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  After Monarch came back to reality she realized they were now sitting on the bed, with her in Corbin’s lap as he held her. She felt awkward as she pulled her now swollen face from his chest. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…uh, lost it like that.”

  “Don’t sweat it. You just went through something most people never do and came up swingin’.”

  Corbin’s voice soothed her. She had no business feeling this way but couldn’t bring herself to care. A horrific experience had a way of putting things into perspective. She didn’t want to be alone and she wasn’t. That was enough.

  Let yourself off the hook.

  Monarch tilted her head back and looked at Corbin. “You saved me.”

  Corbin looked at her swollen, bloody lip, his face hardening. “You saved me right back. And I should’ve made sure that bastard was dead yesterday. My fault.”

  At the mention of the dead man, Monarch looked down at the body.

  Post-apocalyptic life really sucked.

  ****

  Hours later, as dawn’s light was just beginning to leak into the horizon, Monarch finally lay back down. Corbin did most of the dirty work, disposing of the body and cleaning the blood while Monarch bathed and didn’t have to see it. She then re-stitched his wound, which had opened somewhat during his fight with Byron. She also treated the new gash on the back of his head, the result of Byron’s unsuccessful attempt to knock Corbin out. Then it was his turn to bathe. They did all of it in silence, not talking about the man who broke in and attacked them. And Corbin didn’t bring up her deception with the gun. She guessed he felt there was no need and by now he was as exhausted as she.

  Monarch laid there in the darkness, no longer feeling safe in the king sized bed. When she closed her eyes images of Byron’s assault flashed through her mind.

  Damn him!

  That vile bastard seemed to still be in the room with her. She sat up, thinking of the beckoning warmth of the living room just feet away, of the fire that Corbin had going, of the couch, of him. For reasons she didn’t even want to explore, Monarch longed to go to him, to have him hold her again as he had earlier. It made no sense, did it? After all, just the night before he broke into the house and attacked her.

  Or had he? Yes, he broke in and scared the absolute shit out of her. But he hadn’t hurt her. He was gruff and unapologetic but he hadn’t assaulted her. Corbin was wounded and desperate and perhaps he had acted as any wounded, desperate man would.

  And tonight, he had helped her. There were a lot of men that would have turned and run, not risking their own safety to keep her from being raped. Corbin hadn’t run.

  Without allowing herself to think on it further, she crept into the living room, on socked feet, wearing only a knee length sleep shirt. Corbin was lying on his side on the couch, wearing a camouflage t-shirt and black sweat pants borrowed from the master closet. His face was clearly illuminated in the firelight, his blue eyes wide open.

  She stood there for several seconds just watching him, feeling awkward and weak. He met her gaze and without a word scooted backward on the couch, allowing her room to lay next to him. Monarch laid down, her back to his front, shivering. Corbin pulled the blanket from the back of the couch over them both and then brought his thick arm around her and held her close.

  A tear trekked down her cheek as she whispered, “I murdered a man tonight.”

  “It was him or you. So there was really no choice at all. Don’t punish yourself for that,” came the reply, a husky whisper against her ear.

  “I’m glad you didn’t die in the crash. And that you found this house before he did.”

  Corbin’s chuckle lacked mirth. “Me too.”

  He was so warm against her back, his muscular chest making her long to turn and nuzzle her face against it. It was insanity but she couldn’t help the sensations that flooded her, feeling natural. So long she’d gone without any human contact. Now here a human was, offering her comfort. And it didn’t help that this human was a male, and hot as hell. In her vulnerable state it took everything she had not to offer herself to him, to turn and beg him to make her forget every awful second of the past several months.

  But her rational brain prevailed. The part of her that reminded her this man was a stranger and a criminal. Just because Byron was evil didn’t make Corbin a saint. And Monarch was a good girl. At twenty-five she could count her lovers on one hand, with a couple fingers left over. She would regret it come morning. So she did nothing.

