Page 50 of Protecting Peyton

Because I could too easily lose myself in you if I don’t keep as much distance as possible. Nope, I wasn’t admitting that. “I like the way March sounds. It reminds me of springtime.

He appraised me skeptically.

“I’m a mistake. Find yourself a nice girl with good birthing hips and make your mother and yourself happy. Start on the five or six kids your mother still wants.”

Shaking his head, he backed out of the room. “Keep my offer in mind.” He pointed down the hall. “The bathroom is the next door down. Yell if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.” His tone had gone cold.

“Do you need to test me before bed?” My annoyance with his insistence at checking my balance and mental faculties had waned and become an appreciation of his concern for my well-being. And I didn’t want our final words tonight to be angry ones.

“How do you feel? Do you want to be tested?” he asked curtly. He didn’t like the way I’d shut down any more than I did.

The knot on the back of my head still hurt when I touched it. My shoulder, I could deal with on my own. “No, I feel fine.”

“Okay then. Sleep well, because you’re safe in this house. Nobody is getting to you or your things. Not with me around.” His tone had softened.

I nodded. “Thanks. Goodnight.” I almost addedZaneto that, but caught myself in time.

Before bed, I went through the shoulder-stretching exercises I would have given any of my patients to perform. Would I ever get back to my professional life? It seemed so long ago now.

While I stretched, I thought about what Karla had said about children. She’d wanted five or six, but could only have March. That was a pain I hadn’t ever contemplated.

I’d never given motherhood much thought. Sure, I’d figured I’d find the right man at some point and want a family. It hurt to think that I had to wait until the Strangler was caught before I could consider motherhood at all.

What if he was never caught?That possibility turned my stomach.

After changing into my sleep shorts and top, I hurried down the hall to brush my teeth.

In the mirror, I could see it was time to renew my hair color, because my darker roots were showing.

In Atlanta, I’d chosen red. It hadn’t been easy to keep up, so when I’d needed to come to LA, I’d bleached that away and cut it to become a shoulder-length blonde. So what if no one would mistake me for a natural blonde? The LA me only had to look different from the Boston me and the Atlanta me.

Back in the bedroom, I slipped under the sheets and tried my hardest to not think of the sexy SEAL. It didn’t work, and my hand slipped down to the top of my shorts.

Would it hurt to indulge in a small fantasy?

Dammit, it would, I decided. Self-control was a necessary quality to stay alive, so I rolled over, and sleep eventually dragged me under.

Zane

Go finda woman with good birthing hips to make Mom happy?Her statement had angered me. It was the ultimate take-a-hike comment.

“She seems like a very nice girl,” Mom said when I returned to the table.

“She is,” I agreed.

“Ruppie, she’s hiding something. I can tell. Do you know what’s troubling her?” Mom’s daily work with the underbelly of society as a probation officer had given her a sixth sense about people.

“She won’t say.”

“Smith is also not her name. You can’t be a Smith and not know a James, David, Robert, John, or Michael. I know the statistics because Smith is such a common name for one of my runners to choose as an alias.”

It always amazed me what odd facts she knew as a result of her work.

“I know it’s not Peyton Smith,” I agreed. “I just don’t know who she really is yet.”

Mom patted my hand. “Well, dear, you keep an eye on her. It seems she needs your help.”

“I plan to.”