Her Forgotten Betrayal(15)

The little hussy.

Shaw tried to remember a single time since her return to High Lake when the aloof creature had showed her half as much unsolicited affection. Irritation sifted through her.

“Who are you?” she asked the man for the umpteenth time. “Why are you doing this?”

He was fingering the bullet hole, as if he could tell something about it by touch alone. He took his time looking away, reaching down to scratch under Esme’s chin, and only then confronted Shaw.

“Doing what?” he asked.

It was a fair question, even though he’d never gotten around to answering any of hers. What exactly was she accusing him of? Trying to shoot her, then forcing her to discover evidence of his crime?

“Being so smug and pleased with yourself that you make me want to smack you?” she groused. “Charming my fickle cat into liking you, when I want to throw you both out on your tails?”

He smiled at her scowl, then chuckled. He stepped toward her. His grin fizzled when she edged closer to the same door she’d run through earlier. She snatched up her Siamese and cuddled Esme close. The charm on the cat’s collar jingled, drawing his attention. He reached up to finger the gold trinket, his jaw hardening. His friendly expression cooled to a guarded mask. The transformation left her desperate to hear him laugh again.

“You never were the nervous type, Shaw.” His arm dropped to his side. “I figured playing it loose and easy might help you settle down a bit. Evidently nothing’s going to do that until I leave you be.”

He brushed by her, heading toward the outer door.

“Don’t go!” she said to his back, the surprising words flying from her mouth.

He stopped and turned around, and she was suddenly able to take her next breath. Was she so desperate not to be alone for one more second of crazy, that she’d latch onto a complete stranger to distract herself?

No. She could trust this man.

The certainty of it drew her a step closer to him. She stopped an arm’s length away and set Esme down, painfully aware as she did of her disheveled appearance…and of how carefully he’d gone out of his way to act as if he hadn’t noticed. He’d simply talked her into calmly facing her fears instead of running again.

She offered her hand to shake. “Can we start over? I’m Shaw Cassidy. You say we knew each other as children?”

His dubious expression said he didn’t trust her sudden shift in mood. “You don’t remember me? Not at all?”

“No.” But if she could remember the feel of someone, the comfort of a voice and a touch, if she could dream her idea of a perfect protector into life, this guy would definitely fit the bill.

“Okay.” He took her hand, the controlled strength of his grip making her shiver. “My name’s Cole Marinos. We grew up together. We haven’t seen each other since… Not for years.”

She grappled to remember the name. His face. Anything about him or their past together. All she came up with was the same hazy sense of familiarity that had led her to ask him to stay.

“I can assure you,” he said, “I’m not a threat to your safety. I’m taking a few weeks of vacation from work, and my family’s cabin is on your property. It was deeded to my dad’s estate when yours died. I didn’t realize there was anyone living up here again. Your scream woke me up, and I wanted to make sure everything was all right. I’m usually the kind to keep to myself. I certainly wouldn’t be chasing you around your grandmother’s house at night, shooting up the place.”

If he were any other man, his slight southern drawl might have softened him. This man—Cole—gave off too formidable a vibe for that. But there was honor there, too, rolling off him in waves. And there was a past between them…one that felt as familiar as he did. Even if she couldn’t remember it, she could feel the connection through his touch and his words and the assurance that made her feel she was safe with him.

An image of flames seared her mind, of her surrounded by them, screaming…

She yanked her hand away.

“You can trust me, Shaw.” His eyes flicked to the neat little hole the bullet had made in the wall. “Let me make some coffee while you tell me what’s going on. It’s not like either one of us is going to sleep again anytime soon.”

My God. How ungrateful could she be? This guy was accepting her irrational fears at face value and offering to help sort things out. And she hadn’t even thanked him.

“I’m sorry.” She gulped at the detestable tears that refused to recede. “I’m so sorry to be disturbing your vacation like this. It’s just…” Where did she begin? She had no idea how much of her situation was safe to tell him. But he was right. There was no way she was getting back to sleep. And being alone with her thoughts until dawn was an unbearable proposition. “You’re being very understanding, staying as long as you have. Thank you.”