“They must have loved you,” Rourke said, chuckling.
“They didn’t argue and moved along.”
“Thanks,” Tessa said. “But I don’t expect you to chase off all the idiot hunters in the area and risk them shooting you accidentally.”
“They’re too close to your—” As soon as they came into view of the house, Hunter saw the back door standing wide open. He felt Tessa crumple slightly against him. Tightening his hold on her, he knew she wouldn’t have left the house unlocked. The intruder was once again warning them he could come and go as he pleased. Maybe not such a beta after all.
Rourke’s chill-bitten cheeks instantly lost their red color. “I saw you lock the door.”
“Someone’s got a key.” Tessa’s voice shook.
Hunter gave her a reassuring squeeze, but until he could eliminate the threat, nothing he did would alleviate her concern and for good reason. The stalker was a real danger.
Rourke rubbed his gloved hands. “Who?”
“We don’t know. Ashton maybe. But whoever it was got in last night when I went to get firewood from the beach,” she said.
“Ashton?” Rourke asked.
“No,” Hunter said, not wanting Tessa to fear the wrong man. “Someone else. Wait here with Tessa. I’ll check out the place first.”
Tessa looked like she had a million questions to ask Hunter, but with Rourke here, the inquisition would have to wait. Hunter stalked inside, monitoring Rourke and Tessa’s conversation as he checked the rooms.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Rourke asked Tessa on the porch, sheltered from the sleet and wind.
“Hunter was here. He can take care of it.”
“Hunter was here all night?” Rourke asked, his tone not hiding his surprise or irritation.
Hunter couldn’t help smiling, figuring Tessa hadn’t meant to let it slip. Good to let Rourke know he had no chance with her.
“Good thing that he was.”
Glad she felt he was an asset despite the fact he hadn’t gotten rid of the stalker, Hunter smelled the bastard’s scent where he had rolled on Tessa’s sheets again. Hunter growled low.
“And the window he was boarding up?” Rourke asked Tessa.
“The intruder broke it.”
“Hell, Tessa, you should never have said you were going to locate the killer and clear Michael’s name.”
Headed back down the hall, Hunter stopped in his footsteps, not believing Tessa would say that to a reporter. Then again, he could, as angry as he imagined she’d been.
“Did you print the interview?” she asked, her voice accusing.
“Damn right I did. Best news I’ve had in a long time. But I didn’t think anyone else was guilty of the crime except your brother so I didn’t believe there was anything to worry about. If I had thought differently, I would never have printed that story.”
Hunter wanted to kill the reporter.
“All clear,” Hunter said, rejoining them on the back patio. He gave both Tessa and Rourke a hard look. “Looks like nothing’s been disturbed.” At least as far as he would let Tessa know for now. The gray had returned to find out where Hunter had slept for the night and returned to mark his claim to Tessa. Sorry to disappoint him. “What’s this about an interview?”
Tessa swore Hunter had the hearing of a cat, although she had hoped he hadn’t heard what Rourke revealed about the interview. “I was angry.” Not that she felt she had any need to explain the way she felt to Hunter.
Did he remember anything more about his past? She knew Grey wasn’t his real name. Not if the way he had shaken his head at her earlier was any indication of the truth of the matter. She only wished Rourke would go away soon so she could ask Hunter what else he had recalled and why he was so certain the intruder wasn’t Ashton.
A shiver crawled up her spine. She felt she could deal with knowing it was Ashton, but if it was a total stranger… No, it had to be someone she knew because he had a key. But still, not knowing who made it more frightening.
Rourke pulled off his wet coat and handed it to Tessa. “I’m staying for dinner.”
Her mouth dropped. Now, she remembered why the guy had been an on-again/off-again boyfriend in her youth. He decided things for her, which were not in her best interests. She meant to remind him the electricity was off, but Hunter cut in.
“Sounds good. Why don’t you stay the night, too?”
Tessa glared at Hunter. Of all the damned nerve!
Ignoring her threatening look, Hunter continued, “The roads are too slick. You might not get very much farther down the road and be in the same predicament. If you got injured, we wouldn’t be able to forgive ourselves.”
Her mouth gaped open. The thing was, Hunter was right. But whose house was it anyway? Shouldn’t she have a say?
For the first time since the two men had met, Rourke seemed to change his attitude about Hunter. He gave him a serious nod. She could tell he was damned thrilled to get Lord Hunter’s invitation for the slumber party.
