N. Walters - By the Book

Gripping the pen tight in her fingers, she jotted down a note and showed Patrick.

“You smelled him?”

She nodded. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the smell. Fear and cologne.

That’s what the smell was. She wrote that down and showed the sheriff.

“Definitely a man?”

Amanda nodded. No doubt in her mind. Something else popped into her head and she wrote it down, underlining it.

Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “He was wearing a mask?”

Again, she nodded. All this bobbing of her head wasn’t helping her headache. “I felt it when I tried to hit him. I heard his voice too.” She spoke before she thought. The pain was still there, but at least this time she hadn’t started coughing.

“He spoke to you?” Jonah stood beside her, strong and solid. She wanted to lean on him, rest against him for a moment. Instead, she straightened her spine. He was just passing through her life. The only person she could depend on was herself.

She nodded and tried to recall exactly what her attacker had said. Clutching the pen tight, she scribbled on the pad. When she was done, she turned it so both men could read it.

Where is it? Where’s the book?

“That’s what he said?” Amanda shivered and nodded as Patrick repeated the words.

Reality came crashing back down on top of her. Books. Her books. “Books,” she whispered, too anxious to bother with writing. Grabbing Jonah’s hand, she squeezed tight.

Patrick shook his head. “Whoever hurt you dumped a few of your boxes onto the floor.”

Amanda moaned. Her books were her life, her livelihood.

“When you’re feeling up to it, you’ll have to inventory everything and see if anything is missing.” Patrick shook his head. “You need to remember to start locking all your doors at night, especially the back one. It’s not visible from the road so it’s a more likely target for a thief. This is a small town, but we still have our share of crime.”

Amanda shook her head. She’d locked her door. Hadn’t she? Closing her eyes, she thought and thought. She’d taken her coffee out onto the back patio yesterday afternoon.

Had she locked the door behind her? She was positive she had, but maybe she hadn’t.

Obviously, she hadn’t or the attacker wouldn’t have been able to just walk in. The lock was old and a bit tricky. It must not have latched tight. Something else for her to-do list, but this item went straight to the top.

Jonah’s hand tightened around hers as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“It’s not your fault. This guy obviously wanted something specific and a lock wouldn’t have stopped him. You have some really valuable books, don’t you?”

Amanda nodded, not even wanting to contemplate the damage that might have been done to some of them. Yes, she had insurance, but that would never replace a book that had been destroyed.

Patrick reached out and took the pen and notebook from her. “That’s it for tonight.

I’ll be in touch tomorrow. My men should be finished processing the crime scene by the time you get home. In the meantime, I’ll leave a deputy in a car in front of your house.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Patrick glanced over at Jonah. “You taking her home?”

“Yes.” There was no room for doubt in Jonah’s reply.

Amanda wanted to protest that she could get herself home just fine, but she didn’t.

Truthfully, she could use some help right now. She felt battered and bruised and more frightened than she’d care to admit. She had no idea who would do this or what they wanted.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need anything just call.” Patrick nodded at her and then left the room. She and Jonah were alone.

“Come on, sugar.”

She started to slide off the bed, but he stopped her, scooping her into his arms, blanket and all.

“Walk,” she protested, even as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“You don’t have any pants on and no one else needs to get an eyeful of your long, sexy legs, but me.”

He thinks my legs are sexy. Amanda couldn’t help but smile in spite of the situation.

No man had ever given her such a lovely compliment before.

“Besides,” he continued. “You’re only wearing socks on your feet.”

Jonah pushed his way through the swinging door and stopped long enough to handle the necessary paperwork and for Doctor Ames to hand her a prescription. He carried her through the parking lot to his truck. The drive home was done in silence.

As promised, a lone police car sat out in front of her home. The deputy got out when Jonah pulled into her driveway. “The front door is unlocked, but the rest of the house is secured. We finished with the crime scene a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks.” Jonah came around the truck and lifted her out. He took her up the walkway and into the house, stopping only long enough to secure the front door.

Her arms tightened around him as they passed the spot where her attacker had assaulted her. “Don’t think about it. Not tonight.” He started up the stairs, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. He wasn’t even breathing hard and she wasn’t exactly skinny.

The man was all muscle.

The bedside light was still on in her room and he carried her straight to the bed. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

She nodded and he released her legs slowly, holding her steady until she had her balance.

“Do you need help?”

She snorted. As if she’d let him help her with that. Ignoring him, she padded to the bathroom. First thing she did was look in the mirror. Dark, mottled bruises circled her neck. Amanda shivered and turned away. It would be even worse in the morning, but as the doctor said, it would eventually heal.

That was all that mattered. That and trying to figure out who would do something like this to her. Was it a stranger? A thief who knew she had rare books? Or was it someone she knew? A past customer who’d followed her to Jamesville?

Finishing in the bathroom, she headed back to her room. Jonah was sitting on the side of the bed waiting patiently for her. He’d taken off his boots and socks and laid them neatly beside her dresser. His leather jacket was hooked over the closet doorknob and his shirt was folded and laid on top of a box. His belt, wallet, cell phone and keys sat beside his shirt. His gun looked out of place resting next to her lamp on the bedside table. Jonah wore only his jeans.

