3

Chloe slumped onto the couch, too tired to even turn on the TV. Who knew minding two toddlers could be so exhausting? A busy Saturday night at Oliver’s seemed far easier to manage than motherhood.

At least it kept her from obsessing about her train-wreck of a life. Chloe’s eyes drifted closed until her cellphone rang. Groaning, she fished it out of her pocket.

“Just when are you planning to come by? I had to hear from Aidan that you’re in town.”

“Maxi. Hi.” A wave of guilt swept over her. “I’ve been meaning to call, but watching those two munchkins is taking every ounce of energy.”

The laughter on the other end made Chloe feel better. Maxi would never hold a grudge.

“I know how busy kids can keep you. How’s Lily?”

“Going stir crazy. But her blood pressure’s down, so the bed rest is working.”

“I’m glad. Hey, can you come for dinner tomorrow? I’m dying for you to meet the new love of my life.”

Chloe chuckled at Maxi’s smitten tone. “I’d love to. Nick’s usually home by five.”

“See you around six then?”

“Sure. Can I bring anything?”

“Just your adorable self. See you tomorrow.”

Chloe tossed the phone onto the coffee table and lay back. A hot bath sounded like heaven. If only she had a maid to fill the tub. She stayed there, hovering in the delicious state between sleep and wakefulness, until a loud clap of thunder shook the room, jolting Chloe back to full consciousness. Shivering, she reached over to turn on a lamp. When had it started to storm?

The lights flickered for a second, and Chloe shot to her feet. A cold sweat broke out over her whole body. Please don’t let the power go out.

She’d always been terrified of the dark, a fear that magnified during thunderstorms. And lately she’d been experiencing an escalation in anxiety attacks. Richard used to help her manage the symptoms, holding her until she calmed down. Now she was on her own.

“Nick must keep candles around here somewhere.” It helped to talk out loud, as though someone else was in the apartment.

She yanked out every drawer and searched the cupboards. Not a candle, not a match. Not even a flashlight. Maybe she should go to bed. That way if the power went out, she’d be asleep and wouldn’t even notice.

Another clap of thunder exploded.

Chloe shrieked. Before she could reach her cellphone, the lights flickered again. She held her breath. Stay on, stay on. Please stay on.

Everything went black and an incredible stillness descended. The whir of electronics ceased, leaving her in deathly silence.

Chloe stood rigid, perspiration snaking down her back. The light from her phone became her beacon of hope. She pounced, clutching it to her chest, and took deep, even breaths to ward off the anxiety. Why couldn’t she conquer her fear? Her baby nieces were probably braver than this.

She punched in Nick’s number, but after two rings, she disconnected. He had his hands full with Lily and the girls. If he heard the panic in her voice, he’d feel obliged to come over.

No, she’d handle this on her own—somehow.

Chloe couldn’t dispel her rising apprehension. She had to get some light, or she’d have a full-blown meltdown. Maybe Aidan had some spare candles.

The glow from her phone did little to penetrate the inkiness of the staircase. She slid her foot out until she came to the first step. Holding tight to the railing, she inched her way down, one stair at a time. Only her labored breathing broke the eerie silence.

The hallway below seemed even darker. She was nearing the bottom, when something furry brushed by her bare foot. She screamed and flailed both hands. Her phone launched into the air as she landed on the floor with a crash. White-hot fire shot through her shoulder and hip.

Seconds later, the clatter of footsteps registered through the haze of pain.

“Chloe, is that you?” Aidan’s deep voice echoed in the space.

“Aidan.” Relief spilled through her. “I’m by the stairs.”

His flickering candle cast grotesque shadows on the walls.

“What happened? You didn’t fall all the way down, did you?”

“Just the last step or two. Can you help me up?”

“Not yet.” He set the holder on the ground. “We need to make sure nothing’s broken.”

The grip of fear eased. She wasn’t alone, and the small flame broke the overpowering darkness.

