Closing her eyes, she reached for the thick vibrator stashed in her nightstand. Not as satisfying as the strength of a man between her legs, but adequate for getting the job done. As she pulled the drawer open, the alarm clock shrilled and she abandoned the idea of a quick morning orgasm. Bright light hit her eyes as she rolled to her side and like that, the message on her door snapped to the front of her mind.
Abruptly cold, she rose and hurried into the bathroom, where she cranked up the hot water, washing away a small spider that had crept into the tub during the night. Once she completed a spot check for any other errant creepies, she raced through a shower, foregoing usual rituals because she didn't want to leave herself naked, wet and blind long enough for anybody to sneak up on her. The paranoia she'd almost suppressed in the uneventful weeks since the break-in had ratcheted to outright fear last night while the police questioned her about possible suspects. Just like the night at the store, she'd had nothing to offer. No names except Paul, whose alibi, according to the police, was iron-clad. Fear stalked her into her sunny kitchen and kept her company while she started a pot of coffee. Fear stuck around until Jude texted notice of his arrival, and a new piece of the night came back to her. Dropping her phone on the counter, she covered her face and sucked in a deep breath.
"You. Idiot," she muttered into her hands.
The doorbell rang. Face hot, she composed herself to the best of her ability and went to let him in.
She opened the door to a dark glower. Taken aback, she retreated a step. "Uh, good morning?"
"Is this from last night?" He indicated the message.
"Yeah. He used oil-based paint. I tried Windex. No luck."
Jude closed the door. Arms crossed, feet planted wide, he studied the words so long, her mind wandered to the bulge of his biceps and the ridges of muscle outlined by his cotton shirt. Lord, she had to stop noticing him.
"If you have a screen, I'll put it in. Not as energy efficient, but at least you won't have to look at it when you get home tonight." He flicked a spider from the doorframe and stepped inside, crowding her in the tiny foyer.
The spicy scent of his aftershave wrapped around her. Stop noticing him? How? She cleared her throat. "Coffee?"
"Let me take a look around first. I want to walk around to the back and if you have time, I'd like to get an idea of your living habits. What rooms you occupy at what times of day, what rooms you don't use often." All business, he produced a small notepad and a pen.
Smothering a strange sense of disappointment that he'd barely looked at her-irrational, because she'd asked him to come by for business-Lily led him on a cursory tour. The three-bedroom townhouse didn't have much square footage for them to cover. Jude made notes while she talked.
At the threshold of her bedroom, he stopped. Lily turned to find him looking at her rumpled bed. Maybe she made a sound. He raised his eyes and met hers. Something electric sizzled between them, struck like lightning low in her stomach. So he wasn't immune, not any more than she. An overwhelming desire to strip naked and spread him out on her sun-warmed sheets struck her. She wanted to slide down onto his cock and watch his golden eyes, dark now with awareness, roll back in his head.
Instead of taking her in his arms, he reached into his pocket. "I need to give you something."
The words rumbled, low and rough down her spine. The timbre of his voice didn't come anywhere close to professional. He produced a small, square envelope from his shirt pocket and she knew.
Her breathing stuttered to a stop. Lily stared at the logo stamped on the piece of paper. All the blood drained from her face, leaving her cold to the bone.
How? How could she have screwed up this badly? She'd taken so many precautions, had gone to such lengths precisely so she wouldn't surrender to her desire for him.
"I have to open the shop," she said woodenly. "You should lock the doors before you go. Don't worry about the coffee pot. It's on a timer."
Desperate to get away, she tried to dodge around him but he caught her upper arms and drew her up short. "Lily-"
"I have to go," she repeated, unwilling to stand still long enough to figure out how she felt about this. About submitting to him, having close-enough-to-sex with him. Finding comfort and security in his presence. She felt stupid for getting to this point, yes, but now that she was here …
"I can't talk to you right now," she whispered.
"Damn it-" He cut himself off. With a frustrated growl, he crumpled the envelope and shoved it down the front of her corset. His fingertips lingered across the tops of her breasts. Despite everything, her nipples swelled behind the stiff stays, stabbed uncomfortably into the brocade.