted a cheerful yellow, with yellow-and-white gingham curtains  hanging over the windows that allowed the sun to play on a small  breakfast nook.

"Cook much in here?" she asked, noticing that both the stovetop and oven had the cleanliness of little use.

He pointed to the microwave and the toaster next to it. "If it can't be  toasted, zapped or grilled, then it's not being eaten in this house."

"This is a kitchen meant to be used for family gatherings and big  meals," Lizzy said. She turned to look at Daniel, unsurprised to find  his eyes dark and enigmatic.

"I'll take you upstairs and we'll get you settled for the night," he said, an obvious dismissal of her observation.

As they walked back through the living room, she grabbed her small  suitcase and he once again lifted the two larger ones. He led her up a  flight of stairs to the second floor. "Two guest rooms on the right, one  on the left along with the bathroom," he said when they reached the  landing. "The master suite is at the end of the hall."

He showed her each of the three guest bedrooms, and she took the one on  the left next to the hall bathroom. All of them were lovely rooms, but  this one made her feel instantly at home with its petal-pink spread and  gauzy white curtains at the windows. The furniture was blond, fashioned  years ago with the stability of solid craftsmanship.

"This will be fine," she said as she set down the cosmetic bag. He dropped the suitcases just inside the bedroom door.

"You'll find fresh towels and anything else you might need in the linen closet in the bathroom."

She nodded. It was close to midnight and she was sure he was eager to  get to bed. A wealth of gratitude swelled up inside her. This man owed  her nothing. She was nothing more than a piece of flotsam drifting  through his life, and yet he'd stepped up for her, a virtual stranger,  who was in need.

She took a step closer to where he stood in the threshold. "Daniel, I  can't thank you enough for letting me stay here temporarily."  Unconsciously, a hand rose to her neck as she remembered those  horrifying moments of not being able to breathe.

His eyes darkened and he took a step toward her. "When I think of  somebody hurting you, it makes me sick to my stomach." He balled his  hands into fists at his sides. "Honestly, it makes me angry as hell."

Lizzy moved even closer to him and smiled up at him. "I don't believe in anger."

He frowned. "What do you mean, you don't believe in anger?"

She shrugged. "It's just been my experience that anger is an emotion  that masks the real emotion beneath it. A wife says she's angry with her  husband, but the truth of the matter is she's feeling either frustrated  or betrayed. A mother is angry with a child, but it's usually  disappointment she's really feeling. Life would be much easier if anger  was taken out of the mix altogether and people could be in touch with  their true emotions."

He frowned, as if trying to take in what she was saying. "The workings  of your mind absolutely fascinate me," he finally said. "So, what is it  that I'm feeling right now if not anger?"

She stepped forward again, moving close enough to him that she could  feel his body heat radiating outward. "You're afraid for me, and maybe  part of what you feel is puzzlement about who would try to hurt me or  warn me to get out of town."

"It's a nice theory, Lizzy, but I've got to be honest with you. When I  think of somebody wrapping their arm around your neck and squeezing the  air out of you, when I allow myself to feel what you must have felt at  that moment, I'm just plain pissed."