“And tell them what? That I left the door unlocked? That I think someone was in here, but nothing is missing or out of place, that someone has been calling and hanging up? What could they possibly do?”

“Stake out the place?”

“On what? Your hunch? Just because I got a letter from Isaac Wells?”

“Yes.”

She almost laughed. “Even in a small town like Bittersweet, the police have better things to do.”

Scowling, he paced to the front window and stared through the plate glass to the yard. Even with the glow of the streetlamp at the corner, it was dark. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

“Sure, there is,” he said, slowly turning to face her. “I can stay here.”

“What?” Was he out of his mind? “Here? No way.” She couldn’t believe her ears. Although a secret little part of her was pleased, the other saner, more rational side of her nature was scared to death.

“On the couch.”

“I don’t want a bodyguard!” she snapped, throwing up a hand. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. It’s . . . it’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t think so.” He was firm, his jaw set, his gaze steady. He looked like a man who wouldn’t be swayed. But the thought of him in the house alone with her, even on the couch, was unnerving. “I’ll be fine. Blue’s here with me.”

“What if the guy has a key?”

“A key? Wait a minute. I don’t think there is a guy, and if there was, why would he have a key to my house?”

“Don’t you have one hidden outside for Josh?”

“Yes, but—” She felt the color drain from her face. Was it possible? “You’re spooking me, Gates.”

“Just trying to get you to see the possibilities.”

She went to the back porch, skimmed her fingers over the ledge above the door and found the key. “Still here,” she said, holding it up for Luke’s inspection. The metal glinted in the glare of the single bulb burning over the door.

“Good. Bring it inside.”

“No one was here,” she insisted as she tossed the key into a kitchen drawer and met him in the archway to the living room. “You’re borrowing trouble.”

“Maybe.”

“You can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

A million reasons. I can’t trust myself around you. I don’t know you. Having you in my house is more emotionally dangerous than anything. “I hardly know you.”

As if he could read her mind, he grinned—a wide, sexy smile that did considerable damage to her self-control. “Maybe this is a way to get to know me better.”

“I’m not sure I want to.”

His eyes said he didn’t believe her. “I’ll stay on the couch. Believe me, your virtue is safe with me.”