Feel the Heat (3 page)

On the other hand, she wasn’t too anxious to have a stranger prowling around her house, even if the Hallorans vouched for him completely. She’d learned by now how to hole up with the blinds and curtains tightly shut when this happened, riding out the media circus of the moment. The police presence when Hurley could spare someone helped too. But eventually the bloodhounds got tired of getting no response and drifted off to harass some other poor soul. And she could resume what passed for a normal life. Up until now, everyone—including Faith and Mark—left her to it. Her home had never actually been breached, so why did they now think it necessary to send her someone to check out her safety?

Idly, she wondered what he was like. Would he be like Mark Halloran, the quintessential alpha male who fairly radiated the aura of a warrior in full battle mode? Yet he had a soft side when it came to his wife. Muscular and ruggedly good-looking, Mark attracted glances from women wherever he went, yet Lauren had never seen him show an iota of interest in anyone besides Faith. Not to mention the fact that he was definitely someone she’d want in her corner in a situation like this. She hoped Troy would be the same type of person.

When the doorbell rang, she was gripped by a sudden attack of nerves, her palms sweating for no reason. She wiped them on her jeans and looked through the peephole. What she saw was an identification folder with a photo ID and Troy Arsenault, Phoenix Agency, in black capital letters, along with the Phoenix logo.

“It’s me,” he called through the door. “Maybe you’d better let me in before your friends out here decide to join me.”

Friends? What friends?

She cracked the door a little, and her heart sank when she realized some of the reporters and photographers had wandered back closer to the house, apparently hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Or to get a quick shot at her before the cops chased them away. At least they were staying off her lawn. A cruiser would be driving by again before too long and they’d get chased away. She swallowed hard against the sudden rise of panic.

I won’t give in to it. Everything’s going to be fine. They’ll go away, and I can have my life back.

Lauren slid off the safety chain and opened the door just enough for Troy to slip through. When she closed it, she hooked the chain again and turned the deadbolt. Then she turned to the man in her foyer.

She was prepared to be polite, let him do his thing and send him on his way. But when she looked at the man standing there, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and all her breath was trapped in her lungs. Faith had told her Troy Arsenault was a former SEAL and as far as Lauren was concerned, he could have been the poster boy for recruiting. He was as tall as Mark, with a lean runner’s body and deeply tanned skin. His light-brown hair was just a tad long, curling at the neck of his shirt, the kind of hair a woman wanted to run her fingers through.

But it was his face that was the most arresting. Ruggedly handsome, like Mark, high cheekbones were slashes on either side of his nose and eyes the color of melted chocolate studied her from beneath unexpectedly dark eyebrows and lashes.

Holy crap!

Her reaction to him was hot and totally unexpected and she made a deliberate effort to tamp it down. For one thing, he was only here to make sure she was safe. For another, her history with men was so unpleasant that she’d decided to swear off them completely. The last thing she needed was to have her ruthlessly controlled hormones decide to take a walk on the wild side. How terribly inconvenient that those hormones chose this moment to start galloping through her system again. Maybe she should have insisted harder to Faith that she didn’t need anyone.

“Looks like you’re pretty popular with the folks out there.” His mouth curved in a smile but his tone was dead serious. When she didn’t comment he asked, “You okay?”

Lauren gave herself a mental shake. What was going on with her? She had a problem here and this man had kindly agreed to come check it out as a favor to her friends. This was business, not pleasure. She’d hoped for someone at least appealing to look at but Troy Arsenault had danger written all over him.

“Sorry.” She didn’t know if her hands trembled because of the mob outside or the nearness of this man. She shoved them into the pockets of her jeans. “Thank you for coming over here, although I don’t think it was really necessary.”

“From what I saw outside, this may be a little more serious than you think.” He held out his hand. “Troy Arsenault. But you already know that, right? Nice to meet you, Lauren.”

“Same goes. And the idiots outside will probably go away the next time a police car comes by.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah? Doesn’t look like it to me.”

She suddenly found herself tongue-tied. What happened next? “Um, would you like some coffee? I made a fresh pot.”

