Perfect Fling by Carly Phillips

especially now that the morning sickness had begun to subside, just as the doctor promised, around fourteen weeks into her pregnancy. To make matters worse, her sexual desire returned full force, although she could also attribute that to Cole’s invasion into her life. At first, she’d been in too much pain from being shot to think much about sex. Then she’d been too shaken up to focus on anything beyond one day at a time. But slowly, life had returned to normal . . . except for Cole living in her home.
    And her mind consistently rewound to the day she’d panicked at work—and his immediate reaction. Not only had he been aware of her emotions but his reaction had gone over and above what a bodyguard would—or should—do. There were other ways he could have taken care of her dizziness and panic, starting with sitting her on a chair and placing her head between her knees. Instead he’d pulled her onto his lap, cradling her in his warm body and protecting her with every breath he took.
    His gentleness did more to affect her than his potent arousal, and she’d felt the swell of his erection pressing against her core. Nothing had been the same for her since, not with her hormones so crazy, her emotions all over the place, and desire raging like a furnace inside her. So it was no surprise that she tossed and turned in her bed, unable to fall asleep—and when she did, panicked dreams took hold.
    She went to the mall, where someone was stalking her, so she ran to her car and nearly missed being shot at again. She drove to the police station, but even there, someone was firing a gun at her in the parking lot.
She woke up with a scream, bolting upright in bed, her heart pounding as she looked around the darkened room.
    Without warning, the lights switched on and Cole burst in, gun drawn, which only caused her to choke out another shriek.
    He lowered the weapon immediately. “Easy,” he said, placing the gun on the dresser across from her.
    She managed a nod.
    “You okay?” he asked, coming up to the side of the bed.
    “Yeah,” she whispered, once again feeling ridiculous for overreacting. “I had a nightmare.” Goose bumps raised on her arms as she trembled with the aftereffects of the dream.
    He sat on the edge of the bed, and Erin suddenly realized he wore a pair of tight boxer briefs . . . and nothing more. It took everything she had to keep her gaze above his waist, where the dark strip of hair trailed below the waistband. She flicked her stare to his chest, but his bulk and muscles didn’t help either, so she looked at his face. Concern etched his handsome features.
    “Want to talk about it?” he asked.
    She managed a nod. “Everywhere I went, someone was after me. I couldn’t escape the gunshots or this stalker. I know it wasn’t real, but I felt like I was being hunted,” she said, mortified when a tear fell.
    He leaned in and brushed at the moisture with his thumb. “Maybe you should talk to a professional,” he suggested.
    She shook her head. “No. It’s stupid and it’ll go away. Nobody’s after me anyway. I still think the shooting was random, but until the police call it closed and you don’t need to guard me anymore, I’ll continue feeling on edge.” But believing she hadn’t been targeted and feeling safe warred in her mind, still heavy with the remnants of the dream.
    She shivered and curled deeper under the comforter, not wanting to be by herself again, not knowing how to ask him to stay. She was feeling too vulnerable, and if he said no, she might embarrass herself and burst into tears.
    She took in a deep breath, letting it out with a small shudder. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she felt that strong touch deep inside her.
    She turned and looked up at him, drawing on courage she didn’t realize she had. “Please stay.”
    He sucked in a surprise breath. Erin held hers but she refused to take the words back. From the moment she found out she was pregnant, she’d been