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up until the trial is over. Why can’t the police officers babysit me here?”
    Harte stood too. He reached around her to set his mug down, and immediately regretted it. It put his nose way too close to her hair, which smelled like strawberries and sunshine. He backed up. “You know the answer to that,” he said, his voice a bit husky from reaction.
    “They know where I live,” Dani responded, hoping the flutter in her pulse wasn’t evident in her voice. Thank goodness he’d backed away. He’d been way too close to her as he set his mug in the sink. His arm brushing hers along with his warm breath against her hair had sent a thrill through her, a thrill she didn’t welcome. She thought she’d gotten over this little crush, or whatever it was. After all, even though she’d been wildly attracted to him from the first moment she’d met him as opposing counsel, she’d quickly seen how pompous and arrogant he was, with his custom suits and his designer briefcase.
    She turned toward him, forcing her mind back to the problem at hand. “How long do I have to get ready?”
    “Go pack. I’ll wash the mugs and the coffeepot. You can call the newspaper and the post office from the B-and-B.”
    “This is so inconvenient,” she whined as she turned on her heel.
    “Not as inconvenient as getting yourself killed,” Harte shot after her.
    * * *
    T WO HOURS LATER Dani pulled the crisscross strap of her purse off over her head and tossed it onto the white bedspread patterned with roses and lovebirds as Harte rolled her suitcase into the room. The entire bedroom was decorated in cluttered Victorian, just like the living room she’d just walked through. Frilly, lacy white curtains graced the windows, and every surface was covered with doilies, vases of silk flowers and filigreed photo frames.
    The room was much too girlie for her taste. It was beautiful and she certainly appreciated pretty feminine things, but she limited the lace and frills to her underwear. She preferred her clothes tailored and her furnishings and décor sparse and open.
    “Ugh,” she groaned.
    “What?” Harte said. “Is something wrong?”
    She swept the air with her hand. “You tell me. Do I look like the type who would live among roses and lace?” She winced as she remembered the pink lacy panties and bra she’d donned this morning.
    His gaze sharpened as if he were activating X-ray vision.
    “That was a rhetorical question,” she said archly. “Why am I on the first floor? Wouldn’t I be harder to get to upstairs?”
    Harte was still looking at her.
    “That one wasn’t rhetorical,” she said.
    He blinked and met her gaze. “Yeah, you’d be harder to get to, but also harder to get out. I don’t want you stuck with no means of escape.”
    She frowned. “Means of escape? Really? I thought the reason you brought me here was so they won’t know where I am.”
    He nodded. “That’s true. But it’s possible that someone could follow me or the police officers.”
    She knew she had to have a police babysitter, but him? “You?”
    “I’ve got to prep you for your testimony. And since we’re paying for this lovely place, we might as well use it. Besides, I don’t want you traveling back and forth to my office—or my home.” His mouth curved up in a quick, crooked smile, different from the knowing smirk he usually sent her way. It was a little comical and very charming.
    Charming? Where had that come from? Dani shook her head.
    “What?” Harte asked.
    “What?” she retorted.
    “You were shaking your head.”
    “No, I wasn’t,” she muttered as she grabbed her suitcase and hefted it up onto the cedar chest that sat at the foot of the bed. “I guess I’ve got to unpack.”
    “I guess you do, if you’ve finally accepted that you’re stuck here. I can promise you that a knight in shining armor is not going to sweep in and save you from protective custody.”
    “A girl can dream,” she said on a sigh as she unzipped the case.