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bunk in his room,” Jane said with a smile.
    His mom was pleased he’d brought a friend to visit, but Jane was as old-fashioned as June Cleaver. No sleepovers with girls, even if her sons were well into their thirties.
    Reilly shrugged at his mom, letting her know the arrangement was fine even if the image of Carey stretched out in his bed beside him brought fresh waves of heat washing over him. A ridiculous thought. He and Carey weren’t a couple; he was handling this situation with complete professionalism, and going to bed with her was out of the question. Harris’s room was close enough that he could keep an eye on her and be at her side in seconds if anything happened.
    “Get yourselves settled. Dinner is in a few hours.” Jane walked from the room, leaving the door to the bedroom ajar.
    “I guess your mom was surprised to see me,” Carey said.
    Dang, she was pretty. Those brilliant blue eyes could speak right to a man’s soul. Why couldn’t she have been utterly unappealing? “I don’t bring women around often.”
    “You could have explained why I’m here.”
    Reilly rolled his shoulders. “I will. Soon. Right now I need a nap.” Alone. To get his thoughts together and focus on the case.
    Worry filled her eyes. “When’s the last time you had some sleep?”
    He glanced at his watch. “Too long ago. I didn’t want to waste time napping when we needed to get out of the city.”
    Carey looked at the floor and the impulse to draw her into his arms rocked him. Lack of sleep was making his thoughts hazy, centering around the idea of her spooned against him, his arms around her. Warmth. Comfort. Happiness.
    Simple things he missed having with a woman. Taking naps together on cool sheets on lazy afternoons. Gentle wake-up kisses in the morning. Sleeping in late and having breakfast at noon. Things he hadn’t shared with a woman in years. Hadn’t missed in years.
    Years? Had it really been that long since he’d been in a relationship? He’d had casual flings, quick rolls in the sack to sate his physical urges. He’d had sex with zero emotional connection, but hadn’t shared anything real with a woman in too long.
    Yeah, he definitely needed sleep. He was getting overemotional and weepy, thinking about chick stuff. Next thing he knew, he’d be buffing his nails and blow-drying his hair.
    “Would it be okay if I took a shower?” Carey asked. “I’ve got two days of grime on me.”
    “Do you need help?” he asked, remembering the injuries on her head and arm. Seeing her alarmed expression, he hurriedly added, “With your bandages. My mom could give you a hand.” Though his body responded to the image of her naked, and his hands running soap over her, he quashed it. Wasn’t going to happen. What she needed now was some sense of safety and the freedom to relax. He didn’t want her to feel afraid at the Truman Ranch. He didn’t know how, but he was going to take care of her and give her back her life.
    Carey shook her head. “No, I can manage. I’m fine.”
    There was that word again. Fine. Was she really fine? Or was she hungry? In pain? “I’ll get you a towel. Do you need anything else?”
    He knew she’d decline and she did. “No, but thank you for bringing me here. I don’t know where else I could have gone.”
    He reached out and cupped her cheek, the lightest of touches, careful to be exceedingly gentle. She inhaled sharply and stiffened, but after a few moments, she relaxed. He’d intended the gesture to set her at ease, to assure her she could trust him. It had the unintended effect of sending desire blazing through him. Every time they touched, the sultry hum of anticipation buzzed in his ears. Telling himself nothing could happen, not now, not ever, didn’t silence it.
    “I’ll protect you, Carey. You don’t have to be scared.”
    Their gazes connected in a hot, devouring stare. Her eyes never leaving his, she turned her head and kissed the inside of his wrist.
    His body