  Except maybe she scooted a little closer to Corbin. Corbin let her, his grasp holding her a little tighter.

  Chapter 4

  Four days had passed since the Byron incident. Monarch started to feel normal again. Well, as normal as one could feel under the circumstances, and with an altogether too-sexy roommate who made her nervous.

  For the most part, they avoided each other since that night he held her on the couch. Monarch made herself scarce during the days, washing clothes outside or running to the corner store just to give herself something to do. She was pretty well stocked up at this point but she invented things she needed and browsed the store shelves carefully.

  Today it was the small wine section she perused at length, selecting a few bottles of the most expensive cabernet. Dinner was the one time that she and Corbin spent together. And they always drank wine.

  They would talk a little. Well, mostly she talked and he listened, she told stupid stories from childhood or discussed her favorite movies. The conversation was kept safe, never anything inappropriate, though at this point Monarch feared her feelings were very inappropriate.

  Just last evening she watched every move he made from beneath her lashes, obsessing over the way his muscles flexed. While she did it, Monarch reminded herself that she most certainly did not want to sleep with a criminal who had done God knows what in his former life. And one who would disappear from her life in a few days time.

  Already he walked with only a slight limp and his wound looked much better. Monarch estimated that the stitches could come out in another few days. Soon he would be able to walk long distances. He would be able to fix her car so she could leave.

  Which is what I want.

  She really did want that. She needed to get to a safe place where there was a small measure of infrastructure, where there was a possibility of reuniting with her family. But a small part of her wanted to stay here, with Corbin, not think about the future, and eat canned meats next to a fire while staring at a man who made her mouth water.

  She was no longer afraid of him, at least not the way she had been that first day. She no longer worried he would murder her or make her do something against her will. That was the problem. If he made one sexual advance toward her, Monarch was afraid she would be all too willing.

  She couldn’t shake that thought as she cut across the wooded area toward the house. The backpack, wine bottles clanking inside, felt like lead. She just needed to get inside and drown her sorrows in some wine. Hell, maybe she’d even get drunk for the first time in months.

  I’ve earned it.

  Monarch trotted up the porch steps, pausing as she reached the top. There was…sound coming from the living room. But not a bad sound at all. No. It was something wonderful, something she hadn’t heard in months.

  Music.

  Shocked, she shot through the front door to investigate the source. Aerosmith was currently belting out one of their hits from a small stereo sitting on the coffee table. Obviously, Corbin had thoroughly searched the closets, probably bored out of his mind. He’d stumbled upon pure gold.

  How had she missed this on her initial search of the house? With a few batteries and a CD collection, this machine was the greatest thing since sliced bread. If only she could have some fresh bread to go with it she might just die right here tonight, a happy woman.

  Monarch set the backpack down and danced around the living room for a moment, smiling like an idiot, imitating Steven Tyler as she sang along. Then she turned to find C
orbin so she could compliment him on the awesome discovery. “Corbin! This is the best thing ever!”

  Silence.

  “Corbin?” Monarch walked from room to room looking for him. “The stereo is bad ass!”

  Nothing. He was nowhere to be found in the house.

  Where could he be? After several minutes of searching the house and the grounds, including the tool shed which seemed to be his favorite place, Monarch felt dread pool in her stomach.

  He was gone.

  Had he decided he was well enough and split? Where would he have gone to?

  Regardless of the questions, she knew a few things to be true: he hadn’t fixed her car, she’d probably never get to Austin, and she’d never felt lonelier in her life. She’d become attached to the jerk.

  Tears stung her eyes as she walked back into the living room and sat down, the sad sounds of an Aerosmith ballad now greeting her. Maybe Corbin left the stereo as a parting gift.

  Damn him to hell!

  A sob escaped her lips.

  “What the hell’s the matter?”

  Monarch whirled around at Corbin’s voice from the doorway, not having heard his approach over the loud music. He wasn’t gone!

