I could feel him.
Glancing to the side, I saw the man from yesterday. Even though I'd been watching for him all day, I suddenly forgot what he'd said his name was and I stared at him like a fool while I struggled to remember.
Killian. Yeah, that was it.
He was dressed much like the night before, despite the cooler temperature, only this time his shirt was black. As he stepped out from under the awning over the window and strolled over toward me, Wiggles, being the Very Good Dog he was, growled ferociously at him.
"There, there now," he told him. "Look what I brought for you, fella." Pulling something out of his pocket, he offered it to Wiggles.
I watched as my dog's little black nosed sniffed the treat the stranger had brought with suspicion, deciding if it was worth giving up his guard dog duties. Apparently, it was, for he took it gratefully from Killian's fingers, making me wait while he set it down on the sidewalk to savor it some more before he ate it.
"Sweet potatoes wrapped in dried chicken," Killian told me. "It was always a favorite of my own dogs."
So, I'd been wrong about the dog thing. "What are you doing here?" I asked him, even though I knew.
He looked around at the groups of people dancing around us, most in costume. "It's Halloween," he said. "I thought I'd come do a little shopping."
"You're too late. I just closed the store."
"Perhaps you'd let me walk you home, then," he told me. "It's a bit crazy in the Quarter tonight."
"And then what?"
"And then nothing," he said. "I just want to talk, Lizzy."
My heart slowed somewhat, but I didn't completely relax. After living in New York City for eleven years, I'd developed a pretty good instinct about people. And this man was not as innocent as he tried to appear. There was something about him, something that set off multiple alarms inside of me. Danger oozed from his pores, as sexy and delicious as the cologne he wore.
And yet there was something else about him...something that told me I could trust him completely. Or maybe I'd just read too many romance novels. "Thank you for the offer," I told him. "But I can get home on my own. Wiggles here knows the way."
"Is that his name, then?" he asked with a smile.
"Actually, it's Sir Wigglebutt. Wiggles for short."
Killian smiled. A real smile. "It's a perfect name for the old boy."
I barely heard what he'd said, transfixed as I was by the way his smile changed his appearance. Gone was the average looking thirty-ish or forty-ish-year-old man, and in its place was a guy that made my stomach flip and heat infuse my blood.
The dreams I'd had the night before came back to me in a rush.
Definitely too many romance novels.
His eyes travelled over my face, his smile fading away. "Let me walk you home, Lizzy. I promise I won't do you any harm."
I blinked a few times as I brushed my hair out of my eyes and pulled my old, wool coat tighter around me. It was more of a protective act then anything, as I wasn't cold at all, even though I didn't have a large cup of alcohol to keep me warm like the rest of the people around us. "But you're going to harass me until I agree to what you want," I muttered under my breath.
"I just might," he answered, one side of his mouth curving at my look of surprise.
"So, you're not going to do me any physical harm. But every other kind is up for grabs?"
He'd been watching Wiggles, but at that he looked up, his black eyes catching mine. "I don't plan to do you any harm at all." There was an intensity to his tone that was a little heavy for the conversation we were having. "But I do sincerely need your help," he told me. "If you'll just let me explain, maybe you'll change your mind."
I glanced around. Though we were a block from Bourbon Street, where most of the celebrating was taking place, the crowd was still pretty rowdy. I looked back over Killian. "I'll let you walk me part of the way," I told him.
"Fair enough," he said. "I truly appreciate your time."
I checked to make sure that Wiggles had finished his treat, and then we all started off in the direction of my apartment. I discovered I wasn't the only one who found my escort fascinating. He attracted plenty of attention, including uneasy looks from the men and hungry stares from the women. I didn't understand what was so threatening about him just walking down the street. And the slutty nurses and cops, among other, more imaginative costumes, just pissed me off for no reason I could put my finger on. "You've got about five minutes," I told him. "So you'd better make it quick."
"Five minutes is all that I need." He waited until we got past a group of kids who looked like they were barely old enough to go to college before he began his story. "I have a friend. A very special friend. And she's sick."
