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fingers. The pad of her thumb rubbed across the smooth metal. She and this stranger were married in every legal sense. How long would they have to keep up this pretense? What would they say to each other, in public and in private?
    She dried her hands, careful not to let the ring slip off. It was loose. She’d have to get it sized. She sank down in a chair and splayed her fingers on the clean white surface of the kitchen table.
    Get it sized? What was she thinking? This was temporary. It wouldn’t be on her finger long enough to matter.
    She looked out the window at the quiet little street where she lived and felt exposed. Nausea burned the back of her throat as she considered that someone might have been watching her, following her for years. Even though Jack had assured her it wasn’t her fault that the stalker had chosen her as his obsession, Holly felt a horrifying responsibility for everything that had happened.
    A car drove by her window, and suddenly, Hollywanted the blinds closed for the first time since she’d lived in the house. She jumped up and reached for the cord. The blinds were as old as the house, so the cord was frayed and tended to stick.
    She tugged and wriggled it, but nothing happened.
    “Here, let me.” Jack’s dark voice was close behind her.
    She jumped. She hadn’t heard him come in.
    “They’re old,” she said inanely, as he reached around her to free the snagged cord.
    Suddenly he froze. He was standing right behind her, his clothes brushing hers, his arm reaching over her shoulder, his breath lifting strands of her hair. It was an incredibly awkward and intimate position.
    And he wasn’t moving. Holly couldn’t move either. The clean soapy smell of him wafted across her nostrils. The just-showered warmth of his body seeped through her clothes, through her skin. He was closer to her than any man had been for a long, long time, stirring yearnings inside her that she’d almost forgotten were there.
    Finally he backed up and lowered his arm carefully, rubbing his shoulder.
    She faced him. “Your shoulder’s bothering you.”
    “It’s tightening up,” he muttered. “I haven’t been able to work out the last couple of days to keep it loose.”
    “Why don’t you let me massage it a little and show you a couple of stretches to help ease the discomfort?” She could deal with a stiff shoulder more easily than with the feel of his hard body against hers.
    “I know the exercises. It’s fine.”
    Holly found herself struggling not to smile. Was he actually anxious to get away from her? “Okay, AgentMacho. But with those muscles all tied up in knots you won’t sleep a wink.”
    He shot her a venomous glare. “That’s Special Agent Macho. And I’ll manage.”
    Her smile widened as he retreated another few steps. So, he had a sense of humor. She took her first good look at him since he’d come back into the room. After his shower he’d pulled on a pair of exercise pants and a clean T-shirt, and he was barefoot.
    Her smile faded. He looked stunningly sexy. His lanky frame was not as bulky as the jacket and jeans had made it appear. Her gaze slid down his body, past his tight, hard abs and muscled thighs to his feet. They were long, bony, masculine feet. Sexy feet. She swallowed.
    “So, would you like coffee? Or some wine?” she croaked.
    Jack was relieved that she’d stopped trying to touch him. His jaw hurt from clenching as he fought to control his body’s reaction to her. He’d already made a mental note to close the blinds, so he’d been only too happy to help her. A stalking victim shouldn’t give the stalker anything to feed his obsession, not even a glimpse inside her house.
    But he shouldn’t have reached around her. First his damn shoulder had caught, then, before he knew it, her firm round backside was pressing against him, and his body was reacting, immediately and strongly.
    In a sense it was gratifying. For the first time since he’d been shot, he’d reacted