Vicki slowed as her house came into view. Until now, she had always loved the fact that her house was the last on the block and that the woods started where the street ended.
Now, she felt suddenly vulnerable and alone.
As she had the night before, she opted to park in front of the house instead of in the garage. Shutting off the ignition, she wished she had remembered to leave the porch light on.
Grabbing her handbag, she got out of the car and ran up the stairs to the front door. Her hand was shaking so badly, she couldn't get the key in the lock.
"Here," said a deep, familiar voice, "let me."
"Antonio." She wondered if he heard the relief in her voice.
Taking the key from her hand, he unlocked the door, then handed it to her.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside. When she turned to thank him, she saw that he was still outside. "Well, don't just stand there, come on in."
He followed her into the house, his presence putting all her fears to flight.
"What has you so upset this evening?" he asked, though he knew very well why she was upset.
Vicki dropped her handbag on the sofa and ran a hand through her hair. "I… It's probably nothing, but… " She sank down in the chair across from the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. "I went out to the Blue Horse with Bobbie Sue. It's a dive a few miles from town. There was a man there… He, I don't know, he just seemed spooky somehow, and he asked about my hair."
"Go on."
She looked at him, her brow furrowed. "He asked me if it was natural. There was something about the way he said it." She shivered. "I guess I let my imagination get the best of me. Anyway, I made Bobbie Sue drive me back to my car. And even though I didn't see anyone following me home… " Her frown deepened. "I was sure there was someone behind me." The way she had been sure the other night, only to find that it had been Antonio following her. "Maybe he was using some other means of transportation, too," she murmured, remembering what he had said the other night.
"Do not assume that I am like him," Battista said.
"Were you following me?" she asked, hoping he would say yes.
He nodded.
"Who was that man?" she asked. "Who are you? What are you doing in Pear Blossom Creek?"
"He is a murderer," Battista replied calmly. "A man without conscience or rectitude."
"That doesn't tell me who you are."
"Perhaps I shall tell you one day."
"Why not now?"
"You would not believe me."
"Why are you here?" She frowned. "Did you come here to find him?"
"No. The fact that we are both here is mere coincidence."
"So, what is it you do for a living?"
He shrugged. "I have no employment at the moment."
"Really?" She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you live around here?"
He resisted the urge to say he did not live at all. "No."
"Well, since you don't work, you can't be on vacation, so what brings you here?"
His gaze moved over her, lingering on her lips. "Fate, perhaps?"
Warmth spread through her, pooling deep within her being. "You're not married or anything, are you?"
"No, my sweet one. I would not be here with you if I were."
She nodded, then covered a yawn with her hand. "Sorry."
He glanced toward the window. "It grows late. I should let you get your rest."
She nodded, but he saw the fear in her eyes, fear of spending the night alone.
"I can stay, if you wish."
"Would you?"
He nodded. "I will keep watch outside."
"No! I mean, shouldn't you stay in here? I mean, wouldn't you rather stay in here? You'll be more comfortable."
"As you wish."
"I'll get you a blanket," she said. "And a pillow, and you can bed down on the sofa. Or you can watch TV for a while if you're not tired… " She closed her mouth. She was babbling, but she couldn't help it. His offer to spend the night had seemed like a godsend at first. But now, she wasn't so sure. Earlier, she had convinced herself she felt safe with him. Now that he was here, she was suddenly nervous at the thought of being alone with him, of having him spend the night in her house. After all, what did she really know about him?
He was watching her, his expression impassive, yet she had the uncanny feeling that he knew exactly what she was thinking.
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "Have you changed your mind?"
Had she? Did she want to be alone tonight? "No, no." She smiled. "I'll just be a minute."
She hurried out of the room and down the hall to the linen closet. There, she paused, one hand over her pounding heart. Please, Lord, let me be doing the right thing.
She pulled a sheet and a blanket out of the closet, along with an extra pillow and a clean pillowcase. Then, taking a deep, calming breath, she returned to the living room.
He was standing where she had left him.
Discomfited by the silence, she switched on the TV. The familiar voices of the cast of Friends filled the silence as she set about making up the couch and fluffing the pillow, all too aware of Antonio's nearness. She knew he was watching her every move. His gaze was almost tangible, like invisible fingers stroking her back, caressing her nape.
"There." She turned to face him. "I hope you'll be comfortable."
"Do not worry about me," he said.
She wondered if anyone had ever worried about him. He was tall and broad-shouldered.
Strength and confidence fairly oozed from every pore. She had no doubt that he could look out for himself, and yet, far below the surface, she sensed a vulnerability. Or maybe she was just imagining it because it made him seem more human… She frowned, wondering where that thought had come from. Perhaps she was more tired than she thought!
"Well." She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. "Goodnight."
"Buona notte."
Battista watched her leave the room, his gaze resting on the sweet sway of her hips, and then he shook his head. He was not here to admire her beauty or to seduce her. He was here to protect her, nothing more. But her image danced in his mind, the womanly scent of her hair and skin lingered in his nostrils.
To distract himself, he switched off the television, then strolled through the house, noting that she was a tidy housekeeper and that she favored the color mauve and had a fondness for candles and clocks. The living room was rectangular. Aside from the TV