by Karen Rock
“He’s a sadist.” Katherine broke off a piece of bread and handed the steaming end to him. “Any tool, physical, mental, emotional, to increase their suffering. That’s what he really wants.”
Nash watched, transfixed, as Katherine twirled her fork in her spaghetti and brought it to her mouth. Her lips wrapped around her fork as she sucked in a trailing noodle.
“Their death—it’s secondary,” he said when he trusted his voice. “He humiliates them again later when he poses them. Shaving their heads, removing their teeth, letters carved into their torsos…”
Katherine paused, midchew, and spoke around a mouthful of bread. “How do you…?”
“There’s a website of bootleg crime scene photos for amateur sleuths like me.”
She swallowed, shaking her head, and her eyes lingered on the framed diploma of his Criminal Justice Associate degree. “You’re a private investigator, not an amateur.”
He stared at her, stunned, shoved to his feet, and strode into the kitchen. “I have a confession to make,” he called as he grabbed butter from the fridge.
“Okay…”
Out of butter knives, he retrieved one from his dishwasher and scrubbed it. “This is my first real criminal case. Up to now I’ve only tracked down adulterous spouses.”
The silence billowing from the living room/eating area smacked him with blunt force. “Rethinking your decision to team up?” he asked offhandedly, his fingers squeezing the sponge.
“No. You’ve got good instincts.”
He released a long breath, gratified by her faith.
“Any thoughts on the meaning of the letters carved on the victims?” she called.
“B, A, S, M, B. Nothing’s jumping out at me.”
“I’ve run every possible acronym, looked at other languages, even ancient ones, and I have nothing.”
Water streamed down the knife as he rinsed it. “Maybe they’re the killer’s initials?”
“Then there’d only be three, or four if his last name’s hyphenated. It means something to the killer. I just can’t figure out what.”
He dried the utensil and rejoined her. “What are your plans tomorrow?”
“Tammy’s running a background check on Jax Fuller,” she said after biting into the buttered bread slice he passed her. “In the meantime, I’m going to stop by his old workplaces and pay him a visit after. See what he has to say.”
Nash resisted the urge to wipe the smear of sauce above her upper lip. “I was planning on doing the same. I’ll come with you.”
“Not necessary.”
He shook his head, chewing, then said, “You promised to include me on the case. Besides, I know the guy. He can be a hothead; I don’t want you alone with him.”
“In case I faint with fright?” she challenged, not sounding the least bit fearful about confronting a possible serial killer on her own. Then again, it was her job.
“Or fall into hysterics,” he added, matching her light tone and masking the deep sense of protectiveness surging through him.
“Or get the vapors…you know, in case my corset’s too tight?” She shoveled in another mouthful of her diminishing plate of pasta.
He grinned, spaghetti dangling from his lifted fork. “Exactly. Women are the weaker sex,” he teased, hoping she wouldn’t put him in a choke hold for the lame remark. Though it could be fun foreplay…
“I bench a hundred and thirty pounds,” Katherine said.
“That’ll work, since Jax weighs about the same.”
“Perfect.”
“But I’d still like to tag along.”
“Fine, tough guy.”
He grinned to himself. She’d agreed just to appease him, confident in her ability to handle things alone.
Katherine slurped up the last strand of pasta from her empty plate. When she caught his stare, her hangdog expression was so woeful that he chuckled. “Want more?”
“No.” She shoved her plate away. “I can’t believe I ate all of it.” She patted her stomach. “Carb overload.”
“How about dessert? I’ve got some leftover tiramisu.”
She gaped at him. “You really are a god.”
“‘O Mighty One’ is how I prefer to be addressed,” he deadpanned.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, cowboy,” she quipped with an eye roll. “Though ‘Mighty’ I’ll give you.” Her eyes fell to his groin then slowly dragged up his body, his muscles contracting everywhere they landed. “Mind if we move over to the sofa? If I sit here any longer I’ll eat your pasta, too. And the rest of the bread. And did you just butter another piece for me?” Her voice rose.
He nodded.
She snatched it from his hand, crossed to the sectional, and collapsed onto it with a groan.
After finishing his plate and clearing up, he joined her, firmly ignoring the red-hot memories of her on the sectional the other night.
She’d unfastened the top three buttons on her shirt and his eyes lingered on the bared skin. The urge to follow the shape of her collarbone with his tongue seized him hard. But he needed to listen. Pay attention. She came here as a partner on a case, not a partner in the bedroom, much as he was tempted to break his one-night-only rule.
“What did I miss the night Brittany went missing?” Katherine’s spine bowed as she stared down at her clenched hands. “I was with her…”
Nash couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch her collarbone. “You weren’t working.”
“No. It was definitely more pleasure.” Her lids lifted and she met his eye.
“I’m glad you thought so.”
“How could you doubt it?” she said. “Thousands of women adore you.”
