Moments later, they lay pressed together, limp with the impact of their releases. Reality slipped into place, hitting Lindsey with a rush of emotion. The magnitude of what they had shared was so powerful, it was hard to digest.

Never, ever, had she felt so totally possessed and pleased by a man. The burn of tears in the back of her eyes took her off guard. A wave of panic took hold. Was she falling in love? She didn’t want to be in love. That meant giving up too much. She’d worked hard to find herself. She didn’t want to get lost again.

Turning her face to the side, she tried to hide her tears. Mark kissed her temple and rolled to her side, giving her an opportunity to escape his scrutiny. She sat up, feeling a second rush of emotions, taking a deep breath, willing the tears to go away. But a flood was coming, and she couldn’t stop it.

There was no way to hide her sobs from Mark.

Mark’s arms closed around her from behind. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asked in a tender voice full of concern that only made her cry harder.

Wiping at her face, she tried to gain control. “No, nothing like that. I’m sorry. I swear I’m not like this.”

Mark stroked her hair. “I know, and that’s what’s got me the most worried.”

“I’m,” she sniffed, “fine.”

Mark tugged her into his lap and then moved to rest his back against the headboard. Lindsey gave into the need for more tears and buried her face in his neck and let them roll. So potent was her release, it was as if years of tears had somehow been released. All she could do was cling to Mark, and let them flow.

And he was wonderful, whispering comforting words, and rocking her.

Long minutes later, she accepted a tissue from Mark, feeling calmer, but her eyes hurt and she was exhausted.

“Do you want to talk?” Mark asked, his hand running down the back of her hair.

“I guess a lot things hit me at once,” she explained. “It’s been a pretty emotional month.”

Mark knew there was more to it and he needed to understand. “What was it about our making love that made it all cave in?”

Lindsey ran her hand through his hair. “You scare the hell out of me.”

He knew that, but he didn’t see any reason to say so. Instead, he wanted to understand her feelings fully. “Why?”

“Well,” she said in a shaky voice, “I think I’m beginning to get used to having you around.”

Mark studied her. “And that’s bad because . . . ?”

“Because every time I have ever gotten involved with a man, I’ve felt like the relationship took over my identity. I can’t do that again.” She shook her head and shut her eyes. “I can’t.”

He brushed his lips across hers. “I’m crazy about you. I like your independence, and even how hard-headed you are.” He smiled. “I don’t want you to change. I just want to enjoy who you really are.”

She blinked. “You make it seem so simple.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think it’s simple at all. The truth is—I’m scared too.” She looked at him with surprise. “I wasn’t looking for this anymore than you.”

Lindsey seemed to digest his words with acceptance. “Thanks, Mark.”

His eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“For understanding. For not pushing me.” She blew out a breath. “For being you.”

Mark pulled her close, his chin resting on her head. “Don’t thank me,” he told her. “Just don’t stop being you.” He kissed her head. “All I want is a chance to see where we are going.” He pulled back, and looked at her. “Is that fair?”

She smiled. “I’d like that too.”

Mark laid down, pulling her into his arms, hoping this was one of many nights he fell asleep holding her.

* * * * *

It was dark, and she was alone. Fear laced her thoughts, made her hands sweat, and her body shake. The shadows danced menacingly around the room, a flash by the window—a shadow that moved. Oh my God . . . a man. It was the outline of a man, and she shoved aside her blankets, frantically kicking them away with her feet as she reached for her gun. But she couldn’t find it.

Where was her gun? She grabbed her purse, feeling frantic, dumping the contents on the bed, searching.

Then suddenly, Mark was there, climbing through the window, going after the shadow of a man. Lindsey panicked and dug harder for her gun, reaching in drawers, under pillows. Giving up, she flung her purse to the ground and ran towards the window, not bothering with a robe. She had to get to Mark.

The window was open and she crawled through, desperation taking hold as she screamed Mark’s name. But he was nowhere in sight. She moved to the fire escape, taking each step with urgency until she jumped into the alley. Still she couldn’t see him. She started running as fast as she could, needing to catch up to him. Her breathing was harsh, labored, and tears were streaming down her face. Where was he? Where was Mark?

* * * * *

“Lindsey.” She heard her name but she didn’t see anyone. “Lindsey, baby, wake up.” Her eyes fluttered. “Lindsey, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

She jerked straight up into a sitting position, her skin damp, and she was wheezing, needing air. Her eyes went to his face. “Mark?”

She felt his arms wrap around her. “Yeah, I’m right here, baby.”

Reality started to return with the sound of his voice. She turned and touched his face, his chest, and his shoulders, needing to know he was here. He was real. A deep sigh of relief escaped her lips. “Oh, God. You’re here. You’re okay.”

Mark grabbed one of her hands and pressed his lips against her palm. “I’m right here. Everything is fine now.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Lay down with me,” he urged gently. Slowly he lowered them both against the sheets. Sinking into his hold, she allowed the safety of his arms to soothe her mind, slowly feeling her breathing return back to normal. After a few minutes, she leaned up and kissed his cheek, so very thankful he was okay, so very appreciative for his comfort.

She wasn’t alone.

“Want to talk about it?” Mark asked, his hand smoothing her hair.

Lindsey rested her head on his shoulder. This time the nightmare had been more vivid, more frightening. And yes, she did want to talk, to tell Mark about it. “I keep having this same nightmare, over and over.”

“You were screaming my name. Why?” he asked, his hand now drawing circles on her arm.

She strained, trying to force her mind to recreate her nightmare. Mark had been there, in the middle of the dread, but not a part of the darkness. “There’s always a stranger trying to get to me, and then you’re there, and I am trying to get to you.”

Mark felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Was this some sort of premonition? They hadn’t known each other long. “When did they start?”

Lindsey’s thoughts raced. “I’m not sure. I think before I met you. But then, how can that be? You’re in them.”

“Maybe you had them before and now that I’m around, I became a part of them.” It seemed logical enough.

She sighed. “Maybe.”

“Rest, baby,” he said kissing her head. “It’s the middle of the night.”

She snuggled closer to him, one of her legs entwining with his. Damn, she felt good in his arms. Within a few minutes, she drifted off to sleep. He lay there, holding her, his mind on everything from the nightmare to the murders. Lindsey made him feel protective from the first moment he met her. With each passing moment, the feeling grew more intense. Her nightmare felt like some kind of premonition. The very thought had him silently cursing himself. Hell, now he was sounding like Lindsey, with all of her instinct and gut-reaction crap. Besides, her nightmares were probably a product of her struggles with the past. Lindsey had torn herself up over Hudson for years.

He stared down at her, nestled by his side . . . so perfect, so needing someone to take care of her. She didn’t think so, but he did. Everyone needed someone, and she was no different. No matter how much she tried to convince herself and the world differently.