"Dawn?" He stepped back, taking the heat of his body with him.
But then...it was New Orleans. There was plenty of heat to go around.
Her hand flew out and clamped around the balcony.
"What were you trying to prove? That I still want you?" He gave a ragged laugh. "Baby, I never stopped."
She'd never stopped wanting him, either. Even when she'd been afraid.
"Be careful what you start," Tucker warned her. "Be sure you can finish it." Their gazes held. His desire was plain to see, and she wondered...what did he see when he looked at her?
He took a few nice, long breaths.
So did she.
She'd had lovers in the years since she and Tucker had parted. There had been one guy that she'd even been engaged to-for a very short period of time. All of two weeks. Then she'd realized she didn't love him, that she was just going through the motions. Trying to be normal when normal was the last thing she'd felt.
///
She hadn't loved Martin, but she'd wanted him. She'd wanted her other lovers, too. She knew what it was to desire someone.
But it still seemed as if she wanted Tucker more than she'd ever wanted any of the others. The desire she felt for him...it was so much stronger. Stronger. Hotter.
Darker.
He rolled back his shoulders. "Let's talk to the downstairs neighbor."
Right. That had been their plan before she'd decided to start testing herself. And before she made any other moves that she might regret, she needed to get her thoughts together. Because I'm not sure I can finish what I'm starting. That had been the problem years before. She'd begin with desire when she touched Tucker, but then the dark, twisting fear had consumed her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as she turned away from him.
But he caught her wrist in a lightning-fast move. "I told you already..." Again, his voice was that rough growl that sent a shiver over her. Not a shiver of fear. "You never have to apologize to me."
She looked back, staring into his eyes. At that moment, she just couldn't speak. Seven years. God, that was such a long time. She hadn't expected her emotions to ignite this way. That fierce tangle she felt inside when she was near him...it should have been gone.
But...
It wasn't. When it came to Tucker, her feelings were as strong and twisted as ever.
Without another word, Dawn led the way out of her condo, making sure to lock the door and reset her security system. If anyone came through that door, the alarm would sound instantly. That door, her balcony doors and even her windows, just to be safe. The den area was also outfitted with a motion sensor.
She believed in being safe.
They went silently downstairs and she paused in front of Jinx's place. It was edging close to twelve already, but...
Dawn knocked. And she knocked again. She listened intently, but there were no sounds from inside Jinx's place.
"Tell me the name of her tattoo shop," Tucker said as he stood to her right. "I have several stops to make today, and I'll add that to my list."
"It's Voodoo Tats, just off Bourbon Street." She knew his "stops" had to do with the case and she sure wished she could go with him on the investigation. "Will you keep me informed, when you find out something new about Jane Doe?"
He nodded. "I will." He turned to leave the building, but stopped.
She tilted her head as she studied him. "Tucker?"
"You tasted as good as I remembered."
So had he. Dawn swallowed.
"But keep in mind what I said. Don't start what you can't finish." He glanced back at her. "You've changed over the years, and so have I."
Once more, his words sounded like a warning. Probably because that was exactly what they were.
"If something happens again, if anything goes down at your place that scares you, call me."
Easy to say, but... "I don't have your number."
His gaze sharpened. Then he pulled out his phone.
She blurted her number quickly, and when he tensed, she wondered if he'd already known it. Tricky FBI guy, he probably did.
A moment later, her phone vibrated.
He stared at Dawn as her phone rang. "Now you've got my number. If you need me, you call me."
Right. She'd be doing that.
He walked away, heading out into the busy street. She stood there a moment and just watched him. He had changed. He'd spent the last seven years hunting killers with the FBI. Had he been forced to take another life? What would it have been like to always be targeting monsters? To make hunting them your life? What would that do to a person?