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He could still see Caroline, so sweet and tempting, wearing nothing but a pair of lacy panties. If he closed his eyes, he could even feel her skin...taste her lips...smell the fragrance of coconut and honeysuckle. The room hadn’t changed at all in the past twelve years, and for just a moment, he thought he could smell the exotic-scented skin lotion that Caroline wore. With a stifled groan, he closed the door and went back downstairs.
It was almost ten o’clock, but Jason knew he’d never get to sleep. He rarely went to bed before 1:00 a.m., a habit that Caroline would no doubt say he’d gotten from her father. He pulled the folders out of the first box and sorted quickly through them until he found the case files he was looking for. He spent the next several hours poring through the documents, trying to decipher any clues that might hint at who had shot Judge Banks.
He was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t hear the soft pad of footsteps behind him until it was too late. He caught a faint whiff of coconut and whirled in his chair. Except for the small table lamp near his elbow, the house was steeped in darkness, but he could see Caroline clearly. She stood just outside the circle of lamplight, wearing a short white bathrobe that left her slender legs bare. Her blond hair fell loosely around her face and shoulders, and she hugged her arms around her middle.
“Caroline?” He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. “What is it?”
She stared him, her eyes haunted in her pale face. “I couldn’t sleep. I had a dream...”
Jason didn’t move toward her. He didn’t trust himself to touch her, not when she looked so vulnerable and everything in him wanted to haul her into his arms and assure her that he’d take care of her.
“Here,” he said, indicating the nearby sofa. “Come sit down. I’ll get you a drink.”
“Where are Deputy Black and Deputy Mitchell?” she asked, looking around the silent house.
“Deputy Mitchell has the night shift. He’ll keep watch in the patrol car tonight.” He gestured toward the end of the hallway, where her father’s bedroom and a second guest room were located. “Deputy Black is asleep in the guest room. He’ll relieve Mitchell at dawn. You’re safe, Caroline. Come sit down.”
Obediently, she sat down on the sofa and curled her legs beneath her. He’d closed the doors that led to the deck but had opened the nearest window so that he could enjoy the cool ocean breezes. Realizing she was shivering, he pulled a cotton throw from the opposite end of the sofa and draped it around her shoulders before walking over to the wet bar.
He poured them each a glass of bourbon. After handing one to Caroline, he sat down beside her, carefully putting some space between them. She turned toward him on the cushions, and the blanket slipped enough to one side so that he caught a glimpse of one slim thigh. He took a hefty swig of his drink.
Caroline cradled her own glass in her hands. “I had a dream about my father.” Her voice was low and troubled. “In the dream, I’m standing on the sidewalk when he opens the door. I can see that the person standing on the porch has a gun. I try to scream a warning, but nothing comes out.”
“Caroline—”
“So I run toward the house, but my feet are so heavy, as if they’re encased in concrete. All I can do is watch while he’s shot. And there’s so much blood...it spills down the steps in a gush, until it surrounds my feet.”
She sobbed and covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Jason took her glass and set it down on the coffee table with his own. She didn’t resist when he pulled her across the distance that separated them and enfolded her in his arms.
“Shh,” he murmured against her hair. “It was just a dream. Your father is alive, and we’ll find whoever did this to him.”
Her fingers clutched at his shirt, and she shuddered with recalled horror. “It seemed so real. And when I woke up, I felt so helpless. So alone.” She raised her face to look at him. “But then I remembered that you were here. And I knew everything would be okay.”
Her words caused something to shift in Jason’s chest, and he had to fight to keep his arms from tightening around her.
“Caroline—”
She swallowed, tears still shimmering in her eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been so miserable to you today. I just kept thinking about what you said last night, about hating me.”
“I never said I hated you,” he corrected her. “I said I would have grown to hate you if we had slept together back then. There’s a big difference.”
She nodded and fixed her gaze on the center of his chest. “You’re right. But I don’t think you would have actually hated me, just like you wouldn’t have left me.”