Warm hands moved swiftly over her legs and arms. Somehow in the dark, the process seemed incredibly intimate. He moved to her head and neck, but when he touched her right shoulder, searing heat forced a gasp from her throat.

“Sorry. Bear with me a minute more.” He finished his assessment, and then before she could protest, lifted her into his arms.

When he stepped away from the candle, she immediately stiffened.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No.” She closed her eyes to pretend the darkness didn’t exist and lowered her head to his shoulder. When she opened her eyes, she found they had entered his apartment. Several candles burned on various tables, bathing the room in a soothing glow.

Aidan placed her on the couch. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He reappeared soon after with the candle and her phone. “Why were you on the stairs in the dark?”

“I was coming to see if you had any spare candles. Then something furry ran over my foot on the way down.” She shuddered. “I think it was a big rat.”

Aidan laughed out loud.

She bristled. “I don’t see how this is funny.”

“It wasn’t a rat,” he said. “It was my cat, Leo. He gets crazy when there’s a storm. I was trying to get him to come inside, but he bolted upstairs instead.”

“Oh.” She was relieved to know the building wasn’t infested with rodents.

“I’m sorry if Leo caused your fall. Let me get you some ice.” He returned with an ice pack, placed it on her shoulder, and then sat down beside her. “You sure you’re not hurt anywhere else?”

The spicy scent of his aftershave filled her senses. “I’ll be fine. I’m always hurting something. Truth is I’m a bit of a klutz.”

His gaze met hers. “So how does a klutz become a chef without losing fingers?” He lifted one of her hands in an exaggerated examination.

The warmth of his fingers sent tingles of awareness up her arm. She pulled her hand away in the pretense of securing the ice pack. “I’m not clumsy in the kitchen. Never lost a vegetable.”

He grinned. The flicker from one of the candles reflected in his eyes, almost hypnotizing her.

She lowered her gaze. The intimate setting suddenly seemed far too romantic. She needed to put some distance between her and the compelling Aidan North. “If I could borrow a candle or a flashlight, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

He smiled. “You do have a way of crashing in on me.”

Thunder boomed again.

Chloe yelped and clutched Aidan’s arm. The ice pack slipped off her shoulder and disappeared into the cushions of the couch. “Sorry. I have a thing about storms…and the dark.”

Aidan didn’t make fun of her fears. Instead he covered her hand. “Then you’ll get along fine with Leo. Although he doesn’t seem to mind the dark.” He pulled her wrist up.

For a split second, she thought he intended to kiss her hand.

He frowned. “What happened here?”

“Nothing. Cooks get burns all the time.”

“I thought you said you weren’t clumsy in the kitchen.”

“I’m not.” Only when someone shoves me into a hot stove. She jerked to her feet, tugging her sleeves down. “Could I have that candle now, please?”

****

Aidan rose. If he weren’t so used to dealing with fibbing teens, he wouldn’t have known she was lying. But why would she lie about a burn? “What really happened, Chloe?”

Her chin quivered. “Nothing I want to talk about.”

Had someone hurt her? His protective instincts roared to life.

“Talking about a problem usually helps. The incident loses its power once it’s out in the open.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Let’s just say I didn’t leave my old job on the best of terms.”

“Why? What happened?”

He shoved his hands into his pant pockets. “Long story.”

“Tell you what. When you’re ready to spill your secrets, I’ll spill mine.”

She had him there. Why should she bare her soul to him when he wasn’t willing to do the same? “Message received. I’ll mind my own business.”

With the candlelight dancing over her, she looked like a fairy tale princess—a lovely damsel in distress. That was exactly how his problems started in Arizona, trying to help a student in trouble.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room.

He needed to stay far, far away from women needing rescue. Especially beautiful ones who dulled his senses. He handed her a candle. “Here. Take this. I’ll get you a couple of spares in case this one burns down.” He strode into the kitchen, pulled out a box of utility candles and a pack of matches. “There you go. These should last for a few storms.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome.” He avoided looking into those mesmerizing eyes, picked up another candleholder, and motioned to the door. “Come on. I’ll walk you up.”