The Right To Remain Mine by Linda Kage

on him. But he'd left it in his truck, sitting uselessly in DeVane's driveway. Lacking any kind of weapon, Raith slinked toward the kitchen and paused at the doorway, where he could make out the shape of a man by his wide shoulders, short hair, and taller height.
            The perpetrator moved past the window where moonlight filtered inside. When Raith saw a knife in his hand, he pounced. Without a sound, he grabbed the burglar's wrist and twisted, hoping to shake the knife out of the equation. Taking his opponent by surprise gave him a moment's worth of advantage, but that was it.
            Letting out a sound of surprise, the intruder instantly resisted and started to struggle. In the process, he lost his grip on the knife.
            When Raith heard the metal blade clatter and slide across the linoleum, he immediately jerked his knee up into the middle of his assailant's back. The man let out a grunt of pain, and Raith locked his arm around his neck, dragging him backward and to the ground. Hoping they didn't get anywhere near the fallen knife, he attempted to pin the trespasser.
            Slippery as an eel, the intruder lurched up and threw Raith off him, but Raith kept his arm securely locked around his windpipe. Both of them careened into the side of the refrigerator. When they went rolling the other way, they smacked the table and knocked a chair over.
            The tumbling stool must have landed on his opponent's leg and trapped him to the floor because Raith suddenly had the upper hand. He whipped the shadow around onto his stomach and straddled him, sitting on the base of his spine.
            Just as he opened his mouth to demand answers, the kitchen light came on, blinding him. Raith cursed and lifted a hand to shade his eyes. When his prisoner squirmed under him, he twisted his arm back behind him at an odd angle to subdue him again.
            "What in the world is going on?" Willow's breathless voice demanded.
            Raith squinted at her poised in the doorway, wearing a forest green bathrobe. He didn't much care for the relief he felt seeing her alive and unharmed.
            "Call the station," he panted, out of breath. "You've got a trespasser."
            "I... what?" Willow padded barefoot into the room so she could see the man under him.
            Turning his head her way, her intruder frowned up at her and snapped, "Willow!" Short of breath, mostly because Raith was sitting on his ribcage and squashing his lungs, it took him another moment to add, "Get this… jackass… off me!"
            Raith glanced down in surprise, not expecting the trespasser to actually know her.
            Willow's eyes widened. "Dylan!" she said in the exact moment Raith realized he recognized the face as well.
            Oh, hell. "Taggart," he growled. It had been a long time since he'd arrested Dylan Taggart.
            Actually, he figured Dylan Taggart had left town or died because Raith hadn't seen him in so long.
            He unconsciously tightened his hold until Taggart let out a grunt of pain, wondering what in the Sam Hell this shit bag was doing in DeVane's kitchen at three in the morning on a Wednesday. Because if Taggert was sharing her bed, too—
            Willow sighed and shot Raith a short look. "Malloy. Stop picking on poor Dylan. Let him up."
            Raith looked up at her, his jaw set in disgust. "You know him?"
            "Well... yeah. Of course."
            Snorting, Raith didn't realize he only tightened his grip. "What? Did you take care of his divorce too?" Just like good ol' Theo Franklin.
            His question seemed to surprise her. "No," she said, not catching his sarcasm. Then she grinned. "Actually, I helped set him up with his wife."
            Relieved to hear Taggart was married and, therefore, might not be looking for a spot in her bed,