“Thanks. That would be nice.”

She led the way into her kitchen and motioned for him to have a seat at the table. Figuring the first rush of phone calls would have subsided by now, she picked up the receiver from the counter and replaced it in the cradle. Her hand hovered over it a moment as she waited to see if it rang. When it didn’t, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned to occupy herself taking down mugs and filling them. As she poured the coffee, she tried to focus on the situation and not the man. Troy Arsenault had an electric magnetism about him that made the air sizzle and scrambled her brain. And that was the last thing she needed right now.

Troy smiled at her when she sat down opposite him, the kind of smile that bathed you in warmth.

“Faith and Mark filled me in a little bit on what’s happening,” he began, “but I’d really like to get the details from you.”

Lauren took a sip of coffee, set her mug down in front of her.

“How much do you know about psychic healing?” she asked.

“More than you probably think. I’ve met a couple of healers and talked to them, although not as much as I would have liked. But I was interested enough to do some research on it.” He took a swallow of the hot brew in his mug. “I know there’s more than one kind. Mark said you’re a touch healer.”

She nodded. “I’ve had what people call ‘the gift’ since I was a teenager. My mother is part Cherokee and she also is a healer, as were her mother and her grandmother. In our family, the healing arts came down on the matriarchal side.”

“Tell me about the little boy you just treated,” he encouraged.

Because he was obviously interested and not looking to sensationalize her, Lauren explained all about Rory Flanagan, his condition and the process by which she had healed him.

“The only request I made was no publicity at all.” She shook her head. “I realize it was an accident. Rory’s aunt was so excited about it she couldn’t help telling the guy she’s dating. My bad luck that he’s a television news reporter.”

“Is it always this wild when word gets out?”

She nodded. “It’s like vultures descending on roadkill. They camp out in front of my house, bang on my door, disturb my neighbors. I’ve become close friends with the sergeant at the local precinct who luckily has sympathy for me and doesn’t think I’m a nut. He always sends patrol cars to clear the area and then schedules regular drive-bys. At least for a day or so.”

“But then what?” Troy wanted to know.

Lauren frowned. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“The cops aren’t going to drive past your house forever. What’s to stop people from harassing you then? Do you have an unlisted number? A good security system for the house?”

Although his voice was calm and soothing, the things Troy brought up disturbed her. The notoriety that exploded every time the news media discovered she’d healed someone else had become an unpleasant part of her life, but she had schooled herself not to panic and to deal with it. At first it had been frightening, but with each succeeding incident, she’d learned to handle it a little better. Even her family had stopped trying to insist she come and stay with one of them until the furor died down. So far it had been mostly noise, ringing her doorbell and the constant phone calls. She’d changed her phone number to an unlisted one, but it hadn’t helped. Someone always seemed to find it, so she just stopped using the house phone during these episodes and stuck to her cell.

No one had ever actually tried to forcibly enter her house or attack her, except verbally. Even when her stalker popped up, she never considered him as anything other than someone who liked the sound of his own voice. She tried to explain all of that to Troy.

“I have three deadbolts on all the exterior doors and safety locks on the windows,” she said slowly. “Last year, I had a security system installed, but maybe it needs to be upgraded. And I do have an unlisted number, although people seem to have a way of finding it, no matter how often I change it.” She shrugged. “After a few days the newshounds go away though. The curiosity seekers stop driving by. Even my phone calls eventually stop.”

“He’s never come to the house? Never tried to push his way in?”

She shook her head. “He used to send me letters too, but he’s stopped that. Now it’s only the calls with a bunch of threats and nasty language.”

“That doesn’t mean things can’t escalate. And from what I saw on the news this morning and outside just now, you need to be prepared in case they do.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “This is really the worst it’s ever been. I don’t know what’s so special about this incident but it’s lit a fire under everyone.”

Troy finished his coffee and stood up. “Let’s walk through the house so I can check windows and doors and we’ll figure out what you need.”

Lauren reached out to take the mug from him. When their fingers brushed bolts of electricity shot through her arm and into her body. Long-buried feelings of sexual awareness zinged to life, freezing her in place.

