And, seconds later, frowned with confusion.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to keep the ire from her tone.
“You keep asking me that,” Ben replied, his mouth lifting in that cocky ass grin that shouldn’t make her nipples harden but did so anyway.
She sighed once more, weary from last night, this morning, tonight… “Because you keep showing up where you don’t belong.”
“I keep showing up where I’m needed.”
The laugh that escaped her sounded more like a nervous chuckle, one that sent slithers of pain to her temple. “I do notneedyou, Ben Donovan. For some reason you have this demented belief that you are God’s gift to this world. You’ve always had it. Some thought you would outgrow it, I knew you never would. Your kind never does. You’re no longer a part of this case, and yet you show up in my courtroom. Some insanevandals attack my house and you show up. Now, I’m trying to go to bed, to get myself together for work tomorrow and you show up again. Why? Just tell me why?”
Ben
He’d stood perfectly still the entire time she talked. Hands pushed into the front pockets of his pants eyes fixed on her.
Everything about her was gorgeous, but there was more. So much more beyond her physical attributes. In the eyes that had always intoxicated him, Ben saw fatigue and a little fear. It was with that in mind that he took a chance and stepped into the doorway, into her personal space. This could’ve gone horribly wrong if she’d taken this move as aggressive or offensive and struck him for the effort. But instead, and because he hoped she knew he’d never harm or disrespect her, she tilted her head back slightly to keep eye contact with him.
“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he told her honestly.
Victoria was smart, graduated fourth in their class in law school smart, and she was tenacious and decisive. She had integrity oozing from her pores and unhappiness creeping up her neck to settle—as he presumed from the twitching of her eye—in her temples creating one hell of a tension headache.
“What you’ve done has plagued me for years, Victoria. I have absolutely no explanation for why I can’t stay away from you or what you’re doing with your life. None at all. But here’s what I can tell you, I really like looking at you. And last night when I looked at you lying on that gurney, blood freckling your face, I wanted to kill someone. That makes me believe that my fixation with you has taken a really big step, one I can no longer ignore.”
She shook her head. “I know you realize how stalkerish and unstable that sounds.”
It was Ben’s turn to laugh and since she had yet to tell him to get out of her house, he closed her front door and secured the locks. “I’ve been called a lot of things before, an unstable stalker isn’t one of them, but I can see how you’d come to that conclusion.”
“I meant what I said,” she told him, “I don’t need you here.”
“Humor me then. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
Folding her arms over her chest she looked at him with impatience. “I’m fine.”
He wouldn’t argue that, she looked good as hell, even after all she’d been through. But he was certain that wasn’t what she meant. “You’re tired,” he said.
She nodded. “Yes, I am. That’s why I was about to go to bed.”
“Have you had dinner?” he asked, hating the faint trace of desperation in his tone. He wasn’t ready to leave her. Wasn’t ready to be away from her again. Was that selfish? Hell, fuckin’ yeah, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
“I tried but I wasn’t really hungry,” she said without thinking then snapped her lips shut. He almost smiled, but that would have certainly irritated her more.
“You should eat. Taking pain medication on an empty stomach isn’t a good idea.”
“I haven’t taken any pain medication and don’t plan to.”
“Then how do you expect the headache to go away?”
Ben had already walked through her living room and was moving through the dining room when she caught up with him. Both spaces were decorated in warm blues, browns and beiges, giving him a deeper glimpse into the woman who’d intrigued him for so long. For all that she was a spitfire in the courtroom and frosty to him on a regular basis, here she aimed for peace.
“I didn’t tell you I had a headache and where are you going? This is my house, Ben. You don’t rule here.”
“No, I don’t,” he told her. “And believe me the last thing I would do is try to rule over you. I’m just trying to help so it would be nice if you decided to relax and let me do that.”
“People allow help when they need it and…”
“I know, you don’t need me,” he finished. “Again, I’ll ask that you just humor me. Maybe I’m the one who can’t sleep until I know for sure you’re okay. So, if I can feed you, medicate you and tuck you safely into bed, maybe I’ll feel better and I can go home and get some rest.”
She tapped her foot on the floor, in her fluffy white slippers. He noticed, not for the first time, that she wore a purple nightshirt that skimmed her knees and nothing else. When she’d first answered the door, he’d taken in her full attire—namely, the amount of buttery-smooth skin that was left on display from the short nightshirt. He’d told himself, once again, to stay focused. Now, his body was threatening to overrule his brain as desire pumped through his veins.
