50

“I thought it was because I lost a life. I thought if I saved a life, the visions would go away. They didn’t.”

“I’m glad you came for me anyway.” He couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been for her.

She gave a wry smile. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“I’m afraid I might have already.” He watched her. “But thank you. I mean that, Ashley.”

She looked away, then back at him. “I wanted to thank you too, for not giving my paintings to the FBI.”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

“If they had the paintings, they would have said something.”

He hated the agents who kept getting in his way. And he didn’t want them messing with her either.

So he felt protective toward her. So what? She’d saved his life. She deserved something in return.

“Any new urges to paint?” He asked the question to prove to himself that he was here to investigate and not just to see her.

She shook her head as she stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking all alone and vulnerable and completely lost. And completely hot, regar