Chapter Four
Hannah opened her eyes, hanging on to that perfect moment between sleep and reality where everything was entirely fine, where no worry or anxiousness intruded, where she could simply be.
But then she blinked, reality came crashing down, and she was fully awake. Immediately, the feeling of dread, of fear, had her tummy tied in knots.
A loud noise made her sit upright. That was what had woken her. Someone was hammering against her front door. She grabbed her gown and glanced at her watch. It was nearly eleven o’clock. Normally, she wouldn’t still be in bed, but she’d only fallen asleep in the early morning hours.
She really hoped it wasn’t the police. They’d phoned yesterday, asking her if she wanted to file a complaint; apparently the story of Sophie’s near-accident had hit the news. She told them she’d see them sometime today, hoping to delay having to talk about the incident again.
Fortunately, she only had an appointment after lunch with a photographer who did a cover shoot with her last week. She wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to meet again, but her agent asked nicely, and she wanted to keep the client happy.
The hammering continued. Irritated, she walked toward the front door.
The block of apartments she lived in had security downstairs, so whoever was knocking had to be someone she’d cleared with them.
It could also be someone from her agency.
Why the idiot didn’t stop hammering, though, she couldn’t imagine.
She didn’t even look through the peephole, just flung the door open, ready to give whoever was standing there hell. Her words disappeared, as did all the oxygen around her.
Standing on her doorstep, unshaven, drop-dead gorgeous, his eyes red-rimmed, was Darryn Cavallo.
Before she could get anything out, his strong arms folded around her, and he kicked the door shut behind him. He was trembling as he pulled her close to his body.
She tried to push him away even though her body ached for his heat. She was so cold. But this was Darryn Cavallo, the guy who’d broken her heart and stomped all over it.
He ignored her movements, though, gathered her closer, and pressed his face into her neck. “We heard what happened yesterday. Heard the woman had a similar build to you, realized it could have been you. I need to hold you for a few moments…please?”
His unique scent of sandalwood and spices surrounded her, and she nodded.
Her arms found their way around him, and for a long moment they stood like that.
She sighed and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She didn’t know why he was there, what he wanted, but she felt safe. For the first time in a long time.
“I need a shower, and then we have to talk,” he said gruffly and dropped his arms.
Immediately, she shivered. She was so cold again.
“Hannah,” Darryn said and tried to pull her into his arms again.
But she stepped away and crossed her arms. “There are two spare bedrooms on your left, each with a bathroom. Choose either one. I…” She looked down at herself, realizing for the first time that she was still in her pajamas.
“I…” she tried again and looked up into his face. A big mistake. “I also have to shower and get dressed,” she whispered.
His eyes darkened as they swept over her and the tiny muscle in his cheek jumped.
His eyes were black when they reached hers again. “Then you better do it quickly before I forget about the rest of the world and undress you all the way.”
His huskily whispered words inflamed her already heightened senses and she turned around and fled to her room.
*
Darryn swore as he walked toward the spare bedroom.
Damn it to hell! He was like a bloody hormone-driven teenager around this woman.
He was here to try and figure out what was going on in her life, who wanted to hurt her, and the only thing he could think of when she opened the door, looking all rumpled and sexy, was getting her in a bed and out of the few scraps of clothing she was wearing as soon as possible.
He closed the door behind him while he was still cussing.
Sleep had been impossible last night. Normally, he didn’t have a problem and could sleep in any position in any place, but he was so worried and anxious about Hannah, he couldn’t close his eyes.
So now he couldn’t think straight, and being this close to Hannah wasn’t helping.
The security guard had already been outside her door when he arrived. The guy had insisted on seeing Darryn’s passport, and although he hated the time he wasted doing that, at least he knew the guard was doing his job.
He’d wait for Don and Caitlin to tell her about the security detail that would be following her every movement from now on. The Sutherland women were fiercely independent, and he could just imagine Hannah’s reaction.
He opened the brand-new suitcase he’d bought on the airport when he landed in Paris earlier and grabbed some of the clothes he’d picked up in a hurry.
Whatever else he might need, he’d get later in the day.
To reach Hannah as soon as possible had been his goal; he didn’t want to waste time going back to his house to pack clothes.
As he stepped into the bathroom, he heard it—the sound of another shower right on the other side of this damn wall! Swearing a blue streak, he opened the taps. Cold water cascaded over his overheated body and another string of curses followed. This bloody woman was going to be the death of him yet.
*
As she stepped out of her room, Darryn closed the door of the spare room behind him. He was scowling. When he saw her, the scowl deepened.
“Why are you glaring at me?” she asked and walked past him with her head held high. “Nobody asked you to come here; you can’t be irritated with me in my own home.”
The next minute he’d pinned her against the wall. Darryn leaned into her, close enough so that she could feel… Her eyes widened.
“Precisely.” He growled. “That’s what you do to me. You wet and naked on the other side of that damn wall? You should be glad scowling is all I’m doing,” he said, before he turned around and walked away toward the kitchen.
On unsteady legs, Hannah followed him. The man still managed to jumpstart all of her senses with merely a whisper.
As she walked into the kitchen, she could hear the kettle had been switched on and Darryn was opening and closing cupboard doors.
“Sit down, I’ll do it,” she said and moved around the kitchen counter. It was necessary for her to keep her hands busy, otherwise she might just do something ridiculous like throw her arms around Darryn.
“Don and Caitlin are on their way. Rather than wait for the company plane I took to return, they decided to fly commercial and will let me know when they’ll be arriving,” Darryn said behind her.
Hannah swallowed a few times, trying to get rid of the huge lump in her throat.