He stood as she made her way to the bed. His jeans rode low on his hips, emphasizing his lean waist and wide chest. The muscles in his arms flexed and rippled as he held up the covers and motioned her into bed. A light dusting of dark chest hair covered his upper torso before arrowing down the center of his belly and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. He looked as sexy as any pin-up model.

“Get in,” he urged.

She wasn’t at all sure about this. She knew he’d told the sheriff he’d stay with her, but she hadn’t realized that he’d meant it literally.

“We’re just going to sleep.” The corner of his mouth tilted upward. “As sexy as you are, I’m just plain worn out after all the excitement tonight.”

Amanda ducked her head, feeling foolish now. Of course, all they were going to do was sleep. She was too battered and bruised to do anything else. And Jonah had to be exhausted. He’d been out at her house at the crack of dawn this morning and he’d spent half the night at the hospital with her.

She hurried past him and climbed into bed. At the last second, she remembered to remove her glasses and place them on the bedside table. Jonah tugged the covers over her and then lay down on top of them. His actions surprised her. “Cold?” she protested, flipping the top comforter over onto him.

Jonah’s smile deepened. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve slept in much worse conditions than this.”

Was that supposed to make her feel better? She frowned, but he put his fingers over her lips before she could speak.

“Rest your voice. You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk then.” He turned off the light and she knew he was done talking for tonight.

She nodded, knowing he was right. Snuggling down, she turned onto her side and sighed. Jonah curled in behind her so that her head was tucked beneath his chin and her bottom was cuddled against his groin. She could feel his arousal through the covers and their clothing.

His arm wrapped around her, his hand resting between her breasts. She felt completely surrounded and protected. She was suddenly struck by what Jonah had done for her. He’d saved her life and was still watching over her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She felt his lips graze the top of her head. “You’re welcome. Now sleep.”

Amanda’s last thought was that there was no way she would sleep after the trauma of this evening.

Jonah held Amanda until he was certain she was asleep. Her deep, even breathing soothed the anger churning inside him. Someone had almost killed her tonight. That was unacceptable.

It didn’t matter that he’d only met her yesterday. Nor did it matter that he wasn’t the kind of man to settle down in a relationship. All he knew for sure was that Amanda was important to him.

When her phone had gone dead while they’d been talking, he’d almost lost it. The sharp talons of fear had gripped him—icy-cold knives tearing at his belly. He’d driven like a madman to get to her, afraid that he’d be too late.

Slipping his arm free, he slid out of bed. Amanda gave a soft snort and moan before settling back to sleep with a sigh. He waited, watching her until he was certain she wasn’t going to wake up. Padding silently across the room, he paused long enough to grab his phone before stepping out into the hallway. Using the light from the keypad, he dialed a number from memory.

“What?” the voice on the other end growled.

Jonah grinned. His buddy was a man of few words. “I’ve got a situation.”

“What do you need?” There was no hesitation, no questions, just an offer of help.

“How soon can you get to Jamesville, Maine?”

“I’ll be there by tomorrow evening.”

The line went dead and Jonah closed his phone. Tucking it into his pocket, he returned to bed, easing Amanda back into his arms.

Feeling warm and cozy, Amanda didn’t want to get up just yet. Her bed was particularly comfortable this morning. She snuggled down beneath the blankets and froze when a heavy male arm snaked out and pulled her toward a very large male body.

Jonah.

Memories of the night before came flooding back—the phone sex, the intruder, the desperate fight for her life and Jonah. It always came back to Jonah. He’d saved her life by frightening off her attacker. He’d been with her at the hospital. He’d brought her home and held her throughout the night.

Amanda rolled over onto her side. She blinked to bring him into focus and began to study his features. His straight black hair was brushed away, giving her a good view of his wide forehead and stubborn jaw. His nose was prominent, but it suited him. He looked rugged and tough, even in sleep.

As she thought that, his eyes popped open and she was caught in their green gaze.

Her eyes were green too, but hers were a dark, mossy green. Jonah’s eyes were lighter, like gemstones, sharp and intense.

“Morning.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss on her forehead. His voice was as scratchy as the stubble on his jaw.

She swallowed. It didn’t hurt quite as bad as it had last night, so she decided to give talking a try. “Morning.” She sounded like a wounded frog, but it was better than nothing.

“How are you feeling?”

It was quite intimate to lie beside a man and talk in the early morning. Both of them not quite awake yet, sleep still weighing heavy. Amanda rested her hand on his chest and felt the steady thump of his heart against her palm. Her fingers curled slightly, tangling in his crisp, dark chest hair.

“Amanda?”

His eyebrows furrowed and she could see the concern in his eyes. What had he asked her? Oh yes, how was she? She took stock of her body and swallowed again. “Good. I feel pretty good.” She gave a slight cough. Her throat felt dry.

“Try not to talk too much.” He picked up a lock of her hair that was resting on her shoulder and let it slip through his fingers. “You have great hair. I love the deep cinnamon color mixed with the red and the way it curls.” He held it up, looking at it in the morning light that streamed through the window.