Page 14 of Marked By Moonlight

“I’ll call the cops,” she repeated her threat, using a louder voice this time.

“You could do that.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But the police force is full of hunters. Call them and you’re as good as dead. They wouldn’t waste their time trying to save one infected schoolteacher.”

She gaped. Was there no end to his paranoid fantasies? She was going to have to decide how to best deal with Gideon March. He wasn’t a student misbehaving in the back of the room that she could pretend not to notice. Staring into his intense gaze, she knew he wasn’t going to go away.

“You’re out of your mind,” she muttered, rubbing her wrist beneath her silver bracelet where it had started to itch.

He propped his elbow on the roof of her car and ruffled his longish hair as if battling frustration. “You keep saying that.” He leaned close. Too close. It had been a long time since she had stood this close to a man. Her senses reeled, the musk of him filling her nostrils, making her heart thump against her chest, against breasts that were suddenly heavy and achy.

“I guess it’s easier to pretend I’m crazy,” he murmured. His eyes gleamed in the dawn air, flitting over her face, as if he was committing her features to memory. “What happens when you realize I’m telling the truth?”

The sound of his voice rolled over her like silk sliding against her bare skin. Claire could hardly make sense of his words, could only stare at his well-carved lips as they moved, imagining themdragging across her flesh. Stepping back, she bumped into her car, stopping her from total retreat. “You’re disturbed. Truly. You need help.”

His eyes glinted angrily. Even in the dim light, she could count those flecks of gold in his pale green gaze. “Maybe a little,” he allowed. “Guess I have to be for trying to help a stubborn fool who doesn’t want my help.”

She ignored his dig and strove for a mild tone, trying not to annoy him further. “I’m going now.” She had to step forward to open her car door. Her shoulder grazed his chest and her breath escaped in a hiss. She tossed her bags onto the passenger seat, her movements slow, measured, as if she didn’t want to startle the strange animal beside her. “Good-bye.” She forced a ring of finality into the farewell.

“Think about what I told you. Time off would be smart. You need to—”

She closed her car door, signaling her disinterest in his words. As discreetly as possible, she pressed the lock button.

He smiled grimly and leaned back against his Jeep, arms crossed over his chest like a man completely relaxed and content with himself and all his paranoid delusions.

Rubbing her stinging wrist, she eyed the lean length of him with admiring disgust. The guy could be a Calvin Klein model. What a waste. Shaking her head, she put both hands on the steering wheel and backed out. Facing forward again, she caught sight of herself in the rearview mirror, the image startling. The sleek image of herself with the severe ponytail and pewter gaze filled her with unease.

At the first stoplight, she flipped on her overhead light to glare in consternation at her stinging wrist. The skin beneath the silver bracelet was an angry red, almost like it had been burned. She undid the clasp and tossed the bracelet into the cup holder. The light turned green. Stepping on the accelerator, she proceeded,rubbing the inflamed skin absently as she concentrated on putting Gideon March out of her mind.

Gideon groaned when he spotted the familiar Tahoe in his driveway. Its shiny chrome finish glinted in the afternoon sun. He parked alongside the curb in front of his house to make sure he wouldn’t block the vehicle from departing.

“It’s my damned driveway,” he muttered, shifting into park with an angry jerk and killing the engine. “Why doesn’thepark in the street?”

He wasn’t in the mood for this particular visitor. Especially since it called for pretending that everything was normal, business as usual, that his thoughts weren’t tangled up inher.

Easier said than done. Claire Morgan was one stubborn, aggravating woman. He had said everything he could to convince her, done everything he could. Well, almost everything. Gideon grimaced. He hoped it didn’t come to that. He’d spare her that if he could. But how could he help her if she wouldn’t cooperate? She either jumped onboard to save her ass or it was over.

Dragging a hand through his hair, he reminded himself that it shouldn’t matter, thatsheshouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t be so complicated. He shouldn’t think about his attraction to her, shouldn’t think about stripping her naked and settling his body over hers.

The blare of the television greeted him as he stepped onto his porch. Someone had made himself right at home. Gideon unlocked the door and strolled into his living room, eyeing the man relaxing in his overstuffed La-Z-Boy, beer in one hand, remote control in the other.

His voice carried over the din of the television. “It’s a comfort to know the local police break in to people’s homes these days.”

“Not everyone’s home. Just yours,” Cooper corrected, his eyes never leaving the television.

“What brings you here?” Gideon noted the bag of Cheetos in Cooper’s lap—the bag taken from the top ofhisrefrigerator. “Besides my food and television.”

“Can you believe this guy?” Cooper pointed a Cheeto at the screen, where a young man wearing pants that rode dangerously low stormed off theJerry Springerset. “He just got the DNA testprovingthe kid is his, and he still refuses to believe it.”

Denial was a sore subject right now. It reminded Gideon of a particular woman and her own penchant for denying the truth. And she was the last thing he should be thinking about around this man. Cooper McPherson was no fool. He hadn’t risen to board director of the Greater Houston Area division of NODEAL by being dense. Even if he did like watchingJerry Springerreruns, the man was sharp, suspicious by nature, and one hell of an agent. And he knew Gideon. Damned well. Well enough to know when something was bothering him, but not—Gideon hoped—to know when he lied. Because in the case of Claire Morgan, he was going to have to lie through his teeth.

Gideon eased down on the couch and tossed his keys on the coffee table, uncomfortable and doing his best to hide it. Until now, Gideon had never kept anything from Cooper. They had no secrets. Never had. Cooper was like a big brother. Always around to bully and kick him in the ass when he needed it. Sometimes even when he didn’t.

“How can you watch this crap?” Gideon grunted as he yanked a pillow from behind his back to lounge more comfortably. He had to rely on the image of relaxation since his gut was knotted with tension.

“Ah, it’s not crap. It’s life, my friend.” For all of Cooper’s jovial air, his eyes were hard and shrewd as they turned on Gideon. “Youcan learn a lot from watching these shows. They show humanity at its worst. See that fella there ignoring his responsibility?” He waved a hand in the direction of the television. “That’s too often the case. Men just don’t come through and fulfill their obligations.”

Funny, Cooper wasn’t looking at the screen as he said this. He looked straight at Gideon. Clearly, he wasn’t talking about society. Gideon had to force himself not to fidget. Slow, even breaths.

A long moment passed. They stared at one another. Cooper finally cut to the point of his visit. “Where you been? I haven’t heard from you since Friday night’s call.”

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