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half-conscious, she seemed determined to get back in that house. I suggest you don’t let her out of your sight.”
    Cal smiled, waiting until the man disappeared into the main office before pushing the door open. The room swung into view, revealing beige walls, an oversized mirror and a single cot pressed against the far wall. But it wasn’t the lack of furnishings that held his attention. It was her. All five-foot-five, long blonde hair and strong, athletic inch of her. She was lying on the thin mattress, one arm tucked under her head as her chest rose and fell gently with every breath. A small bandage graced one side of her forehead, the white color bright against the slight bronze of her skin. Her hair fell in a curtain of gold around her shoulders, much longer than he remembered. And her jeans hugged her curves as if they’d been painted on her skin.
    He took a deep breath, cursing the hint of floral sweetness that tantalized his senses. It was the same perfume she’d worn the last time he’d seen her, and the memory dampened some of his enthusiasm. He’d left without so much as a proper goodbye. But knowing he’d let her down—lost the only person who’d really meant anything to her—had been more than he’d been able to bear.
    Cal glanced back at the door. Something Brandon had said tweaked another memory. That she’d been off when they’d dragged her in here. He seemed to recall Avery saying the same thing about Dave that night just before all hell had broken loose, and the man had willingly jumped out the window.
    He sighed, pushing the painful images aside as he made his way over to the cot, wondering what she’d gotten herself into this time. He’d heard she had a bad habit of getting into trouble over the past several years, her curiosity outweighing her good sense more often than not. But then she probably wouldn’t be as successful as she was if she’d never broken a few rules. The thought made him smile. She’d always been a feisty brat—part of the reason he’d fallen so hard for her—and he was glad she hadn’t lost that spark, even if he didn’t know why she’d been mumbling his name after all this time. Though he’d only be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t happy to see her again.
    A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. God, she was just as beautiful. Maybe more so than before. Ten years had done nothing to temper the easy symmetry of her face or mar the smooth perfection of her skin. If anything, she’d come into her beauty. There was an air about her, even sleeping, that spoke of confidence. And if there was any truth to the stories he’d read about her, she had plenty of reason to be confident. Successful ghost hunter. Owner and chief investigator of Witching Hour Investigations, she’d come a long way in a field that had just recently acquired scientific acceptance, even if that acceptance was still sketchy. But either way, she wasn’t the awkward girl he’d lost his heart to.
    The truth hit him hard, and he clenched his jaw. That was ancient history. He’d given up any hope of gaining her affection when he’d taken off, leaving her when he knew she’d needed him most. But Dave’s last words had played over in his head. And despite the fact he wanted to believe the entity at the house had put those words in Dave’s mouth, he couldn’t shake the fact that he simply wasn’t good enough for her.
    Jordan moaned, rolling her head as she shifted on the bed. He inched closer, lowering himself to the edge of the cot, careful not to move her as the crappy mattress gave beneath his weight. She exhaled and shifted her legs, brushing one across his side. The innocent contact sent a spark of heat surging through his veins, and he had to fist his hands in his lap to keep from drawing them through her hair. Seeing if it felt as silky as it looked.
    God, how many times had he dreamed of touching her? Of giving into the rush of emotions he’d had for longer than he’d care to