The Bachelor Project

“Would you like me to show you what made so much racket?” he asked gently.

“They’re still here?” She peered into the darkness as if she could see around the house. Her hands now clutched the thin peach-colored robe as desperately as they’d gripped the door frame.

“No, although they might be up that tree over there—” he pointed “—watching us talk about them. There’s a stack of trash they found mighty interesting. They were probably checking out the moving boxes to see if you’d left anything for them to eat.” He smiled, but she didn’t seem the least bit at ease with his good-ol’-boy routine. He decided another tactic was in order.

“You mentioned several possible intruders. Have you had any problems? This house was vacant for over a month.”

She focused on him immediately, her eyes even wider, her shoulders rigid. She took a deep breath. “No, not really. I was just letting my imagination run wild. There’s absolutely no reason anyone would know I’m here.”

He frowned. “No family?”

“Of course, I have family,” she said cautiously. “Just not here. And I haven’t told them where I’m staying…yet.” She shrugged dismissively, then tried a weak, unconvincing smile. “No big mystery.”

He hadn’t lost his instincts for investigation when he’d moved from Dallas to a quiet, small town. Miss Robin Cummings was running away from something—or someone. He’d bet his badge she wasn’t about to let her family know where she was until she was good and ready.

“Are you in some kind of trouble, Miss Cummings?” he asked calmly, stepping closer. He needed to understand her fear. As an officer of the law, he told himself. Not as a man reacting to a woman who brought out every protective tendency he possessed.

“What do you mean? Why are you asking me that?”

“Because that’s my job.”

“I’m not in any trouble,” she claimed, then paused. Her expression revealed what might be regret. “Unless you count an angry ex-fiancé and two parents who spent a fortune on a wedding that almost went off without a hitch.”

Dammit, he did not need this complication in his life. Especially this particular problem. How was he, of all people, supposed to be rational, objective and sympathetic toward a woman who had left her angry, frustrated fiancé at the altar?

But then her lower lip started trembling, and she whispered, “It was going to be a very elegant wedding.” She started shaking.

With another muttered curse, Ethan ignored his own prejudice and years of training. He ignored the little voice in his head that told him this was a very stupid move, as he pulled her into his arms.

ROBIN WASN’T SURE how she ended up in the police chief’s arms. She didn’t know if comforting overly emotional women was standard police procedure. All she felt was the overwhelming relief of being wrapped snugly against a hard, male chest, with his strong hands soothing on her back, his heartbeat steady against her cheek.

She shouldn’t crave the feeling. She definitely shouldn’t get used to the comfort. And yet her arms clung to him, and her fingers pressed into the muscles of his back as she breathed in the scent of clean male and fresh starch. She sighed and closed her eyes, unable to resist the security this man—this stranger—represented.

There was nothing personal in his embrace…or in her reaction to him, she told herself as her tears and sniffles stopped. He was simply…tranquillity. Understanding. Acceptance in an unforgiving world. And he hadn’t asked her about the foolish remarks she’d made. Her relief over the reprieve of not having to explain why she’d called off her wedding would have been enough to send her into his strong arms.

She could have stayed there for an eternity. Perhaps she did. Time ceased to exist as his hand stroked her upper back. Gradually, her breathing returned to normal. But then she realized his heartbeat was no longer steady and slow. And his chest wasn’t the only hard, male part of him pressed tightly against her thin robe and skimpy cotton sleep shirt.

He must have felt the same awareness, because his hand stilled and he tensed. Robin pulled away at the same time as he cleared his throat and focused on the seemingly fascinating architectural details of the porch posts.

“I’m sorry for acting like such a…wuss,” she said softly.

His smile appeared a bit strained as he looked back at her. He was embarrassed, she realized. Of her actions or his body’s reaction?

“A wuss?” he asked. “You were afraid.”

“Of raccoons.”

His smile faded. “And you were upset.”

She hugged her arms. Sooner or later, she was going to have to explore her feelings about the marriage that didn’t go off without a hitch, but not now. Not yet. “Whatever. You showed me there’s nothing to be afraid of.” If she didn’t count her response to the handsome police chief.

