Sea Haven 01 - Water Bound

To escape the knowledge of him naked in her bed, she’d fled her own house in desperation.
    She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. What the hell had she been thinking, bringing him into her house? No one went into her house, it just wasn’t done. Well, Blythe did, to get her coffee, but they always— always —drank it out on the porch. She never took chances. Not with the women who had believed in her, who offered her a family—who loved her in spite of all her failings.
    She bit at her thumbnail. Where were they? Why weren’t they home?
    Blythe had to come home and save her from her own stupidity. She needed him out of her house now. The pacing lasted hours. Eventually she realized she had to go check on him. There was nothing else for it. If she was lucky, he’d be dead already and then she wouldn’t have to figure out how to get him out. Maybe she’d just dump him back in the sea.
    Feeling a little elated over the thought, she squared her shoulders, took a long look around and steeled herself to go back inside. The moment she entered the house, she felt his presence. He seemed to fill up every room.
    The house smelled of Lexi’s oil, the faint scent of almond and lemon. Rikki rubbed the bridge of her nose, and after a moment of indecision discarded her sunglasses. The house was dark and he was probably asleep. She knew she wore the glasses as much for armor as she did to keep others from being uncomfortable with her direct stare. The way he looked into her eyes . . .
    She huffed out her breath and moved as silently as possible to the doorway of her bedroom. He took up the entire bed. His breathing was even, but somehow, she knew he was instantly aware of her presence. Like a predator. The uneasiness building inside of her flared into a massive ball of churning bile. She was going to have to keep him. Here. In her home. That was the consequence for her stupidity.
    She didn’t dare turn him over to one of her sisters—not even to Blythe.
    He was too dangerous. She pressed her fingertips to her temples. What was wrong with her? She really didn’t have survival instincts the way other people did. Although her “sisters” teased her that she was paranoid, she acted without thinking things through. This man could never go to Blythe’s house with his weapons and his reflexes. Rikki was responsible for him, not the others. She had to protect the others.
    “Fear has a scent to it.”
    63

    Her heart jumped. “If you think I’m afraid of you, you’re mistaken,”
    she answered. “I don’t have people in my home, and I thought I could ask one of the others to deal with you but I realized I can’t do that to them.”
    “So you’re stuck with me.”
    “Something like that.” She knew she sounded moody and less than gracious, but he’d disrupted her entire world. Her home was her sanctuary and he’d invaded it.
    “When you say you don’t have people in your home, you mean that literally, don’t you?”
    “Yes.” Now she sounded sullen. “I don’t even like talking to people.”
    He might as well know she wasn’t going to be any kind of soothing nurse for him.
    “How are you at finding some kind of aspirin?”
    She shrugged and went through the bedroom to her master bath. All medicines were kept in her personal bathroom. She had a guest bathroom, always kept meticulously clean, but no one had ever used it. Still, she wouldn’t keep her personal medicines in the guest bathroom. She found the bottle and shook out two pills. She never drank water in the bathroom either, so she had to go into her kitchen to get the water. She passed him without saying a word, or giving him any explanation of what or why she was doing anything. His opinion of her didn’t matter. She had her ways of doing things and they suited her just fine.
    As always when she turned on the tap, the water pouring out appeared to be a silvery stream of shimmering beauty. She could see perfection in each individual crystal drop. She couldn’t resist touching, allowing the water to cascade over her hands, her skin, and to meld with her in that comforting way, like living gloves. She turned her hands palm up and allowed the water to hit the exact center of her left palm, where the faint, disturbing marks had faded, yet sensation seemed to remain, as if she’d been branded in some way beneath her skin.
    The water was not only soothing on her palm, but sensual, flowing over her skin like silk. She felt a stirring