“Lauren?” Troy’s voice broke through the fog surrounding her brain. “Are you okay?”

“What? Oh yes. Sorry.”

But when she looked up at him, she saw a corresponding shocked awareness in his eyes. Whatever it was, he’d felt it too.

She nearly stumbled as she backed away from him, gathering her wits as she rinsed the mugs in the sink and put them in the dishwasher. When she turned back to face him, she felt more in control.

“Where do you want to start?”

“Front door’s a good place. We’ll do room by room down here, then head upstairs.”

As they walked through the lower floor, Troy checked doors and windows, nooks and crannies and made notes on his iPhone. When they climbed the stairs to the second floor Lauren was acutely aware of Troy behind her, almost as if he was touching her. Nerves sparked beneath the surface of her skin and her pulse throbbed everywhere. They moved slowly from room to room. Whenever their bodies touched accidentally or their hands brushed, Lauren felt that same explosive reaction.

When they came to the door of her bedroom, she stepped back to let him enter, inexplicably nervous about being in the room with him. He looked at her, one corner of his mouth twitching as if a grin was teasing at it, before he walked in and did his usual check. By the time they finished with the room, she was a nervous wreck and not sure she understood why. Still, she did her best to conceal it.

She felt a lot better when they were back in the kitchen, a room with no beds. But when she looked at him, that sense of awareness still lurked in his eyes, the brown deepened to a rich chocolate. She had to use all her wits to focus on the conversation.

“Faith and Mark are good friends,” she told him, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “They wouldn’t have asked you to do this if they didn’t have some concerns. So what do you think I should do?”

“The first thing we need to talk about,” he began, “is getting you much better electronic protection, not just for the house but the entire property. A system with a lot more bells and whistles. Living by yourself, it’s good to have one anyway.”

Lauren shrugged. “I guess you’re right. But it’s a terrible thing to think you aren’t safe in your own home.”

He moved closer to her, his very masculine aftershave drifting across her nose. Good lord, what was wrong with her? She had a problem and thinking about sex wasn’t going to help it.

“All we’re doing is making your home as safe as possible,” he told her. “Unfortunately, experience tells me this probably isn’t the last time something like this will happen. Who knows how aggressive things might get in the future.”

She shivered at the thought but nodded. “Okay then.”

Before he could say anything else the landline rang, its sound shrill and jarring, and without thinking she lifted the receiver.

“Hello?”

“You’ve gone too far this time, you freak.” The voice was low and filled with venom and totally recognizable. “Someone needs to wipe you off the face of the earth before you do some real harm.”

Nerves jittery already, Lauren dropped the phone into the cradle as if it was a hot poker.

Troy took one of her hands, his touch grounding her as shivers raced through her body. “Tell me.”

She wet her lips. “It was him. The stalker.”

The muscles in Troy’s face tightened. He opened his mouth to say something when the phone rang again. “Don’t answer it,” he ordered her. “Let it ring.”

“He’ll just keep calling,” Lauren protested. “Eventually he’ll get tired of it and stop. At least for today. I’ll just take the receiver off like I did earlier.”

Sure enough, the phone rang a third time.

Troy held up a hand to her as he reached for the instrument. “Let me.”

Troy didn’t know what he expected when he lifted the phone, but it wasn’t the stream of vitriol that spewed over the connection. He didn’t even need to utter a greeting before it began.

“Don’t ever hang up on me, you mutant. You bitch. You’d better answer my calls, or I might have to step up my efforts to rid society of you. Before you actually kill someone with your mumbo jumbo.”

Troy didn’t say a word, just let the man rant for another minute or two, growing angrier by the minute. What he heard disturbed him greatly, and he had to grit his teeth to keep his control in place. He had dealt with people like this before, and the end result was never good. The man was obviously disturbed and obsessed with destroying Lauren, and it might not be too much longer before he moved from phone calls to a personal appearance. All of Troy’s experience told him this man was perched on the edge of a ledge and about to fall over into escalated violence.