  “I thought you left!” she squeaked.

  How mortifying. I’ve survived the apocalypse just so I can make a jackass out of myself over a man.

  “I went down to where you told me your car was to take a look under the hood. Probably shouldn’t have walked that far yet but I’m bored to tears.” Corbin set down the tool box he was holding, removed his jacket, and limped into the room to take a seat in the chair. “The good news is I think your car problem is just a clogged fuel filter. Easy fix once we get another filter. Even without one I can probably clean it out well enough.”

  Monarch just stared at him, too stupefied to speak. Her brain was busy hitting the brakes on the “Corbin-the-asshole just ditched me” train and switching over to “Corbin-the-sexy-god can fix my car.”

  Corbin looked at her quizzically, taking in the tear- streaked face and red nose. “Why are you so upset?”

  Monarch wiped her face and then shrugged her shoulders casually. “I told you, I thought you left.”

  “Really?” Corbin raised a blond eyebrow and rested his chin in his hand, a position that showcased his muscled arm to perfection. “So you were gonna miss me that much, huh?”

  Monarch scoffed, “Oh please. I thought you totally bailed on me before fixing my car, which is your end of this deal, remember? I thought I was never going to make it to Austin.”

  “You didn’t know if you were ever going to make it to Austin when we met and I don’t recall you bawling your eyes out over it then. In fact, you seemed tough as nails.”

  “If you’ll recall I was too busy being accosted by an escaped prisoner.” Monarch wished she could take back the retort the minute it came out. He had been playful, but her comment made his face turn to granite. “Sorry, Corbin. Forget it. I’m emotional.”

  “No shit.” He got up and went to the kitchen.

  Monarch wasn’t ready to give up. “You know, why don’t you just tell me why you went to prison? I think―”

  “It doesn’t matter, Monarch!” Corbin shouted. “Don’t you get it? Nothing that we did or were before matters now. It doesn’t matter that you were an accountant, or if I was a Longhorn fan, or if you preferred merlot over cabernet. None of that shit matters now. It’s the post-apocalypse. And as crappy as that is, at least for some of us, it’s a clean slate.”

  Monarch listened to Corbin bang around in the kitchen. She stopped the music, walked into the kitchen and stood just behind him, watching his posture go rigid. “It’s obvious life was hard on you before,” she said. “And I get you wanting to forget it. But again I ask you to put yourself in my shoes. I for one don’t want to forget, memories are all I have left. And I also can’t afford to take chances with trust.” As she turned to leave the kitchen she added, “For your information I prefer cabernet.”

  A hand reached out and grabbed her arm in a tight grip, stopping her in her tracks. “Maybe I should show you what an asshole I really am, since you already think it anyway.”

  “Corbin, stop messing around. Get your hand off me!”

  Next thing Monarch knew she was pressed up against the pantry door with Corbin’s forearms flat against it on either side of her head. “My hand isn’t what you should be worried about,” he rasped just before he captured her lips with his.

  It was pure heaven. Monarch whimpered low in her throat as he slanted his lips over hers again and again, their lips and tongues melding, hot and wet and needy. Monarch couldn’t even remember her last kiss, but none of them could compare to this one. It was intense, his lips possessing hers. Taking. Demanding.

  She felt a spiral of desire start in her stomach, pooling between her legs. She shifted her hips so that Corbin could slide perfectly against her, his hardness nestled against her crotch. A voice in her head said she should be embarrassed by her shameless reaction. But all she did was kiss him back with everything she had.

  Corbin’s left hand reached down and gripped her waist, then began a slow journey up her rib cage. Monarch’s nipples hardened in anticipation, just a few more inches and then…

  Corbin’s hand fell to his side and he stepped back from her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Monarch was slow to comprehend. Why had he stopped? What was happening?

  “What?”

  “I shouldn’t have—Wait, did you hear that?”

