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his, separated her fingers, twined them with his and heldthem still. Hers were small and icy-cold beneath his as his fingers closedaround hers.

"Do you...do you think it washim?"

He bent his head. "Hell, Idon't know. It isn't usually the way he works. Your friend Krista...that's theway he works. He meets women in bars, smooth talks them, buys them drinks,leaves with them...and kills them."

His harsh words made her flinch.

"You're in shock," he toldher. "Your hands are freezing, your teeth keep chattering, your pupils aredilated. I don't know how you're holding it together." He took her handsin his and stood up, pulling her with him. "Let's get you to bed."

Even in her state of near collapse,a flare of heat sparked inside her at his words. She still felt that sexualpull, the heat between them.

"Sleep," he said,apparently reading her mind. "You need sleep."

"I can't sleep," sheprotested as he started leading her to the stairs.

"I assume your bedroom is uphere?" he asked, ignoring her.

She nodded.

"Have you got any drugs?Sleeping pills?"

"No! Of course not."

"It's not that bad." Hepulled her up the staircase. "After someone's been through what you have,a doctor will often prescribe a mild sedative for sleep. You need tosleep."

Yeah, that might have been a goodidea, in hindsight, she thought. The lack of sleep for the last few weeks wasprobably making her irrational, more emotional and sensitive than she needed tobe. She followed along behind him, content to let him take charge, too tiredand weak to fight it.

"How about booze?" heasked, walking into her bedroom.

She saw him looking around, takingit in. She bit her lip as she noticed the clothes strewn over the chair in thecorner, the shoes kicked off and laying on the carpet, the pile of books on thefloor beside the bed. She wished she were a neater person.

"I know you weren't drinking atthe bar...does that mean you don't drink at all? Or do you have a bottle ofwine or whiskey or something here somewhere?"

"Um..." Her mind was a bitfoggy. "I have tequila." She frowned. The last time she'd dranktequila was when this whole mess had started. If she and Krista hadn't arguedthat night...

"I'll get you some. Where isit?"

"No. I don't want tequila.There's a bottle of wine in the fridge."

"Okay. You get into bed. I'llbe back in a minute."

She went into the bathroom, gazedlongingly at her big Jacuzzi tub. Probably not a good idea with Trey here, butafter he left, she'd have a long, hot soak. That would relax her.

She peeled off the denim jacket shewore, then the long silk and lace camisole under it. She washed her facemindlessly, scrubbing away the mascara smeared under her eyes, making her noseeven pinker. Then she wriggled out of her snug jeans and walked back into herbedroom in her bra and panties, just as Trey entered with a glass of wine.

His eyes moved over her, then wentdark and hot. Her mouth went dry. Her nipples tingled. Jeez. How couldshe be having an attack of lust at a time like this, after what had justhappened to her?

"Get into bed," he orderedroughly. He followed her, arranged pillows behind her so she was propped up,then handed her the glass of wine. He sat down at the end of her bed, far, faraway from her. "Drink that," he said. "Then try to get somesleep."

"Yes, sir," she snipped.Then she softened. "Um...thank you Trey. I didn't say it earlier, butthank you for coming along when you did and rescuing me. I'm really, reallygrateful." God, what would have happened if he hadn't come? He'd probablysaved her life. Her chest constricted painfully.

He nodded shortly.

"Are you going to San Franciscotomorrow?"

He frowned. "Hell, no."

"Why not?"

He passed a hand over his face. Hisdark shadow of a beard was prominent, this late in the day...or rather, thisearly in the morning. It was after two o'clock. He, too, looked weary."I'm going to talk to the cops tomorrow," he said. "I don't knowif they've made the connection between your breakin and the attack tonight andthe fact that Sheldon Barnes knows you."

His words reminded her of what deepshit she was in, and she gulped the wine.

"They need to know he may havechanged his appearance," he told her. "And that he may be still herein the LA area."

She nodded. Then she carefully setthe wine glass down on her bedside table. "I'll see you out," shesaid quietly. "So I can lock up behind you. And I'll need to disarm thealarm so you can get out."

He just looked at her. "I'm notgoing anywhere. I'll sleep on your couch. I'm not leaving you here alone."

"That's why I got thealarm," she protested. "You don't have to stay."

"I'm staying."

They stared at each other for a longmoment.

"Fine," she huffed out,flopping back on the pillows. "But you'll have to sleep on the couch. Myspare bedroom is an office."

"I can sleep on the couch. Justtell me where I can find a pillow and a blanket."

She started to get out of bed, buthe pushed her back down without much apparent effort on his part. "I'llfind it," he said mildly. "Just tell me where."

"But--"

"You are one stubborn,independent woman," he marveled. "Is it that you don't like metelling you what to do? Or are you just ornery?"

She glared at him. "Both,"she snapped.

He grinned. She couldn't help butsmile back and suddenly she was reliving how exciting and fun flirting with himhad been. Awareness that they were alone in her bedroom and she was dressedonly in her skimpy underwear hit her low in the belly.

Warmth slid over her, starting inher cheeks, down over her throat and chest, and she slowly pulled the duvet upunder her chin, pressing back into the pillow.

"Don't worry, Marli." Hetouched her cheek, then stroked a strand of hair back off her face. "Youknow I'd love nothing more than to get in that bed

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