Chapter Four
M?RTEN ENTERED THE kitchen, still rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.
He hadn’t slept as well as he would’ve liked, his mind worrying over the details of the break-in at Summer’s apartment.
He hated to use the term gut instinct—he believed it was his police training and time spent on the job that gave him enough wisdom and knowledge to feel when things weren’t right—Jacob was the one who’d always followed his gut.
But something was telling him that things just didn’t add up with this case, and he wasn’t sure why. Yet.
It seemed he was the first one awake; there was no sign of Jacob and Nikki. It’d been a late night. They hadn’t gone to bed until after two a.m., and the couple deserved a lie-in on a Saturday morning.
He flicked the coffee machine on and got himself a mug down from the cupboard.
It wasn’t until he turned around that he noticed a note on the table, tucked underneath the sugar bowl.
It was short, but to the point. Summer had gone for a run and would be back in an hour or so.
A frisson of unease ran through him. How long ago had she written the note?
He stared out the window, hoping in vain to see her come jogging up the driveway, but it remained stubbornly empty.
Darn. He wished he’d heard her get up. She must’ve crept through the house like a dormouse.
He hadn’t even caught the sound of the front door giving its normal loud squeak as it clicked shut.
Summer was a grown woman, he reminded himself. Allowed to go on an early morning jog if that’s what she wanted. But he couldn’t budge the tight feeling in his chest, and knew he wouldn’t feel at ease until she returned.
Senior Constable Downey had been suspicious of the thief’s motives, and M?rten had agreed with him, which was why he hadn’t allowed Summer to stay alone in her apartment last night.
But surely she was safe now? Even if it had been a targeted attack, the burglar was long gone, and there was no way anyone could know she’d stayed in this house overnight, either.
Summer could carry on with her life unhampered.
But he continued to stare out the window, waiting and watching, while the coffee machine bubbled to itself.
He could call her; they’d exchanged phone numbers, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate that, so he waited.
Twenty minutes later, his coffee sitting cold and forgotten on the countertop beside him, he gusted out a low release of breath as Summer let herself in through the gate.
She was back. Unharmed and unaffected. She walked up the driveway, checking her watch as she came, taking long easy strides.
She hardly seemed to be breathing heavily at all, and M?rten wondered how far she’d run.
His gaze traveled up her body, from her sneaker’d feet to the crown of her head, verifying she was okay.
But his perusal turned to something else entirely when he noticed how well the brief pair of black running shorts and crop top showed off her lithe figure to perfection, and he became transfixed, unable to drag his gaze away.
She had an athletic body, thighs tight and toned, stomach flat and ridged with muscles.
As he continued to stare, he was hit with a sudden shot of lust so strong he had to grip the edge of the countertop to keep himself from swaying.
God, she looked fucking hot in her running gear, like she’d just stepped off the front cover of one of those sports magazines.
Long hair pulled in a high ponytail, which flicked jauntily over her shoulder, and golden-brown skin glowing with perspiration.
M?rten had observed how gorgeous she was last night; he was a red-blooded male, of course he’d been aware of her allure, even admitted there might’ve been a moment of heat between them.
Dressed in her jeans and leather jacket, she’d had a cool vibe that he’d found appealing.
But today, with all that flesh on display, he knew he found her much more than just appealing. She might even be his perfect woman.
He clutched the countertop harder, trying to banish this sudden, crazy attraction.
She was a woman who’d needed his help; needed his protection.
The last thing she wanted was for him to be ogling her as if he were an infatuated teenager with raging hormones he couldn’t control.
He was a cop, and she was a victim of crime, and he’d do well to remember it.
Actually, so would she. Summer should be reminded that she might not be out of the woods yet.
She should be more careful. More circumspect.
At least until they caught the thief. And that included not going out on her own early in the morning.
A simmering irritation burned low in his belly, possibly fueled by his ill-advised lust. But anger was an emotion he could do something with.
M?rten had the front door open and was standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed, waiting for her as she mounted the steps.