“I didn’t say that. There’s plenty to be cautious of out here. A lot of animals can be dangerous if they’re hungry enough. But we hardly ever get a case of rabies.”

She rubbed her arms against a sudden chill at the thought of salivating, fanged beasts. “I’ve never lived in the country before.”

He glanced quickly at his watch, letting out a long sigh. His expression told her he was battling some inner struggle. He was probably weighing common courtesy against correct procedure, counting the moments until he could escape from the crazy city woman.

“Parker to Dispatch,” he said into the device pinned near his shoulder. His wide, strong shoulders. “Ten forty-two.”

The dispatcher replied, but Robin couldn’t hear what they said. She was just about to ask what the code meant when Chief Parker spoke.

“You’re cold,” he observed almost casually. “Would you like to go inside, Miss Cummings?”

“Well…”

“I’d be glad to give you a rundown on what you’re likely to see out here. Kind of a Country Primer,” he added with a reluctant smile that was way too sexy for a late-night official visit.

She hoped his observation about her being cold was based on her rubbing her arms and not the fact her thin robe was revealing more than she’d like him to see. The idea of his noticing her breasts caused a reaction that she hid by folding her arms across her chest. The friction was almost painful.

When she spoke, her voice sounded husky. Breathy. Sexy. Not at all like an interior decorator standing on a front porch in the middle of the night, wearing no makeup—and not much else, for that matter. “I don’t want to keep you from your other duties.”

“You’re not. I’m off duty now. And like I said, it’s usually real quiet around here. This is the most excitement—”

His sudden pause was followed by what Robin strongly suspected was a blush from the local law enforcement officer, although she couldn’t tell, since his back was to the porch light. The thought that she’d been the cause of so much “excitement” made her smile—to herself. No sense making him any more embarrassed than he already was.

On the other hand, she couldn’t let him go so quickly. Not when the air was practically sparking with something very foreign and enticing. Maybe she was just relieved that there hadn’t been a real threat to her security tonight. Maybe she wanted to focus on something besides her former fiancé and irate parents. Whatever the reason, she’d like the police chief’s company for a while longer.

“I’ll take you up on your offer. Why don’t I fix us some coffee?”

He seemed genuinely surprised by her response. “You don’t have to do that. You’ve had a scare.”

“Which I’m now over, thanks to you.” She reached for the storm door. “Please, come in for coffee and tell me all about these wild predators. I’d like to know how to tell a deranged killer from a hungry raccoon.”

He smiled in an endearing, aw-shucks-ma’am manner that made her want to hug him tightly and tell him he was way too good to be true. Way too good-looking, too.

“If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

“I’d appreciate the company. Something tells me I won’t be able to get to sleep anytime soon.”

Especially if I keep thinking about Police Chief Ethan Parker, Robin silently added as she walked barefoot down the hallway to the “mother-in-law’s room” she’d claimed as hers while staying at the Franklin house. Many of her clients in the suburbs had these bed and bath combinations separated from the other bedrooms. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

She needed something more substantial to wear. There was no way she’d be able to continue a conversation—even one based on the flora and fauna of the Texas Hill Country—in this robe. Not when the chief looked so darn good in his crisp uniform and sexy, reluctant smile.

Robin paused, her smile fading as she pulled a T-shirt on over a sports bra and donned a pair of running shorts. She hadn’t looked at the chief’s hands. She hadn’t noticed if he was wearing a wedding band. He might be married. There might be a Mrs. Parker waiting for her husband to come home.

He didn’t seem in any hurry to get home to the missus. When Robin strolled into the kitchen a few minutes later, he was making coffee as if he owned the place. The distinctive aroma filled the room as the sputtering, hissing water filtered through the grounds.

“Find everything you need?” she asked, making more noise than necessary as she removed two mugs from the cabinet. Favorite mugs she’d placed there just hours before, as she’d unpacked the necessities she’d brought with her from her Houston condo.