His upper lip quirked. “You’re dangerous, lady.”
She blinked. Was that a dimple in his right cheek? Her pants were suddenly too restrictive. “Huh?”
“Ah, sweetness, the real kind, is more dangerous than an armed weapon to a guy like me.” He rubbed a hand through his ruffled hair, turning back to the road. “Temper or not, I’m not completely un-self-aware.”
She’d noticed that about him. He’d been incredibly violent with Carl, and yet she wasn’t afraid of him. Not one inch of her feared him, and wasn’t that interesting. “Who are you?” she whispered, her instincts humming right along with her body.
He breathed out and shook his head. “Hell if I know. Sometimes I think I didn’t even exist until I found Ryker and Denver.” He lifted his hand to show her the long scar down his palm. “We cut ourselves when I was eleven, mingled blood, and became family.” His brows drew down. “I don’t think I was reallymeuntil that moment, you know?”
She was more than a little intrigued. She’d felt adrift since her father had died and left her alone. Nobody reallyknewher. Not until Loretta had gathered her close. How sad and scared those three boys must’ve been to have needed each other so badly. More than ever, she wanted to ease him. Why was that? They’d only just met, and yet something in him called to her. “I began to find parts of me I’d forgotten existed when Loretta and I reconnected, so I think I understand.” Her chest ached, and she absently rubbed it. They had needed more time together.
“I promise we’ll find the guy who killed her.” He reached across the seat and gently took her hand. His thumb brushed along her knuckles.
Warmth and power burst across her skin. She ran her finger along his blood brother scar. “I know.” While she sensed a land mine, she couldn’t help herself. “Where did you guys all meet up?”
His body didn’t stiffen, and he didn’t draw away. Yet a tension—one she could feel—rolled through the Jeep. “At a boys home.” He released her to press a button above the mirror, and the garage door to their building slid open. “We didn’t come up with a plan tonight or check out the decoy offices, so we’ll do so tomorrow morning. You and I have to go public soon, or we’ll miss the window to catch this guy.”
This time. The words went unspoken, but she could feel them. The killer would go after somebody very soon, whether it was her or not. There was a chance—a small one—that the killer would actually get her. If that happened, she’d see Loretta again. But what about this life? The Jeep stopped, and she unbuckled her belt to jump out. Had she really lived? As she walked around the vehicle, she was struck again by Heath’s size. He could crush her in a second, and he had way too many secrets.
He gently took her arm and led her toward the door.
Gentle. He was always so gentle with her. The same way Ryker was with Zara while still being on full alert.
Tension still cascaded from Heath, probably from the fight.
Adrenaline rolled inside her, too, sparking in her veins.
God, she was tired of thinking. Tired of being scared. So tired of being alone. For a while, she didn’t have to be. Heath had been upfront with his offer of taking them to another level. That level would probably be explosive. Would he let her know him? Really know him? “I don’t want to leave this life without really living,” she murmured.
He opened the door and escorted her to the stairs. “I get that.”
She climbed two stairs and turned to stand in front of him, stopping his progress. Two steps up and she could meet him eye to eye. She pushed her shoulders back and tried to look confident. “I’m done analyzing everything to death. At least for tonight.”
His eyes darkened. “All right.”
Courage. She could do this. “You’re attracted to me.”
One of his dark eyebrows rose. Fire flared, hot and bright, in those stunning eyes.
She swallowed. Her knees still felt weak. “I’m attracted to you, too.”
He drew back slightly. “Anya—”
“You already made the offer.” She planted both hands on his broad shoulders. “Life can end very quickly. We both know that.”
He stiffened and very slightly shook his head. Something that looked suspiciously like panic lit his eyes. “Anya—”
“Wait,” she burst out as she curled her fingers over his shoulders and dug in. “I know all the reasons we shouldn’t.” What if he no longer wanted her? She hadn’t quite considered that. He’d called herdangerous. What if that didn’t mean desirable? Heat climbed into her face. “I’m just saying, since we’re pretending to be engaged, maybe we should act like it.” Okay, that was lame.
“Anya, listen. I want you so badly I ache, but I’m not the guy for you,” he said calmly.
“Enough of that crap,” she snapped. “I don’t want to hear how dangerous you are or how you’re not good enough. It’s all just so stupid.”
His chin lifted enough to give her pause. “I’m not talking about worth, darlin’. I’m saying that I’m not a permanent type of guy and probably won’t ever be. The more I get to know you, the more I see a picket fence and a happily-ever-after.”
She rolled her eyes.
His hardened.
