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Again, why do you care?
Hope wasn't sure if she wanted Miles to answer her question or not. Maybe he didn't care. Maybe the
kiss had been a mistake on his part. Maybe he felt sorry for her. Oh Lord, what if Miranda really had put him up
to asking her to dinner.
No one put me up to anything. Asking you out was my idea.
Hope didn't know if she could believe him or not. Like, how did he know what she was thinking? A bit
unnerving coming from a man she barely knew.
Trust me, Hope. I'd never hurt you. Miles dropped a light kiss on her open mouth. Now, let's get you
downstairs. Unless you'd rather I take you back to bed.
Her cheeks heated with fire. Bed and Miles
two words in the same sentence she shouldn't contemplate. They painted a seductive scene in her
mind. Her nipples tightened, and the spot between her legs ached despite her physical hurts. Miles pulled her
even closer. Hope bit back a gasp as his arousal caressed her center. She didn't need this. She wanted it but
not now. There were too many unanswered questions.
Miles? Hope?
Hope welcomed the interruption. She placed her palm against Miles chest and pressed. His arms
dropped away.
Miranda, Miles was just going to help me down the stairs.
Uh, okay, we're in the kitchen. Miranda's voice sounded doubtful. Who could blame her for thinking
something else? Hope dared a look at the man who held her.
The hunger blazing from his eyes made her legs feel like over-cooked spaghetti. I think we should go
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down now, don't you?
No. But I guess there's no help for it. If we don't make an entrance in just a few minutes, Zacke, and
probably Hawk, will both be in our faces.
Who's Hawk?
Miles lips pulled back in a smile, softening his features. He no longer looked like he wanted to jump her
bones.
A good friend, but he can be a bit overpowering when it comes to women.
Well, if you mean he's a flirt it won't be an issue. I don't exactly look my best.
To hell with everyone else they could wait. He wasn't moving an inch until he set Hope straight.
Damn it woman, why do you say things like that? You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
Then you must be blind. I know what my face looks like. I found the mirror Miranda hid in the bathroom.
Miles ached to touch the purple and black shadow beneath Hope's eye. He wanted to kiss the matching
bruise on her cheek. He restrained the anger her injuries invoked. His first glimpse of Hope on the stairs had
tormented him but her near fall had sent his heart into almost death throes. As he held her safely in his arms,
he only wanted to reassure himself she was all right. Not just in body but in spirit. Her verbal attack left him with
little doubt. His Hope would recover. Now, he needed to convince her he couldn't be run off by her snide
remarks. He knew it was her way of protecting herself.
Your bruises are proof of your courage. You fought back. But for me they signify more. You're alive and
the alternative is something I don't ever want to think about.
Before she could say anything else, Miles scooped her into his arms and descended the stairs. 54
Dunbar's Curse
He didn't give in to the groan trapped in his throat demanding release. He wasn't some pup who
couldn't contain his lust. He would die for this woman. And when she was completely well, he would show her
just what she meant to him, heart and soul.
****
I forbid it!
Excuse me, but you don't have that right.
Be reasonable, Hope. You're not well enough to move back to your house.
Miles could have yanked his bumbling tongue from his mouth. His command had done nothing but
incense Hope. Since they had joined the others in the kitchen, they'd all tried in vain to convince Hope she'd
be safer at Zacke's and Miranda's.
Your concern over my health is admirable, but you're only using that as an excuse. I told you, I didn't
know those men and it was a random act of violence. I just happened to be the victim.
Hope, there's been more than one attack. You aren't the first, and if we don't catch them, you may not
be the last.
Zacke's serious tone caused Hope to blink rapidly. Miles hoped it would make her see sense. For a
woman who dealt with the harsh realities of life on a daily basis, she seemed to have blinders on in reference
to her own plight.
What do you mean? I thought it was just a one time purse-snatching.
Well, the other victims weren't beaten. I don't know why but it seems as if they targeted you on purpose.
Zacke held out his hand, stopping Miles' almost released fanged growl.
The police department will find whoever attacked Hope.
Miles gnashed his teeth at Zacke's unspoken 55
Faith V. Smith
warning. Centuries of following the man into battle kept him from snarling out a reply. Even as a mortal,
Zacke was a force to be reckoned with. He no longer had the strength or the fangs of a vampire, but he kept a
stubborn will and unbreakable zeal of right and wrong. He would fight to find Hope's attackers and see them
prosecuted by mortal law.
Of course. But in the meantime, Hope needs to be safe.
I agree. Miranda's soft tone broke through the tension-laden air. I also think there is only one solution
to the problem.
All eyes turned to Miranda.
Hope will go home, and Miles will stay with her. Silence reigned for the space of a second.
That's not necessary. Hope squeaked her protest.
I don't think that's a good idea.
Miles ignored the almost stifled guffaws coming from Zacke and Hawk at his pained words. Amusing
didn't describe what would happen if he moved in with Hope.
Miranda, Hope wouldn't be comfortable with me moving in. She needs her rest and you know I'm a
night person.
Yes, and that's why it would be perfect. You would be awake and on guard.
Zacke cleared his throat. The stern blue gaze assured Miles he'd get no help there.
Hope, as much as I hate to rain on your parade, you were a victim. The perps are still loose, and they
took your briefcase, with your wallet, giving them access to your address. Until we catch them, you are in
danger. They could just rob your house, but if you're alone, they could finish the job they started at the
university.
****
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Dunbar's Curse
Fingers of light etched their way across the single window in Hope's basement. Miles had given in to
what he knew was the inevitable, although no one had given any thought to where he would sleep during the
day. He'd told Hope some cock-and-bull story about having to see a sick friend during the day. Not very
original but it had worked. He just thanked God he'd come across the basement during his midnight prowling.
A grin pulled at his lips. It had taken awhile the night before but his angel had finally given an
unenthusiastic yes to having a bodyguard. A reminder that she had seen their faces and would probably be
targeted for that alone helped to garner her agreement. After Zacke called a sketch artist to the house and
Hope had given them her remembered descriptions, Miranda had almost tossed them out the door. The
woman should show some finesse. Surely, Hope had seen the glee not quite hidden by Miranda's concerned
expression.
It had taken only a cup of hot tea to have Hope nodding off. Miles had helped her up to bed but left her to
her own devices. He didn't trust himself to tuck her in.
He moved around the basement and found a mattress wedged into a corner and tugged it into the
middle of the floor. He then placed an empty bookcase in front of the window. He could sleep in peace now but
for one small detail. He waved his hand and the bolt on the basement door locked. It wouldn't do for Hope to
find him one look at his cadaver-like body, and she'd never recover. The mattress sank beneath his weight.
He rested on his side his favorite position for sleeping above ground. His eyes closed, and he welcomed the
darkness of slumber.
****
Hope hobbled to the stove and turned the flame 57
Faith V. Smith
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