We sat there on the side of the road, the cab tense with silence and rain tapping on the windshield.
I told him everything. Again. From the bear to the camera to the unshakable unease. He didn’t move. White-knuckled on the steering wheel, jaw tight enough I could hear his teeth grinding. His eyes never left the road. Maybe because if he looked at me, he’d explode.
When I finished, he said?—
“And you have no idea who could’ve done it? Who broke into your house and planted a camera?”
“No.”
“You told the cops no one has keys to your place. Was that a lie?”
“No.”
“No one?”
“No. No one.”
He stared at me. Hard. Like he was trying to see something I wasn’t saying.
Then—
“Were you sleeping with Andrew?”
My neck snapped toward him. “What?”
He met my glare without flinching.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” I snapped, “but no. Andrew and I weren’t sleeping together. And even if we were, what would that have to do with anything?”
“Just gathering the facts, sweetheart.”
There it was. Jerk Phoenix. Back in full form. Weirdly possessive. Unreasonably intrusive.
“First of all, don’t call me sweetheart. Second, if you slam the brakes like that again, I’ll personally ask Chief McCord to haul you away in cuffs.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“What?” he said, eyes narrowing. “Does that scare you? That I’ve spent time in jail?”
I held his gaze. Steady. “You don’t scare me.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ll have to work on that then.”
He slammed the gas. Mud splattered behind us as we shot forward, the tires gripping the road like the wheels had something to prove.
So did he.
And that was the problem. Somewhere between the shouting, the storm, and the way he’d practically thrown himself in front of my car window like a human shield, something in me shifted.Howcould I be attracted to someone so gruff, so volatile, so completely out of bounds? And yet—I was. Fiercely. Because beneath all the arrogance and raw power, he’d been protective. Unapologetically so. Not in a performative, controlling way, but instinctive. Like keeping me safe had moved to the top of his list without him even realizing it. And I... liked it.Toomuch. Which made no sense. He was a client. A man I was supposed to evaluate, not want to doveryintimate things with. I forced the thought down, shoved it hard into the corner of my mind and locked it away. There could be no blurred lines. Not with Phoenix Steele.
“Did the cops find the recorder at the scene?” I asked after a beat of silence.
“No.”
“The bear?”
“No.”