She hung up Rourke’s coat on a wooden peg near the back door. “You know, guys, it would be nice to ask the hostess her opinion. The electricity’s still not on and—”
“I’ll fix the food,” Hunter said, and before she could object further, he added, “Rourke won’t mind cleaning the dishes afterwards.” He gave Rourke a conspirator’s wink.
“Not at all,” Rourke said, jumping in, ensuring he got a bed for the night.
“I might not have enough food to eat for the three of us, especially since we have to cook so primitively.”
“I saw a tenderloin roast in the freezer. Looked to be big enough for the three of us.”
She scowled at Hunter. “What if I was saving that for—”
“I’ll buy you another. A couple more.”
Hell, he didn’t even have the clothes on his back. How was he going to replenish her fridge?
“I’ll buy you another, too,” Rourke said, cheerfully.
She groaned inwardly. She wasn’t winning this battle. But she realized Hunter wasn’t worried about Rourke’s welfare, so much as he was about hers. Her irritation melted some.
“So,” Rourke said, taking a seat on the couch, “I’m an only child, Tessa has a brother. What about you, Hunter? Have any siblings?”
Hunter cast Tessa a look, and then started working on building up the dwindling fire. “A sister.”
Ohmigod, he remembered who he was? Maybe he did have enough money to buy her another roast. But did he have a girlfriend or wife?
“I’ve never seen you around town before. Where did the two of you hook up?”
“The beach,” both Hunter and Tessa said at the same time.
Rourke laughed. “Figures, being he’s a Navy SEAL. Ex–Navy SEAL, rather.”
“That’s what I thought,” Tessa said, under her breath. Having Rourke stay the evening when it was barely afternoon was going to make for an incredibly long day and night. “I suppose I have to feed everyone lunch also.”
“How about tuna fish sandwiches?” Hunter suggested.
Jeez, when did he take an inventory of her food?
“Then you can make a list of all the men who have been in the house over the last few months.”
“You mean Michael’s friends,” she said, spearing Hunter a dark look.
“Any male, Tessa, who has been in the house for the last few months. Deliverymen, repairmen, anyone.”
“Old boyfriends,” she said, sarcastically as she proceeded to the kitchen.
“Yeah, all of those, too.”
“None of them should have had a key to the place.” She yanked two cans of tuna fish out of the cabinet.
The doorbell rang and her heart hitched. Rourke announced, “Sheriff’s here.”
Tessa accidentally dropped the can opener on the kitchen floor and swore under her breath. She’d hoped the bad weather would keep him at bay a while longer.
She hurried into the living room, but Hunter was already nose to nose with the sheriff at the front door.
Chapter 5
HUNTER GLOWERED EVERY BIT AS FEROCIOUSLY AT THE sheriff as he did back, but he couldn’t quit thinking about Tessa and her interview with that jackass reporter. How could Rourke have printed her threat? What an imbecile.
Rourke was pretty rattled—he’d used her interview and now someone had broken into her house. Too late for regrets. The damage was done.
“I’m Sheriff Wellington,” the man said, who looked like an older version of Ashton, same blond hair, only his was graying at the temples, and the same blue eyes. “You’re the one who destroyed my son’s rifle?”
“Ashton must have been mistaken, Sheriff. After he shot me, he was so shaken that he might have killed me, he dropped the rifle over the cliff side. It’s probably still there, if anyone wants to chance climbing down to get it.” Although Hunter had thrown it far enough, the rifle butt cracked on the rocks, and then the weapon flipped into the briny sea.
The sheriff glanced at Tessa with murder in his eyes. Hunter steeled his back, fighting the urge to show the sheriff how much he didn’t like his posturing. But then the sheriff caught sight of Rourke. His gaze quickly shifted to the truck parked out front. Recognition dawning? Yep, reporter here looking for another story.
“He didn’t shoot you.” The sheriff’s voice was so harsh, he sounded like a lupus garou trying to persuade another of his mistake.
Hunter couldn’t help but admire that aspect of him. Definitely alpha material. Hunter reached for his sweatshirt sleeve and intended to yank it up, but the sheriff raised his hand and stopped him.
“All right, let’s say it happened like you said. What were you doing wandering around in the dark?”
Like that was a crime? He wanted to tell the sheriff it was none of his business and would have if he’d been on his own property. But since he didn’t know where his own property was located, he acquiesced.