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in a hotel until she found another rental where they wouldn’t scrutinize her and her background overly much.  
    She stuck her chin out. “I have a valid lease on this place.”
    He shot her a dark glare, then moved stiffly to the couch. Sore right hip, she thought. But even that couldn’t detract from his powerful body. He dropped to the tan cushions and rested his elbows on his knees as he watched her.
    “ I didn't catch your name.”  
    She hadn't given it. “Katherine Concord. Everybody calls me Kate.”
    Exhaustion drew circles under his eyes, which were the color of the finest dark chocolate.
    She could relate to his fatigue. “ Can we talk about this tomorrow? I just pulled a double shift. I’m dead on my feet.”  
    She needed time to think, away from him, needed a chance for her brain to settle and start fully working without a half-naked warrior staring at her. She was way too tired and frazzled to match wits with him tonight. She needed to be on her toes for that, negotiate well and give none of her secrets away.
    He watched her for a long moment. “Fine. Is my pickup still in the garage?”
    The garage held a truck. She’d thought it was Doug’s. She nodded.  
    “ I’ll sleep in the pickup tonight. We’ll figure things out after I have a chance to call my brother in the morning.” Murph stood and headed for his duffel bag, picked it up, but stopped to glance back before opening the door. “Where’s all my stuff?”  
    “ The house came furnished. Doug said it was okay to use the furniture. I just moved things around. I didn’t remove anything.”  
    “ I meant my clothes.”  
    “ There are boxes downstairs. I don’t rent the basement.”  
    His mouth tightened as he put his hand on the doorknob, ready to slog through the snow and sleep in the freezing garage.
    She couldn’t wait to lock the door behind him, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that he was a soldier back from war, injured. He looked too tired to harm her, and she could lock the bedroom door. She had her gun.
    “ Wait,” she called after him as he stepped outside, letting in a blast of cold air. She wrapped her arms around herself. “Why don’t you sleep on the couch?”  
    Establishing some goodwill between them might help her with their negotiations in the morning.
    He stepped back in and closed the door. “Are you sure?”
    “Not really, but I'm going to go with it anyway. I can trust you, right?”
    “ You have my word.” His frank, straight gaze held hers. “I’m an officer of the law here, by the way, when I’m not overseas.”  
    “ I heard you talking with Captain Bing.” She picked up her gun from the counter. “Okay. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Then she turned and hurried back to her room, locked the door and went straight to bed, leaving the loaded weapon within easy reach on the bedside table.  
    A cop-soldier-surprise-landlord. Really? She needed him like she needed a fork in the eye.  
    She had the night to figure out how to get him to let her stay. Between now and morning, she had to come up with a foolproof plan to make him go away.
    * * *
    Kate woke to the sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen and had her gun in hand by the time she remembered the man she was suddenly sharing a house with. She set the weapon onto the nightstand, dropped back onto her pillow, closed her eyes and allowed herself a heartfelt groan.
    Murphy Dolan.  
    He was a local police officer returning from the Army Reserves to kick her out on the street. Great. Just her luck. Because being hunted by a hit man wasn’t stressful enough.  
    She looked up at the ceiling. The only people she liked less than social workers were police officers. She hadn’t trusted them as a kid, and she didn’t trust them now. They’d never protected her.  
    Back when she’d lived with her birth mother, if the neighbors had heard screams or seen her beaten up, they called the cops. The cops called the social workers