Andrew Walkson, her stalker, was the same height as her. He had a slim build, but she’d learned that he was still strong. She knew very well that men were stronger, even when they didn’t have a big, muscular build.
It had not been Andrew Walkson choking her.
“I’ve no idea who that man was. It had to be a random attack, right? Some crazy?”
Hunt grunted. His hands stroked her back soothingly. Then he reached up and touched her collarbone. As he looked at her neck, she watched his face darken. Something dangerous moved through his eyes.
“I’m okay,” she assured him.
“No, you’re not. You need to go to the hospital.”
“No! No hospital.”
He frowned. “You want to tell me why?”
Because of the paperwork. A trail that Walkson could follow. Plus, she hated the hospital. She spent terrifying hours in one, after she’d survived Walkson’s attack.
“Because.”
“Savannah—”
She pressed a hand to his jaw. His stubble was rough under her fingers. “Hunter, please.”
He released a breath. “Fine, but I’m calling this in, then calling my brother.”
“The hot paramedic?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t notice or mention that first part.”
Despite the circumstances, she smiled. “I noticed his hot cop brother first.”
Hunt kissed her lips gently. “Good.”
Her heart squeezed. Alarm bells were ringing in her head, very loudly. She needed to run.
She needed to get away from here, from this man.
She listened as he called in the attack, then had a short conversation with his brother, who didn’t seem fazed about coming out in the middle of the night.
Every instinct told her to bolt and not look back.
But Savannah didn’t run. She didn’t move. Instead, she held on to Hunter and snuggled deeper into his big, strong body.
For now, just for a little while longer, she’d stay and absorb the sense of safety he generated. The sense of someone giving a shit about her.
Just for tonight.
Chapter Six
The officers had arrived quickly, and Hunt took them through the events of the evening as they all walked through Savannah’s place.
“Looks like he picked the lock on the front door,” Officer Charles said. “Did a good job of it, too. There’s little damage.”
Hunt grunted. He looked across Savannah’s living room. She was curled in the corner of the couch while Ryder finished checking her over.
Just the sight of the growing bruises on her neck was enough to stir Hunt’s slowly simmering rage.
“I don’t think we’ll get any prints,” Officer Charles added.
“No,” Hunt agreed. “The asshole wore gloves.”
“Well, we’ll run a check for any similar attacks and let you know. Sorry this happened to her.”
“Thanks, Charles.”
Hunt saw the officers out. Then he moved over to the couch.
Those turbulent, gray eyes locked on him.
As she watched him, she took a deep breath and relaxed a little. It was like she needed to see him to stay calm. He liked knowing that because he was there, it steadied her.
Fuck if that wasn’t a good feeling.
“She needs rest,” Ryder said. “We’ve iced her neck. The painkillers will take the edge off. There’s nothing broken or damaged, so time will do the rest.”
“Thanks, Ryder,” Hunt said.
“Sure thing, bro.” Ryder met his gaze. You’ve got this?
I’ve got this.
Ryder gave him a chin lift. Keep her safe.
After Hunt’s brother packed up his black bag, he gently touched a finger to Savannah’s cheekbone, then headed out.
Savannah curled into a tighter ball. “I don’t know why someone would do this. That asshole!”
It was nice to see some color in her cheeks.
She looked scared, mad, and frustrated all mixed together. She looked up at him and tucked a curl back behind her ear. “Thanks, Hunter. If you hadn’t come in…” She looked at the floor.
The bastard would’ve killed her. Hunt’s gut went tight. “You’re moving in with me.”
Her head jerked up, her eyes popped wide. “What?”
“You aren’t safe alone. I’ll board up the door for tonight, then call someone to repair it tomorrow.”
“So I’ll stay with you just for tonight?”
“No. Until I’m satisfied you’re safe. You have any idea who’d target you?”
She looked away, staring blindly out the window.
“Savannah?”
She looked back, wary.
“You know I’m a detective?” he said.
She nodded.
“I know when someone’s lying, or not telling me the entire truth.”
She bit her lip, then pulled in a deep breath. “I swear that I don’t know that man who attacked me. I promise you.”
Damn, Hunt believed her. “But there’s another one out there, who’s after you.”
She looked away again, shoulders slumping. She looked so tired.
Hunt felt a violent urge to not only protect her, but to look after her. “Come on. Let’s grab some clothes, and whatever else you’re going to need at my place.”
She rose and moved to the stairs up to her bedroom. He followed her, and when she stopped at the door to her room abruptly, he tensed.
“Um, I can pack some things myself—”
“I’m not leaving you alone.” He reached past her and snapped the light on.
He figured she’d left it messy. Maybe she had underwear strewn all over the floor?
Instead, he saw the large canvas leaning against the wall and froze.
It was stunning, and erotic as hell. It was done in a fascinating style, with daubs of paint, giving it a dreamy quality. A man, still clothed, holding a naked, blonde woman. Her sensuous body was tipped back, his mouth at her breast.
Fuck. It was him. And Savannah.
She made a beeline to the closet, avoiding looking at him. Hunt stared at the painting. It was beautiful, sexy. His cock stirred.
He wanted it.
Like how he wanted Savannah Cole.
But right now, he needed her safe.
She came back with a large, black overnight bag.
“I want to buy the painting,” he said.
“It’s not for sale.”
“It’s mine. And we both know it.” He took the bag from her.
“It’s not you,” she said.
“Don’t lie,” he said. “You need anything else?”
She looked lost. She touched her throat and winced.
The sight of her developing bruises stirred his rage and protective instincts again. He wanted that fear and uncertainty off her face. She needed a distraction.
“What about your toy?” he asked.
She blinked. “My what?”
He waved to the bedside table. “Your toy. I heard you use it. My bed is on the other side of that wall.”
“What?” It wasn’t quite a screech, but it was close. Color filled her cheeks.
Yep, that was much better than the fear and worry.
She stalked over to him, and tried to grab her bag. “What I do in my own bedroom is none of your business, Detective. Now, give me the bag. I’ll carry it.”