Halfway there, the feeling hit. The feeling as if someone was watching her. She slowed her pace and listened. The night was still chirping, there was no dead or unnatural silence, but she still felt it. Glancing from right to left to the edges of the woods, she checked to see if the wolf was back.

There were no golden eyes peering back at her from the brush. She tried to convince herself it was nothing, but she picked up her pace, eager to find Derek-eager to have Derek's solid, bigger frame beside her. His arms around her.

Her head on his shoulder.

Maybe his mouth melting against hers.

Oh yeah, thinking about Derek chased away her fears.

She made that last turn down the trail and saw there were lights on in his cabin. Someone was there. "Please let it be him."

She made it another hundred feet when she noticed that his cabin's front door was open. That was a little odd. When she got up the porch steps, she noted the smell. The ripe berry scent. She hadn't yet defined the aroma when her tennis shoe hit a slick spot and she went down.

Plopping down on her butt, she pressed her palm against the porch to lift up. But the sensation of something wet and thick beneath her palm gave her pause.

That's when she recognized the sweet berry scent.

Blood.

Her gaze shot to the porch.

A lot of blood.

The rectangle of light pouring from the doorway caught her attention and Kylie saw it. Dark red droplets led the way into the cabin like breadcrumbs in the forest.

Her heart stopped.

Oh, God. "Derek!" she screamed his name, but no answer bounced back.

She lunged to her feet and ran into the cabin, screaming his name over and over.

Chapter Fourteen

"Derek?" Her heart pounded. She followed the trail of blood, through the living room, down the hall. It led to a closed door. She grabbed the knob. Locked.

She heard a noise on the other side. "Derek?" she yelled. Again no answer.

Not thinking, driven by raw panic, she took a couple of steps back and rammed the door with her shoulder. Part of the door ripped off with the hinges; the other part splintered into two or three pieces and crashed on the bathroom floor. She crashed on top of it. Facedown.

That's when she realized the noise she'd heard behind the closed door had been the shower. That's when she saw a very naked and very wet Derek yank back the shower curtain.

His body was hard, corded with muscle. Defensiveness glinted in his eyes and his posture. He looked prepared to take on an intruder. Which would be her, by the way.

He stared at her sprawled on top of the splintered piece of his bathroom door. She stared at him ... naked with the shower curtain still clutched in his fist.

"Uh, I ... I saw blood and thought..." What had she thought? Rogue vampire, ax murderer, serial killer on the loose. She hadn't put a villain in her fears. Her concern had just been for Derek's safety.

"You knocked the door down." Disbelief rang in his matter-of-fact tone.

"I know," she answered, unable to say anything else. Unable to look away from his body.

"But it's solid oak."

"I know." She felt the solid oak beneath her and was a little shocked that she'd done it, too. If it mattered at all, her shoulder felt a little bruised. And it was the slight pain that brought some reality back into the moment.

"You don't have any clothes on." Oh, God, did she really say that?

"I know. I usually shower that way."

Her face began to burn.

When he didn't seem to worry about his lack of clothes, Kylie decided that maybe it was her place to worry. After all, she had been the one to storm into his bathroom and break down his door while he'd been showering.

She turned her back on him. A totally useless, unproductive move. It didn't stop her from seeing him. The mirror hung over the low counter, which she now faced, offered her the same view.

A really awesome view, too. She'd seen naked men in the movies.

Well, almost naked. And she'd seen naked statues. Beautifully posed, carved-in-stone statues that left nothing to the imagination. In person was definitely better. Oh, goodness, he looked good wet and without his clothes on.

Then she realized that while she'd been enjoying the view, he'd been watching her enjoying it. His gaze from the mirror locked with hers. That rush of blood returned to her face. She glanced away from his reflection in the mirror to her shoes just as he grabbed for a towel.

That's when she decided to explain again. "I ... I saw blood and I panicked."

"Yeah," he answered. "Chris gave me a bloody nose when he elbowed me in the face playing basketball."

She looked up to the mirror to check out his face. "How bad was it?"

"Just a bloody nose." Holding the towel around his waist, he reached for his jeans on the floor, and then he met her gaze back in the mirror.

"I'm gonna put on some pants. So you might want to look down again."

She did, and she blushed again, too. Only when she heard the zipper did she look up. He stood closer, right over her in fact, holding out his hand to help her up. She took it.

"Are you okay?" he asked as soon as she came to her feet. She rubbed her shoulder. "Just a little bruised."

"I would imagine."

She saw him look back at the door. "I'll tell Holiday I did it," she said. "It's okay." He picked up a piece of the wood and tried to bend it. When it didn't move, he looked back at her. Then he reached out and touched her arm and his touch shifted slowly up to her elbow.