Caitlin had tried to talk to her on numerous occasions over the past two years, had asked what was wrong, but Hannah hadn’t wanted to bother her sisters with what she thought was something that would go away.
She probably should have spoken sooner, at least told her family what was going on.
“Hannah,” Darryn said behind her, but she couldn’t turn around, couldn’t speak.
The spoons in her hand dropped and, startled, she jumped away. Her nerves were shot. The next minute, two arms folded around her from behind and held her tightly.
“I…” she began, but her throat clogged up.
Cussing, Darryn turned her around and picked her up. With long strides, he walked to the couch and sat down, cradling her in his arms. And everything she had been bottling up over the past two years simply erupted. She fell against him with a sob and burst out crying.
Darryn tucked her head under his chin and began to stroke her hair with one hand while the other held her tightly against his body. The tears wouldn’t stop, and she gave up trying to hold herself together, pressing her face against Darryn’s broad chest, and cried.
*
Darryn hugged her slender body against his, vowing to find out who was causing Hannah so much pain, if it was the last thing he did. Her every sob echoed through his body, her every shudder broke his heart.
Eventually she sat upright and grabbed a tissue from the side table.
“I’m sorry, I don’t usually…” she began, but he put his fingers on her lips.
“Don’t apologize for crying, please. But tell me what the hell is going on. I refuse to believe that all these accidents are random, that it’s a coincidence you are always around when someone gets hurt. Please talk to me.”
Hannah jumped up and started pacing.
“You won’t believe me. I don’t want to believe me. It’s one of those things you read about in a book or see in a movie—it doesn’t happen to you.”
“Try me,” he said and willed himself not to get up and pull her into his arms again. She looked so lost, so…so…frightened.
She paused for a few seconds and looked at him before she resumed her pacing. She glanced at her watch and stopped quickly.
“I…have an appointment. I have to go,” she said.
“What appointment?” he asked.
She lifted her chin. “Not that it’s any of your business…”
The next minute, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Not my business?” he snarled. “When I can’t stop thinking about you, stop worrying about you? Stop wanting you?”
Before she could utter a word, he crushed her against him and caught her lips with his. She tried to pull away, but he wasn’t letting her go yet.
She gasped for air; he heightened the kiss and plunged his tongue deep while teasing and tormenting hers.
Gasping, she pushed him away, shaking her head.
“We can’t do this. You make me…I…”
Frustrated, he hauled her closer. It had been supposed to be a quick kiss, meant to punish her. But the minute he tasted her, he lost whatever control he had over his feelings.
She was all sexy angles and smooth skin, all woman and heat, and he was slowly losing his mind. With a gasp, he lifted his head and cupped her face with unsteady hands.
“You will be the death of me yet.” He growled, brushing back her hair. He had to clear his throat, speaking was difficult. “Now that we’ve established you are, in fact, my business,” he said while taking her long hair into his fist, “tell me about this appointment.”
*
Hannah swallowed and, crossing her arms, moved away. He dropped his hands.
“I…it’s a…” She took a deep breath, tried to focus on her words.
Kissing Darryn Cavallo wasn’t something she should be doing, let alone be enjoying!
“I did a shoot for a magazine cover last week. The photographer wants to see me again.”
He cocked his head and frowned. “Does that happen often?”
Chewing her lip, she slowly shook her head. “No, not really. But I’ve never worked with this guy before and maybe that’s what he normally does. I don’t know. I show up where I’m told to be.”
He nodded, his mind working overtime.
Something didn’t sound right, but the last thing he wanted to do was to upset Hannah further. Her phone rang, and she walked away while answering it.
He moved closer to the window that looked out over Paris. The city of love. Inside him, something shifted.
A little to his right was the Eiffel Tower and, far below, groups of tourists flocked in that direction. It was the beginning of spring, still cold outside, but the promise of warmer weather was in the air.
He stood staring through the window. Behind him, Hannah was talking softly. He was listening to her voice, not to what she was saying.
And then, whatever had shifted inside him seconds ago settled comfortably, and he knew. This was where he wanted to be. Close to her. Always. He loved her. He’d lost his heart to her on a sunny beach on Mahé two years ago, and that had never changed and it never would.
He turned around and looked at her. Really looked at her. He grinned. He loved watching her. Even when he’d been wracked with jealousy, when he’d been angry with her, his eyes would search a room full of people—for her. Even when he knew she wasn’t there, he’d look for her.
She combed her fingers through her long blonde tresses and he struggled to get oxygen into his lungs. Her unique scent of roses with a hint of citrus wafted his way and he stopped worrying about breathing—he didn’t need anything else, he could merely inhale her.
She was gorgeous; he’d always known that. Two years ago, he’d learned everything about her body in three days, but he’d walked away before he could get to know her mind, her heart, her soul.
And now that he knew how easily she loved, how deeply she cared, he realized Caitlin had been right—he should have acknowledged all of this two years ago.
Of course, he’d known what kind of person she was after spending time with her, but the intense feelings he’d experienced had been so powerful, so overwhelming, he’d opted to grab onto the first excuse to walk away and not deal with his emotions.
Stephen White had provided that excuse. But if the man had been lying—which at this point, Darryn had to admit, seemed be the case—the question was why? And damn it to hell, how had he known about the tattoo?
She ended her call and stood quietly, looking lost and vulnerable.
With two strides, he had her in his arms. “It’s high bloody time for you to tell me exactly what the hell is going on.”
She nodded, and a sob escaped against his neck at the same time someone knocked on her front door.
“Hannah, it’s Caitlin!”
Hannah lifted her head with a wobbly smile, wiped her eyes, and ran toward the front door. She flung it open, and her sister caught her in a hug.