“Don’t tell them the truth.” Because that would be another nightmare.
Her hand fell. “I’ll handle them, and I won’t incriminate you, okay? If that’s what you’re so worried about, just relax.”
“I’m worried about you.” Why couldn’t she see that?
She slid around him, no longer meeting his stare, and she turned off the storm of water. “Leave now, Ethan.”
Hell. “This is a huge mistake.”
“Then it’s my mistake to make.”
He didn’t move. He couldn’t. “You’re going to need me.”
“I haven’t needed you in years.”
At those words, he flinched.
“You have a way of wrecking my world, Ethan,” she said softly. “I don’t want that anymore.”
Every muscle in his body had turned to stone. “You mean…you don’t want me.”
She didn’t speak.
Fuck. He’d waited too long with her. But sometimes, you didn’t realize just what the hell you had…until you saw her bleeding out in the back of an ambulance. I can’t lose her. “When you get scared,” his voice was gruff, “when you think the world is going to pieces around you, I’ll be there. I can help you. I will help you.”
Her solemn gaze finally rose to meet his.
“Don’t forget that.” And, because he couldn’t help it, because he had to taste her before he walked away, Ethan closed the distance between them. His head lowered toward her, the movement slow, giving her the chance to back away.
She didn’t. Her hands rose to his chest once more. Would she push him away? Shove him again?
She didn’t.
“Ethan…” There was desire in her voice. A need. He understood—they both felt that physical connection, one that nothing could ever seem to sever. “You are so wrong for me,” she said.
And she was the only right thing in his world.
His lips brushed over hers. Slowly. Carefully. He savored her. Tasted her just enough…just enough to make him want so much more.
Then her mouth parted. Her tongue slid out and licked against his lower lip. That sensual touch went straight through his body, and his cock—already eager for her—jerked up even more. He took the kiss deeper. Made it harder as he tasted her—as he thrust his tongue into her mouth and thought of all the things he wanted to do with her.
To her.
If he’d been a better man, he never would have gone back into her life.
But…fuck that. Screw being good.
Ethan’s head lifted. “I’ll be close, when you need me.”
Then, before he could change his mind, before he could give in to the temptation to strip her right there, Ethan turned and walked away. He kept walking, until he was outside of her place. He paused on the front steps, glaring into the approaching night, his hands clenched at his sides.
It was easy enough to see the non-descript van parked at the curb. The FBI—so predictable. They’d be watching Carly for the night. So she’d be safe enough.
He’d give her this night. Long enough to realize that she needed him.
Then he’d have to take her away from the life she’d built. Because there was no choice. Not for either of them.
***
He wasn’t the first one to find the target. Watching from the shadows, he saw Ethan Barclay stalk out of the building, anger evident in every line of his body as he paused to glare at the van on the corner.
FBI agents were in that van.
Well, well…so the gossip he’d learned had been true. The woman called Carly Shay was an important piece in the puzzle—the puzzle that was the disappearance of Quincy Atkins.
He’d been trying to solve that mystery for years. A man like Quincy didn’t just vanish, not without plenty of help.
As Ethan marched away, he settled back into the shadows. He knew the right time to approach his prey. And he also knew the right time to wait.
The FBI wouldn’t be around forever. Carly Shay wouldn’t always have a guard. The minute she was vulnerable…
Then it will be my turn for a little one-on-one time with Carly…
Chapter Two
Carly hadn’t packed a bag. She also hadn’t slept much, either, but the next morning, she was dressed and ready for work and she hurried out of her building with the intention of getting her life absolutely back to normal.
She wasn’t going to run. She wasn’t going to let Ethan scare her.
She also had decided—around two a.m.—that a big reveal to the FBI probably wasn’t in her best interest, either. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in jail. Not for the death of a murdering¸ raping bastard like Quincy Atkins.
Her heels clicked over the pavement. There was a cable company van parked a block away and she glanced over at it quickly. Maybe they’d finally get her service back up and running. Maybe—