like kiss her, for God’s sakes. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a woman who held children’s tea parties for a living. One night in her bed and she’d be picking out china. His history made family out of the question. So even if he wanted nothing more than to slip beneath that cotton T-shirt , his mind needed to focus on the long haul.
Rising stiffly , he turned to the kitchen, letting his booted feet take him back through the doorway and across the dimly lit room. He gathered the tea towel hanging from a drawer pull near the sink and opened the freezer in search of ice. The swelling was uncomfortable more than anything, but the ice would help keep it under control. As his gaze swept over the freezer’s interior, he spotted an ice pack resting on one of the shelves in the door. So much easier. Armed with what he needed, he made his way over to the back door and checked both the lock and the deadbolt.
Mystery D ude would be stupid to attempt to break into Tori’s place after realizing there was a man here, but you never could tell about these good ole boys. Some of them didn’t have the brains God gave a pig. He added to the security with a chair wedged under the knob, then glanced out the glass pane. The curtain of snow seemed just as heavy, so he could only make out about half the backyard, though what he could see remained em pty. Hopefully ole Bobby Joe had for gone another attack by finding a place to spend the night and ward off frostbite. But Damon wasn’t holding his breath.
He made his way back through to the living room, finding Tori resting on the couch in the same position he’d left her. Firelight flickered, casting both shadows and highlights over her light blond e hair. He knelt beside her, the sight of her delicate body awakening a primitive urge to protect. His righ t hand tightened around the icy- hard pack. He’d protected other men in his unit because that had been his job; civilians had fallen unde r a similar order. As a natural-born Texan, his gentle manly urges were well deve loped enough that he would have extended the same courtesy to any woman or child he’d encountered on the street. After all, that’s what men were on the earth to do.
But this burn in the center of his chest, the pressure in his core to stand between this woman and harm was something he was unable to actually feel anymore . Growing up as he ha d, being swept aside while his mother took beating after beating, having her belittle his con cerns, had thwarted his naturally protective instincts until he’d been left with only the shadow of them. Yet this tiny woman, with a single look, had awakened w hat he’d always assumed was lacking in him.
He’d been wrong. She w asn’t simply a genteel, proper s outhern woman. She was a dangerous flame set to light his match.
Draping the towel over her thigh, he eased the ice pack into place over it and the added protection of her T-shirt . Her sharp intake of breath shot through the stillness, making him wonder what sounds she would make under other, more pleasurable circumstances. A quick shake of his head allowed him to focus on more neutral territory, like g etting as far away as he could.
With a sure stride he crossed to the fireplace and stirred the embers inside with the poker, making sure the burn was even and the new logs had caught. The slight whisper of sound a s she shifted lent an intimate quality to the silence between them.
The husky strain in her voice wasn’t much better when she spoke. “What do you think he wants?”
“You haven’t heard from him in how long?”
“Not since right after he went to prison.”
Though he shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t get involved, he heard himself speaking anyway. “Did he threaten you in any way? Letters? Messages sent through family or friends?”
“He didn’t need to,” she said, then paused a moment while she cleared her throat. Sure enough, he glanced over his shoulder to find her tucking her