What if she was again?
His hold tightened on her, became almost bruising. Her breath caught because Blake was never rough, not with her. Not with—
“Jesus, Sam.” He dropped her hand.
Just seeing him hurt right then. She’d walked away from DC for a reason. She sure hadn’t intended to be seeing Blake again anytime soon. Just looking into his eyes made her feel as if someone had ripped open her heart.
The way he’d stared at her...back in DC. When he’d found her, half-naked, covered in blood... Samantha cleared her throat. “Why are you here?” she asked him again.
“Because I need you.”
Those words were rough. All rumbly. Her eyes raked over him. She didn’t think he meant that he needed her in a personal way. No, he had to mean—
“He’s back.” A muscle flexed along Blake’s square jaw. “He’s doing it again.”
For an instant, her heart stopped. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. And then... “No!” A fierce denial. With that cry, her heart began to race in her chest. Her breath came in quick pants. Even though sweat covered her from the run, Samantha was suddenly freezing. “You’re wrong.”
“I wish that I was. Cameron Latham is hunting again. Playing his sick games. Doing his experiments.”
Her chill grew worse.
“And I need you to help me stop him.”
She shook her head. “You came to the wrong woman. I’m not FBI any longer.” Like he’d need that reminder.
“You’re the right woman. You’re exactly the woman I need.”
Her body was so tense her muscles ached.
“No one knows Cameron Latham like you do.”
Her cheeks burned. Yes, she knew him intimately.
“You can stop him, Samantha. You can build a new profile on him. You were in his head before, and I know you can get right back there again.”
She looked away from Blake and grabbed for the handle of her car door. She yanked it open—
“Unless you don’t want to stop him.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
“Bass still thinks you let Cameron walk. He doesn’t believe that you wanted to put your lover behind bars.”
“Ex-lover.” How many times had she said that? She glanced up at him, knowing that a glare would be on her face. “As I’ve said before, Cameron and I hadn’t been involved that way in a long time.” She climbed into the car. Her hands fisted around the steering wheel.
“Why not?”
His question was so low that she barely heard it.
And since she was already walking on the tightrope of a whole give-him-hell attitude, she offered her former partner a grim smile. Why not? “Because of you, of course. I met you and didn’t want to be with anyone else.”
His shock was plain to see.
Before he could ask any other questions—questions she didn’t want to answer—Samantha yanked the car door closed. She started the vehicle and headed out of the lot, leaving Blake behind.
She didn’t start shaking until she was nearly home, but then the trembles came, rocking her whole body. He’s doing it again. She hoped that Blake was wrong. He had to be wrong.
Because if Cameron was hunting again, it would only be a matter of time before he came after her.
* * *
BLAKE GAMBLE HAD never been the kind of guy to give up easily. Actually, he didn’t believe in giving up at all. Especially not when it came to...
Her.
Samantha Dark.
Samantha Fucking Dark. The best profiler whom he’d ever met. Wicked, insanely smart—the woman could dissect a killer from a nearly perfect crime scene. She could see evidence that others missed. She saw motives. She saw monsters. She—
She was the one who stopped the Sorority Slasher. She’d gotten hell from Bass because Cameron Latham had vanished, but Samantha’s profile had been dead-on. Every detail she’d given on the killer matched Latham.
His boss thought that Samantha hadn’t just been screwing Cameron. Executive Assistant Director Justin Bass had told Blake—on more than one occasion—that he suspected Samantha might have actually even been involved in the crimes with the killer.
Total bullshit. The EAD was dead wrong.
Because I trust her. I have from the moment we were partnered together. She always had my back. The truth of the matter was...he’d taken one look into Samantha’s golden eyes and pretty much lost a piece of his soul. No one should have eyes like her. So unusual. So deep. Eyes that saw too much.
She was a pretty woman, beautiful, but she’d always tried to restrain that beauty. She wore suits to work, hiding what he knew was a killer body. Her black hair was always pulled back into a twist. She didn’t bother with makeup. Just business, that had been her.
And then everything had been blown to hell for Samantha.
Now here I am, ready to wreck the peace that she’s sought for herself.
He sighed as he got out of his car. Samantha’s cottage waited right up ahead. He hadn’t followed her there. He’d actually gone to the cottage before he tracked her down at the pier. When he’d been her partner, he’d learned her habits pretty well. Samantha always enjoyed her morning runs. And the pier? Well, in this small town, he’d figured she’d head for that spot.
Her car waited a few feet away. No sign of her, though. He exited his vehicle, made sure to grab his backpack and tried to figure out just how the hell he was going to convince Samantha to help him.
He took a few steps toward the cottage—a place that was situated high on the bluff that overlooked the bay. Her cottage was surrounded by massive oak trees and plenty of Spanish moss and—
“Why do you think it’s Cameron?”
He saw her, sitting on the steps that led up to the cottage. Her hands were on her knees, and her head was bent forward so that he couldn’t see her expression.
Her hair was shorter than it had been months before. Her usual twist was gone. The dark locks hung to her jaw, perfectly framing her heart-shaped face. He liked the cut. It made her eyes look bigger and made her look even sexier, though he doubted that had been her intention.
The problem is...I’ve always found everything about her sexy. A big problem, when he was supposed to be only her partner.
“Blake...” She looked up. “What makes you so certain it’s him?”
She hadn’t sounded surprised that he’d followed her. He figured Samantha knew it took a lot more to get him off track. He headed toward her, then lowered his body until he was sitting on the steps beside her. His leg brushed against hers.
“The world is full of twisted killers,” Samantha continued, her voice both sad and stark. Once more, her head lowered. Her delicate shoulders hunched. “How do you know it’s not one of them? Why does it have to be Cameron?”
This was the part that he knew would hurt. “Because he asked for you.”
Her head whipped up and toward him. Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “What?”
“He asked for you, at the kill scene.”
Her lower lip began to tremble.
Shit. I’m being too cold. Too hard.