And Able by Lucy Monroe Page A

could deal with reality. She hid from it in a bottle. He hid from it in death.”
    “And they both left you to pick up the pieces.”
    “Yes.”
    “You said your mom died.”
    “After a protracted bout of liver cancer. Yes. I took care of her.”
    “That’s why you’re twenty-eight and just finishing your degree?”
    “Bingo. I couldn’t leave her alone to attend classes. I finished my senior year as a homeschooled student.”
    “Let me guess…you taught yourself.”
    “Of course.” She sighed, pushing the old memories away. “So now you know why I can’t be the target of whoever broke in here.”
    He stopped, pulling her around to face him. “How do you figure that?”
    She let their eyes make contact and a craven relief she wished she didn’t feel surged through her. He didn’t look condemning or disbelieving any longer.
    “I may have made a new life for myself, but I don’t have anything anyone would want to steal. And I don’t have a criminal record.” It still rankled that he’d accused her of having a larcenous past. “There is no one in my past or present that could have any reason for doing the break-in.”
    “You can’t be sure of that.”
    “Yes, I can. I don’t make friends easily. The people closest to me are Josette and the residents at Belmont Manor. Tell me, how could my connection to a bunch of elderly people make me the target for what’s been happening?”
    “I don’t know, but it all points to you, Claire.”
    “I don’t see how. The whole house was torn up, not just my bedroom. The guy who attacked me could have thought I was Josette.”
    “That scenario doesn’t feel right. It never did, but nothing else made sense.”
    “It still doesn’t.”
    “Are you sure you’re telling me everything?” He was no longer so cold, but neither was he looking at her with the combination of sexy desire and warm concern she’d grown addicted to so pitifully fast. “I want to help you, Claire, but I can’t do that if you hide stuff from me.”
    Betrayal sliced through her. “I just told you things I’ve never shared with another person and you still think I’m holding back? Do you think I like admitting that my dad killed himself rather than stick it out with my mom and me, or that my mom killed herself, too—just more slowly—with her drinking?”
    “I’m sorry about that, sugar, I really am—”
    “I don’t want your pity,” she said fiercely, cutting him off. “I just want you to see that there is nothing in my life that could make me the target of all of this. All right?”
    “I understand your doubts, but you could be forgetting something, or not thinking in terms that would make a threat a threat. I know this sounds confusing, but this isn’t about me not believing you. It’s about my gut, and it’s telling me you are dead center in the middle of this mess.”
    “Well, your gut is wrong.” She spun on her heel and started back to the house.
    His hand landed on her shoulder, big and warm and impeding her progress.
    She slowed down, but didn’t stop. “Take your hand off of me.” She couldn’t stand him touching her right then.
    “Where do you think you are going?”
    “Where I go and what I do is none of your darn business.” She didn’t care if she was being irrational. She was mad and she wanted to get away from him. The fact that his instincts told him that she was in the middle felt like he was judging her somehow, like he had to see something wrong in her to feel that way.
    “I made it my business when I promised Josie I would keep an eye out for you.”
    The blatant reminder that Josette was the only reason he was there did nothing to improve her mood. “I release you from your promise.” Knowing the words were stupid made her even madder, and she tried to tug away from him so she could walk faster, but he wouldn’t let go.
    He pulled and she found herself wrapped up next to him, his scent and heat taunting her. They stopped again and he