“You’re lucky,” she murmured, her gaze on Lewis’s back. “This small town happens to have the best damn police captain in the state. You can count on him to help you out.”
Good to know. “You’re close to him?”
A faint smile curved her lips. “He’s the only father I’ve had since I was thirteen. So, yeah, we’re close.”
Surprise rocked through him. Samantha and her secrets...she always kept him guessing. One day, though, he’d learn all there was to know about her.
“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured. She rose and headed for the door. “I can’t shake the feeling that he’s out there, watching.”
Blake caught her hand. I did this. I brought him here. “Samantha...he’s not going to get to you.”
She turned toward him, her body brushing against his. “That’s the thing. I’d rather he come after me. And not pick some other woman like Kristy. I can fight back. I was a trained agent. I don’t want anyone else being the victim.” Her eyes gleamed up at him. “I don’t want anyone suffering because he’s trying to get to me.”
* * *
IT HAD BEEN one crazy day.
Tammy White locked the door to Connoisseur’s Delight and stepped into the small alley behind the building. Her car was parked in the garage down the street, about forty yards away. The sun was starting to set, snaking across the sky and turning it a deep red.
The FBI agent had made her nervous. He’d stayed at the store, asking all sorts of questions. And then things had finally clicked for her.
Cameron Latham. Oh, Jesus, she hadn’t even recognized the guy’s name at first. She heard dozens of names every single day. They didn’t stick out for her. So when the caller had placed the order, she hadn’t given a second thought to his name.
Until the intense agent and the dark-haired lady had shown up. They’d pushed with their questions, and she’d finally made the connection.
The Sorority Slasher. Cameron Latham. He’d been such a big deal in the news months ago, but the guy had seemingly vanished from the face of the earth. She’d forgotten all about him.
I won’t be forgetting now.
Her steps quickened as she headed toward the garage. She couldn’t wait to tell her roommate, Jemi, about everything that had happened. Her friend was going to flip. Maybe they should call the news. Or one of those tabloids. Those reporters liked these kinds of stories, right?
“Did she like the champagne?”
The question came from the shadows just inside of the parking garage. Tammy opened her mouth to scream, but a man lunged toward her. He slapped one hand over her mouth even as the other yanked her close to him.
He was handsome. That thought flashed through her mind as the fluorescent light shone down on them. His face was handsome. His hair was stylish. He had perfect teeth as he smiled at her.
He didn’t look evil, but...
He is.
Tammy struggled against him, but his grip was tight. Punishing.
“I hope she liked the gift. I was just so happy to find her that I needed her to understand I was here.”
He was yanking her toward a gleaming luxury sedan. A big, fancy car.
“But then I got to thinking...”
She kicked him hard, and his grip slackened on her. Tammy took that opportunity, and she jerked out of his grip. She lunged forward—
But he yanked her back. He spun her around, and his fist slammed into her face.
She heard bones crunch, and she felt wetness—blood—splash over her lips as it poured from her nose. Her whole body slumped, and he seized that moment to lift her up and shove her into his waiting car. Dazed, she didn’t even fight him.
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
“I got to thinking...” He cranked the car. “She’s going to need more than a bottle of champagne to realize the hunt is on. She’s going to need a victim.”
Tammy tried to grab for the door handle.
And that was when his hand flew out, and the knife came toward her.
* * *
BLAKE STOOD AT her front door, staring down at her. He’d brought her back from the police station. The ride had been quiet, intense. Too many emotions had seemed to fill the air between them.
Danger was waiting. Samantha could feel it in the air. A killer was coming. There was no more hiding.
Her breath eased out. “Thank you for the ride.”
He growled. That was the only word for it—a growl. Rough and animalistic, and the sound made Samantha’s heartbeat quicken.
“You think that’s the way it ends? I bring you home and I just walk away, knowing some bastard is out there? Someone who seems to be after you?”
She didn’t want him to walk away. Samantha’s hand lifted and pressed to his chest. “Blake—”
“Screw that.” His words were ragged. “I’m not playing by the rules any longer. You matter too much.”
And then...Blake was kissing her. Samantha’s hands flew up and flattened against his chest. She could feel the strength of his muscles beneath her touch. She intended to shove him back. After all, they were partners and they couldn’t—
We’re not partners, not any longer. I’m not FBI. I’m a civilian. There’s no line that we can’t cross.
Her hands pressed to him, but she didn’t push him back. She’d thought about his mouth for a long time, wondered how he would kiss, how he would taste. Wondered what it would be like to just let herself go with him.
She didn’t have to wonder any longer. Samantha’s lips parted beneath his, and when his tongue thrust into her mouth, a low moan built in her throat. She found herself rising onto her tiptoes, leaning toward him, wanting more of his kiss.
Still waters run deep. That was the old saying. She’d always suspected he had some very, very deep waters. Deep water, deep passion. If he just let his control go, if she let hers go...
No.
Samantha stepped back, sliding from his embrace. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and her breasts—her nipples—were tight with arousal. All from one simple kiss. Blake Gamble was dangerous to her. Another truth she’d always known. She felt too much with him. Too much, too fast.
“I’m not going to apologize for that kiss.” His voice was a sexy, rough rasp that sent a shiver down her spine.
“Don’t remember...asking you to do that.” She remembered kissing him back with a wild hunger. “We’re adults. We can—”
“I’ve wanted you from day one.”
Her breath whispered out. She’d seen the desire in his eyes, burning hot in that green gaze. But he’d always kept his control around her.
“I played by the rules.”
Because he seemed to be the rule-following sort.
His jaw tightened. “And now I’ve fucking brought a killer to your door.” Anger was there, deepening his voice, letting the hint of his Texas drawl slip out.
“Blake, it’s not—”
“My fault?” His gaze burned. “You don’t need to lie to me. I keep telling you that. When will you believe it? I can handle your truth. I can handle every single secret that you have.”
No,