“Not a chance.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t trust him, and I don’t think he’d be a match for this killer anyway.”
“You’re done with him?”
“Definitely.” She slowly turned her torso toward Heath and dug into his mind. Oh, he was definitely living in the gray area, and he wasn’t telling her much about himself. Yet there was a hint of sweetness in him, the promise that he’d die to protect somebody he perceived as weaker than him. “Please work with me.”
He sighed. “You’re killing me here.”
Yeah, he definitely had trouble saying no to somebody asking for his help. She should feel badly about manipulating him, but this was too important. “I’m sorry. But I can handle this. I’m not weak or breakable, Heath. You and I can do this.” She looked at him beneath her lashes.
He switched on the heater. “You’re definitely breakable. Don’t charge into danger without knowing that one fact.” His low rumble filled the vehicle and then zinged right through her body.
She shifted her weight on the seat. Was he warning her about the case or about himself? Why did this guy intrigue her so? That was the other reason she’d chosen him for her fake fiancé, and she was aware enough to admit it to herself. She’d wanted to see Heath Jones again. “I suppose from an analytical standpoint, we’re all breakable.”
“Uh-huh.” His phone buzzed, and he ignored it.
“Are you going to answer that?” she asked, more than a little curious. Panic flared in her breast. “Oh no. I didn’t even think. You don’t wear a ring, but are you married?” God. What if he was married? She’d just caused him a world of hurt on national television.
“No.”
She should be embarrassed by the relief that flowed through her. “Girlfriend?” She held her breath.
He cut her a look. “Nowyou ask that?”
Heat filled her face.
He sighed. “No girlfriend. Apparently I now have a fiancée.”
Warmth bloomed through her chest. What would it be like to actually date somebody like him? A man so tough and seemingly strong? “I said I was sorry,” she muttered.
“If you were sorry, you’d let me get you somewhere safe so I could go to work.”
She reached out and grabbed his arm, almost desperate to make him understand. “I don’t want to be the scared little girl hiding somewhere while you go after the bad guy. I’m the key to this guy’s obsession, like it or not.”
“The key.” He shook his head. “Do you have copies of the letters?”
“Yes. I made copies of the entire file.” She winced. “Don’t tell the FBI. At least come to my hotel and see what I’ve put together.” Oh man. Heath in her small hotel room. She bit her lip. The bed was right by the small desk area. The bed. Heath. A bed. What in the world was wrong with her? Sure, she’d known desire before, but he was just so much—so much muscle and strength and hard good looks. When had she become attracted to bad boys?
Did he have ripped abs? She’d always wanted to see ripped abs.
“Why are you blushing?”
She coughed and released his arm. “Sorry. Just got overwhelmed for a moment.”
His head lifted as if in understanding. “Ah. I’m sorry, sweetheart. You have to be feeling her loss.”
Anya blinked. For a few minutes she’d actually forgotten. Her sister was dead. That quickly, raw emotion tore through her. “I’m okay.” She set her shoulders back against the seat. “In fact, I’m determined. We’re going to find that bastard, Heath, and we’re gonna make him pay.”
“No.” He turned, his face implacable. “I failed to protect your sister, and this guy has killed nine women already. If you’re a halfway decent shrink, you already know that there’s no way in hell I’m allowing you to be bait. We’ll get the files, and then you’re going underground.”
Her mouth gaped. Oh yeah? That’s what he thought.
CHAPTER
9
The snowstorm increased in force, so Heath sped up the SUV’s windshield wipers. His phone buzzed in his pocket again; he ignored the insistent demand. Ryker would have to wait until later to yell at him about his suddenly very public involvement in the case.
“All right, Anya. Here’s the deal.” Heath kept his voice low and commanding, hiding both his concern and anger. “We’ll get your stuff from your hotel and take it to the one I told Reese I was staying at. Guess I should check in. Then you can show me the letters.”
