Page 22 of Special Agent Anastacia

“Shush. Quit talking. Don’t spoil it.”

“But—”

Biting off the words, rage apparent in every syllable, she repeated, “Qu-it tal-king.” She groaned her disapproval and started to push away angrily.

Knowing that pissing her off was the last thing he intended; he hauled her back in his arms and stood in one movement. Carrying her like she weighed nothing, which to him was easy, he moved to the staircase and began the climb.

Her arms were back around his neck, and she’d tucked her face in so close, her rioting curls covered her features.

Unable to view her reaction to this unexpected move, he went by the way she clung to him, cuddling into him and accepted it as her willingness for what he intended next.

Seeing the open door, he stepped inside and found the covers pushed aside. Carefully, he lowered her, expecting to follow her down only to see the saintly witch had passed out. A tiny snorebroke into his disappointment as she snuggled into her pillow while clutching it to her. Sitting next to her, he watched her sleep and finally got to see the composed, cool-assed lady without her mask.

Sighing with remorse, he hesitated for seconds before gently covering her body. He stared at the lush lips that had driven him wild and wondered if she knew what her kisses could do to a relatively sane man. Knowing by wavering, he was playing with fire, he gently brushed back her soft curls, kissed her forehead with soft lips, and headed for the downstairs shower he’d already used once that night.

Unable to find his way around easily in the light from the full moon, he turned on the lamp and came to a dead stop.

What the fuck!

He called out. “Who’s there?” But wasn’t surprised when no answer followed.

Still shocked, he rushed toward the now open patio door and stopped when he came to the end of the cement surface. Staring into the night, he listened and heard sounds that he knew all too well. Heart racing, he followed the sudden smell and saw flames flaring up near the garden shed. The sight made his blood run cold. Grabbing the nearby hose, he prayed it would work and was thrilled when the water gushed out.

He knew exactly where to place the water for the best benefit and soon had control of the small blaze. Not taking any chances, he washed everything well in the vicinity and then ripped at the brush nearby, tearing it away from where the fire had been and spread the works out so he could soak them well. An hour later, exhausted, filthy, and sweat-drenched he turned to see Ana rushing toward him, her face a study in disbelief.

“Look at you! You’re soaked. Why in God’s name didn’t you come and get me?”

Whaa??!!

He’d have taken great joy in shooting her down if her next move hadn’t been to throw her arms around him and hug hard. Within seconds, she dragged him inside where she forced him to use her blanket and led him to the kitchen where she brewed a pot of strong coffee.

Chapter Seventeen

Ana was still furious about the danger Nash had faced alone. But at least she understood his reasoning. And agreed he’d had no choice but to fight the fire to have any chance of stopping it from spreading. His skills and quick thinking had saved their property, hell… probably saved the whole community.

Ana needed to quit bitching and instead thank the good Lord Jesus he was there in the right place at the right time. She knew it and was also aware that her fussing had shaken him, probably even thrown him off balance. But he’d allowed her the liberty and seemed to understand she’d only spoken out of fear for his safety.

It wasn’t until he admitted that the reason he’d stepped outside in the first place had been to follow whoever had broken into the house that she stiffened… her eyes flashing.

Poking at his chest, she demanded, “Why in a fool’s world did you go outside and give him a good target?”

“Ow.” He made a face and rubbed at the spot like a little kid might soothe a sore. “Never thought about it that way. You figure it’s our killer?”

“Hell if I know. But why take chances?”

“I’m glad I did, or it would’ve been too late for me to stop the fire.”

He had her there… making sense again. Dammit, now she had to back off. “Right. You’re right. Sorry.” Apologizing came hard for Ana, well except when it was deserved. And God only knew Nash had been a hero, andsheneeded to get over herself.

Absentmindedly, she soothed him where her finger had drilled and then stepped away to go to the living room to retrieve her weapon.

Unaware of her intentions, Nash went to his truck to grab clean clothes and take his well-needed shower. During his absence, she quickly dressed and headed to survey the area outside where the squatter had broken in. Same as before, they’d used a key, and because Nash hadn’t closed the recently attached inside bolt, it had been easy. Thank goodness he’d interrupted whoever it was, and they’d fled, leaving the patio door open. Otherwise, she might never have known they’d been invaded again.

According to his story, he’d stepped outside to get some air before hitting the sack. But he swore he’d closed the door tightly and turned the lock, sadly without thinking to slide the bolt shut too. Of course, it was before he’d joined her for a drink.

Hearing his story, Ana surmised that whoever had been squatting in their house had kept the key, and it only made sense that they would have used it again this time. The more she thought about it, the more she decided it most likely happened just that way.

After all, the key they’d hidden outside under the flowerpot had disappeared and was probably the same one the housebreaker had first used. Foolishly, she hadn’t had the lock changed after knowing they’d had an unwanted visitor. Just added the bolt thinking it would work as a sufficient deterrent.

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