“Oh, good morning,” she called with a bright grin when she noticed him.
He didn't reply, merely frowned a little deeper.
“I always feel better after I’ve run off all my worries. Don’t you?”
“I don’t run,” he declared. Which wasn’t the whole truth.
He did sometimes go for a jog, but in Sweden, where winter snow covered the ground for over half the year, it was often hard, if not impossible, to achieve any useful exercise.
He’d much rather do his workouts in the gym and get his aerobic fitness from skiing and ice skating, which were common pastimes in his country.
“You should have told me you were going out,” he added, his voice coming out in a low growl that was terser than he intended.
“What? Why?” She looked genuinely confused. “I run every other morning. I need to stay fit for my triathlons. Did you want to come with me or something?” Confusion clouded her pretty eyes.
So she was a triathlete. Now, her athletic figure made more sense. As did the training bicycle on the stand in her apartment. Triathletes were among the fittest people on Earth. But he couldn’t let himself get sidetracked.
“No. Yes. No…I just wanted to know where you were. To make sure you were safe.” He knew he was sounding like an overprotective idiot, but now he’d started he was unable to stop.
“I think you need to take some care. At least until they catch the man who broke into your place. You shouldn’t go out alone. ”
He moved closer, closer than was necessary, glowering down at her. He needed her to know that he was telling the truth. The danger wasn’t over yet. He couldn’t explain why—not in any way that she’d understand—but she had to believe him.
He was so close he could see the individual beads of sweat glistening on her golden skin. For one traitorous second, he wanted to lower his head and lick that salty droplet right off her shoulder. Taste her. Touch her.
“Oh, really? Mr. Big-shot Swedish cop.” She rested her hands on her hips, her beautiful mouth twisting with contempt as she glared up at him.
“I came here with you last night because you gave me no other choice, and I needed somewhere to sleep. And I thank you for that. But that’s where it ends.
I don’t need your help anymore, and I don’t need you to become some sort of self-appointed protector.
I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, and I don’t need to be told what to do.
I control my own destiny, if you please. ”
Her gaze was bright with fury now. He returned her stare, not about to back down either, and their gazes caught and held.
Something hot and elemental flashed between them.
He saw the way her incredible eyes went even darker.
Darker with desire? He leaned in closer.
Oh yes, that was desire all right; she was definitely attracted to him.
He knew when a woman liked what she saw.
His gaze flicked to her lips, then returned to her eyes.
It shouldn’t have come as a shock that he wanted to lean in and kiss her, but the strength of the urge still disconcerted him.
It was all he could do to continue to stand his ground and not sweep her up in his arms, hold that lithe body hard up against his and capture her sweet mouth.
He’d been sexually attracted to more than a few women in his life, but this feeling was next level.
He was holding his position by the merest thread, using all of his steely self-will just to stay where he was.
Did she feel it too?
Summer broke their stare first, taking a step backward and dropping her gaze.
At the breaking of their contact, M?rten drew in a sharp breath and clenched his fists at his side.
He should be thankful she at least had the capacity to stop it before it went too far, because he seemed to have lost his mind momentarily. Whatever it was.
“Good morning,” a sleepy voice called from behind M?rten’s shoulder.
M?rten swiveled on his heel to see Jacob standing in the hallway, passing a hand through his short hair and yawning, watching them both on the front porch with interest. “Are you off for a run?” Jacob asked, catching sight of Summer’s running gear.
“I’ve just been for one,” Summer replied, barging past M?rten, careful not to catch his eye.
“Is it okay if I take a quick shower?” she asked Jacob, who nodded and told her where to find the towels in the linen cupboard.
Summer stalked down the long hallway toward the spare room, and M?rten closed the front door and followed Jacob into the kitchen.
Had he noticed how M?rten had been standing so close to Summer, enthralled by her? God, he hated how he’d let his dick take over. It was unprofessional and uncool, and he hoped Jacob hadn’t caught the vibe.