“Sara? What’s the matter?”

“I . . .” She stood there, not sure what to say, how to explain.

“Are you cold? I got out a dry shirt for you. I left it next to your purse. I’ll go get it for you.” He was starting to pull himself to a sitting position, exposing his boxer shorts.

“No, I’m not cold, don’t get up.” Sara was embarrassed by her behavior, by his solicitude. “I was just going to the bathroom and I saw you, and I thought . . . you looked . . .” She felt herself blushing. “I thought you were dead. I was just checking to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh.” His brow furrowed.

Sara stood there, feeling like an idiot.

“Well, I’m okay. Not dead, I promise.” He smiled at her, propped up on his elbow.

“I can see that.” And she was mortified. Yet still afraid. It had been so easy to picture the blood, picture the cuts and lacerations, his still gaze. What did that say about her? “I’m sorry I fell asleep on your couch. I’m not sure what happened. I should go home.”

“Right now?” Gabriel frowned. “Absolutely not. You’re not walking to your car and driving all the way to Kenner. Just sleep here.” He patted the bed next to him. “Come on. Just lay down and we’ll go back to sleep.”

In his bed? That seemed like such a bad idea. Yet so damn tempting. She stood there, indecisive. “I left the kitten on the couch.”

“She’ll be fine there. Come on.” He pulled the sheet back so she could get in. “I can see your fear, Sara. It’s okay to be afraid of the dark after what you’ve been through.”

That kicked her in the gut, made her want to burst into tears. How could he see so clearly what she tried so hard to hide? She was afraid of the dark. Afraid of the unknown, the shadow around every corner, the future. So she kicked off her sandals and climbed onto the bed with Gabriel. She didn’t want to be alone all the time. Her head sank back onto the pillow as he pulled the sheet up over her. The bed was warm from his body heat, and soft. The pillow felt like down. And Gabriel was very masculine next to her, his body close, but not touching.

She stared at the ceiling, not wanting to look at him. Normally she slept on her side, but she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of facing him on the bed. That would be too intimate. But alternatively, turning her back on him seemed rude. So she lay there, eyes wide open, trying to slow her breathing, trying to reach for sleep, knowing it wouldn’t come.

“Relax, Sara,” Gabriel murmured to her. His hand slid into hers and squeezed before letting go. “It’s okay.”