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her voice when she mentioned Malcolm’s name made Jake tense, but he managed to keep his voice calm. “He didn’t hit you, did he?”
    “…no he didn’t.”
    Ah, but he did something, Jake thought. Something that couldn’t be easily mended like a broken bone. The bastard. He’d get his. Jake would make sure of it.
    Something between them changed. For a minute he thought it was his hormones and being without a woman for so long that gave him the mixed signal, but then he noticed a subtle difference in her touch. The way her hand slid up his arm, the caress of her thumb along the junction between his shoulder and neck. Her lips brushed his cheek. Her breath lightly fanned his skin in little puffs.
    Closing his eyes, he drank in her scent, roses and another illusive fragrance he found dark and erotic.
    “Kiss me.” Her words whispered against his senses and flamed a hunger he rigidly kept in check.
    He wanted to kiss her. He was going to kiss her.
    Jake stiffened. He couldn’t go there. Alcohol had to be fueling her to say and do things she normally wouldn’t. Jake pushed her away, almost stumbling back in his hurry to escape the light and her gaze. She thought he’d rejected her. He could see it in her face.
    “It’s not you. Don’t think that. Don’t ever think that.”
    Margot watched him rush from the room. She backed up against the desk and gripped its edge to steady legs that threatened to melt from under her. She might not have been able to see his eyes or their expression, but she’d heard the desperation and despair in his voice. For a moment, he’d made her feel wanted, made her want to believe in something.
    The minute she walked out into the hall, she knew he’d left the house. The place felt empty. She’d completely lost track of time, but it didn’t really matter. She was exhausted, tired enough to fall asleep without the help of alcohol.
    In her bedroom, she stripped and stared at her naked reflection in the dresser mirror. The lamp was kind, adding a smooth, even a satiny texture to her skin. A vision flashed in her mind’s eyes, of Jake behind her cupping her breasts, bending her forward, holding her steady...
    Sighing, she turned away from the mirror, but she couldn’t so easily turn away from the sexual hunger burning into her skin.
    Having a viral man in the same house with her was exacerbating the longing inside of her. She slipped on her nightgown and crawled under the covers. For the first time in a long while, the craving for alcohol had vanished. But in its place was something far worse. A craving for a man, not just in her bed, but in her life.
    Closing her eyes, she let sleep pull her under.
    The scream slapped her awake. She jackknifed up in the bed. Blood pounded in her ears as she sat and listened to the silence.
    Then she realized that this time the cry hadn’t come from outside but downstairs. She scrambled from the bed and hit the cold wood floor running, almost banging into the side of her bedroom door on the way out. The night was black, illuminating nothing. With questing, outstretched hands, she found the stair’s handrail and fumbled down the steps. Breathing deeply, she rounded the stair post and slammed into something warm and very human.
    She opened her mouth to scream.
    “It’s me, Jake,” he said from the darkness, holding onto her arms to steady her.
    She let out a long, shaky breath. “What was that?” she asked in a hushed voice. “You must have heard it. It sounded so awful.”
    “It was your cat.”
    “Marmaduke?”
    “Yeah.”
    “But I could have sworn it sounded more human than—”

    “I stepped on his tail.” He cleared his throat. “Scared the hell out of both of us. He took off somewhere. Sorry about getting you out of bed.”
    “I’m just glad I found out what it was. But what are you doing up?”
    “I couldn’t sleep.”
    Relaxing, she glanced up, only to be blinded by the night. Thick, black and total, it draped over Jake and