“Ha-ha!” That wasn’t funny at all. He should know better than to joke about me being attacked. What kind of security expert is he, anyway?

I go up the stairs in a hurry, wondering if I remembered to make my bed or not. Believe it or not, the fear that my lackluster housekeeping will be discovered is overtaking my fear of being stalked by a murderer, especially after seeing how pristine Ozzie’s place was. Yes, I have problems, obviously. I’m going to blame it on Ozzie’s muscles. He’s wearing another one of those tight BSB Security shirts again. Don’t they make them in his size?

When I get to my room, I’m disappointed. Of course I didn’t make my bed. Now he knows that I’m messy, and I sleep on sheets covered in flowers. He probably hates that, being the black-satin type. For some reason, that bothers me. Then the realization hits me like a bus; I want him to like everything about me, even my sheets. I’m insane, or at the very least, sexually deprived enough to have become completely irrational.

He comes out of the bathroom that adjoins my bedroom and stops in the doorway. “You left some diamond earrings on the counter in here, and in my experience, even someone who’s not normally a thief, but who comes into a home with bad intentions, will pocket something like that. I think you’re okay.”

The breath I was holding comes flying out in a long, loud stream of air. “Oh, thank God.”

He frowns. “Are you seriously that worried?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

He shrugs. “No, but I live in a secured warehouse.” He looks around my bedroom. “You don’t have any security here, do you?”

I shake my head. My decision to save that money seems really stupid right now.

“I’ll send someone over.” He leaves my room without another word.

I rush out behind him, afraid to have him disappear so soon. “Someone? Who? Why?”

He’s practically running down the stairs. “Thibault. Maybe Toni. They’ll hook you up with some basics just to put your mind at ease.” He turns his gaze to the kitchen when he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “Sahara! Let’s go!”

Ozzie and I are both standing in the foyer. Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover the atmosphere. He saw my bedroom. He saw my sheets. He went into my bathroom, and for sure there was a box of tampons on the counter. He’s sending someone over to hook me up. He’s so hot it makes me ache in dark places. Ack!

The dog ambles out of the kitchen and through the living room, meeting her owner by the front door.

“Is there anything else you need?” Ozzie asks, and for the first time he’s looking me dead in the eye and waiting for my answer. Time stands still as I fall under the trance created by his bright green eyes. My blood starts to boil, but not with the angry kind of heat; it’s something else entirely.

Yeah, Ozzie, I think to myself, I need something. Something I haven’t had in a really long time. Sex, and lots of it.

Ozzie tilts his head. “You okay?”

I shake my head, trying to yank it out of the clouds. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Really.” I put my hand on his arm in an effort to calm myself and distract him from my crazy reaction to a simple question.

Oopsy. Mistake.

I can feel the warmth there and the muscles moving under his skin. I have to clear my throat so I can talk normally. It only works a little. “Thanks for everything, Ozzie. Really. You’re a prince among men.”

He doesn’t pull away from me. He should, but he doesn’t. The heat grows between us in the spot where our skin is touching.

“That’s what I do.”

I laugh and smile. “Rescue damsels in distress?”

“No, the right thing. I do the right thing, much as it might pain me to do it.”

Ouch. Talk about a cold shower. Wow, did I read that moment wrong or what?

My hand falls from his arm as I suffer the ache of embarrassment. “Sorry I was so much trouble.”

His expression goes confused for a second, and then he reaches out for my hand, taking it in his huge one. The warmth kicks in again, double time. He’s holding my hand! I’m sixteen again!

“No, no, I didn’t mean you’re a pain.” He shakes his head and jiggles my hand a little. “Dammit, I’m screwing this up.” He sighs heavily and starts again. “What I’m trying to say is that making sure you got home safe was the right thing to do. And even though I have about ten other things I should be doing right now, I’m happy to be here making sure your home is secure.”

I grin. It’s not a marriage proposal, but I don’t want one of those anyway. “Wow, Ozzie. That was almost sweet.”

He drops my hand and frowns. “Call me if you run into any trouble.” He turns around and opens the door without another word.

I panic, thinking this is the last time I’m ever going to see him. Quick, Brain! Think of something charming and witty and interesting to say!

“Was it the flowered sheets?”

I have no idea why those words just burst out of my mouth. Sleep deprivation. It’s a terrible thing. Terrible, terrible, awful.

He pauses on the front step and slowly turns his head. “Flowered sheets?”

“Is that why you’re running away? Because my flowered sheets are so awful?”

Yep! That’s me! I keep talking when I should shove a shoe down my throat. My face burns bright red as I realize there is no coming back from this one. It’s like I’ve never been around a man before. How long has it been since I’ve had sex, anyway?

“I actually liked the sheets.” He smiles awkwardly, as if he’s just as confused about that as I am. As if he didn’t just charm me from my toes to my nose by not mentioning how whack-a-doodle I am.

He walks down the steps and over the stepping-stones to the driveway, without another word. Sahara almost knocks me over when she bounds past me to catch up to him.

I watch him climb up into his truck and reverse out of my driveway after Sahara’s safely in the bed, and I wonder if I’m ever going to see him again, all the while definitely hoping that I will.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I’ve got popcorn on the stove when my doorbell rings. “It’s open!” I yell over the sound of the kernels bursting.

The door shuts and footsteps follow. Only when I notice that they’re heavy and coming fast do I realize that I probably shouldn’t leave my door unlocked and just tell people to walk in when there could be a murderer on the loose. I grab a knife out of the block on the counter and turn around to confront my visitor.

“Smells good in here.” When Thibault rounds the corner and takes my knife into consideration, he slows. “Whoa.” His hands come up in surrender. “I come in peace.”

My racing heart begins to calm in seconds. “Oh, hey. It’s you.” The knife goes down to waist level.

“Yeah, it’s me. Who were you expecting? Ozzie?” He chuckles at his own joke, but I can’t tell if he’s hinting that I like Ozzie and was hoping he’d come by or I want to stab him. I put the knife back where it belongs before responding.

“I didn’t know who to expect. Want some popcorn?”

“Definitely. After work, though. Work before pleasure.” He looks around the kitchen. “Mind if I take a look around?”

“No, feel free. I’m on my computer in the living room, working on some photographs. Just shout if you need me.” I’m not worried about being judged this time; I made sure to make my bed and clean up the bathroom counter after Ozzie left.

“I’m just going to count up all the points of entry and see what we’ll need to get them secured and hooked into the network.”

“Network?” I chew my lip, wondering how much this is going to cost me. I don’t have a lot of savings left. My latest dry spell has been pretty desert-like.