  She opened her eyes. “W-what?” She repeated.

  “I hear something on the porch,” Corbin whispered.

  Monarch’s reason finally resurfaced and she readied as best she could. “Oh…be careful, Corbin,” she said as they both heard something scrape along the wood just outside.

  Corbin crept into the living room to investigate. He paused a few seconds to look out the window before flattening himself against the wall next to the door. Then he pivoted and wrenched the door open. And promptly started laughing.

  “What is it?” Monarch’s voice was shrill, her legs still wobbly from the adrenaline rush of an explosive kiss followed by an unknown threat on the porch. Corbin was too busy laughing to answer so she walked up beside him.

  It was a dog. Standing on the porch was an adorable brindle colored pit bull mix. He turned to stare at Corbin with big chocolate brown eyes. “Woof!”

  Corbin knelt down in the doorway, his voice softer and warmer than Monarch believed possible. “Well, hey, buddy, are you hungry?”

  The dog was unexpected to say the least. The P virus infected all mammals, the domestic animal population suffering losses as devastating as humans. Monarch hadn’t laid eyes on one in months. Having grown up with them, she had always been a dog person, and planned to get one of her own as soon as she could move out of her apartment and get a house with a yard.

  This one was dirty and obviously emaciated, but he was adorable and seemed friendly, immediately moving toward Corbin with a vigorous wag of his tail.

  “I can’t believe it!” She came to stand next to Corbin and reached a hand down to let the dog sniff her before she pet him. “I wonder how such a sweet boy made it this far.”

  Corbin leaned down and gave the dog a once over. “This sweet boy is a girl.”

  “I should have known,” Monarch quipped. “We girls are tough.” She rubbed their new friend’s ear. “Aren’t we sweetie?”

  “We need to feed her,” Corbin said.

  “Definitely.” Monarch made a beeline for the kitchen to open a couple cans of random food. “I’ll run to the store tomorrow to get dog food, they have a decent sized section of it. What should we call her?”

  “How about Cabernet?” Corbin asked.

  It was an olive branch, one Monarch gratefully accepted. “Perfect.”

  ****

  After she’d gotten done spoiling the dog, Monarch stayed in the bedroom for most of the day, claimin
g a headache. She really just wasn’t ready to deal with that mind-blowing kiss. Her self-imposed exile made her feel like she was back in junior high, when she suffered from a paralyzing inability to make eye contact with the cute football player who’s locker was next to hers. It was nice to know she had evolved zero percent over the last thirteen years.

  At dinnertime, Corbin knocked on the door before opening it. “I’m making something to eat. You interested?”

  She was greedy for his company and it was stupid, not to mention immature, to spend time alone in her bedroom.

  If there was a time for personal growth, it was the apocalypse, right?

  She could work on the eye contact thing. “Sure. What are we having?”

  “Beans and Vienna sausages. And for dessert, Twinkies.” Corbin said, almost smiling. “Oh, and I opened one of those bottles of cabernet you had in your backpack. Since I heard that was your favorite.”

  Monarch felt her insides melt at the gesture. “Thanks, Corbin, I’ll be right there.”

  She headed into the living room to find the coffee table set with the food. The table was lit with a candle, though it was more for ambiance than light with the sizable blaze from the fireplace illuminating the room.

  “Wow, this is awesome,” Monarch said as she took it all in, also noticing that Cabernet had made herself right at home. She was currently curled up on a blanket near the fire, sleeping like this was her house all along. Her brindle coat shone in the light, and Monarch went over to give her a quick pat.

  “Full belly,” Corbin explained. “I fed her again, couldn’t resist those eyes.”

  I know all about mesmerizing eyes.

  Monarch sat down. They ate their meal in companionable silence, sipping the cabernet, which was actually pretty darn good. Monarch even ate two Twinkies, feeling greedy.

  “Ugh, I’m stuffed.”

  “You should eat more,” Corbin told her.