“There’s only one woman I’m interested in impressing.”
Leaning forward, he brushed his lips where her neck met her shoulder. Her soft, sweet fragrance wafted from her skin, reminding him of their incredible night. Moments when their limbs had been entwined, when his hips moved against hers before giving way to an explosive joining.
The memories rolled over him in sweetly painstaking detail. He dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. Her heartbeat tripped along at high speed, her pulse pumping overtime beneath his mouth.
Her head tipped back and her fingers landed on his shoulders, gripping him. “Nash,” she gasped, a throaty sound of want.
His fingers slipped one of her buttons through its hole, then another, as she arched towards him. With a growl, he tunneled his fingers through her hair and kissed her.
He put his hands on her hips, and he tightened his grip, the effort costing him. He wanted to continue, his whole body primed and ready, but he needed to let her go. She’d resent being maneuvered if he didn’t back off and would see him as a lover, not a real partner on this case and in…
…and in what?
What other kind of partner did he want to be to her? He’d wanted to see her again after their first hookup, but hadn’t thought beyond that.
He ended the kiss gradually, giving her mouth a little nudge as he pulled away. “Much more of this,” he murmured against her lips, “and I won’t be able to stop.”
Katherine’s eyes were dazed when they opened, her breathing ragged. “Right,” she gasped and withdrew slightly, confirmation he’d done the right thing by hitting the brakes.
So why the hell did it feel so damn wrong?
He rested his cheek on the top of her head. How well she fit in his arms, tucked under his chin. Her breath rushed against his neck, slowing with his. For a couple of heartbeats, she said nothing, then she cleared her throat. “I’m not very good at this.”
“At what?” he murmured against her silken hair.
“The whole seduction thing. Sex…”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Pulling back, she shook her h
ead. Her expression was one of numb misery, her face pale, hands clenched into fists in her lap. It made him want to kiss her all over again and soothe that pain away.
Where did her insecurity come from?
He had a hunch and played it. “At the club, your friend said you were recently divorced.”
Katherine’s emotions churned so close to the surface he could feel them. She was trembling, whether from hurt or rage he wasn’t sure. Possibly both. “Six months ago. Cheating ex. He and the woman I caught him with are engaged.”
“What an ass. And a damn fool.” He smoothed loose strands from her face and rubbed his thumb over her lips, which had turned down in a frown.
“There’re always two sides. I didn’t give him enough attention or affection. He called me an ice queen.”
Nash’s nostrils flared, expelling the outrage rising on her behalf. “You’re the most passionate, responsive woman I’ve ever met.”
“You are the sex god,” she joked. “Guess that makes you the expert.”
“That’s on stage. Off it, I’m just a man who feels damn lucky to be with you. The problem was your ex, not you.”
She jerked back to stare at him, wide-eyed. “What do you mean?”
“You just weren’t into him.”
Her mouth opened, a rounded “O” of surprise.
“You’re a woman of discerning taste.”
Her lips closed then curled upward in the corners as her eyes ran over him. “So, you’re saying I’m into you?”
He cupped her face. “God, I hope so.”
With a groan, she stood. “I should get going. If I stay, our one-night stand will turn into two and then…”
He got to his feet and slid a hand in hers. He didn’t know where any of this was headed, but he damn well knew he had to let her make the next move. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”
“I suck at relationships.”
“Duly warned. Besides, right now the focus is the case.”
She reached up and stroked his face. “You really are a nice guy, you know that?”
“Keep your voice down. Everyone else thinks I’m a badass.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Nice. And I bet Nonna Giovanna agrees with me.”
“Isn’t that what women say when they’re about to dump a guy? He’s so nice?”
She laughed, her hand on the doorknob. “Guess so, only I’m coming back so we can investigate Jax Fuller. I’ll pick you up. It’s better if we arrive in something less conspicuous than your souped-up Harley. Nine o’clock sound good?”
“It’s a date.”
He waved as she drove off then lowered his hand.
A date.
Not the one he wanted with beautiful Katherine Bowden, but the kind he needed. From now on, he’d keep his distance, physically—though his interest went beyond physical, he admitted to himself.
She’d responded in his arms like fire. There was nothing cold about her, despite what her dumbass ex had said. Nor boring.
Special Agent Katherine Bowden was going to be hard to resist.
Chapter Eight
At Katherine’s knock the following day, Nash’s front door opened to reveal him wearing nothing except a white towel.
Holy shit.
His bold eyes swept over her, his surprised expression fading. “Power pantsuit. I like it. Can I get you some coffee?”
She tried, and failed, to rip her gaze from his magnificent body. The towel sat low on his lean hips, teasing her with a glimpse of that rippling V disappearing beneath the cloth. His chest was pure muscle with water beads glistening on his pecs, running in rivulets down his ridged abdomen. Dark, wet hair was slicked back from his gorgeous face, stopping just above wide shoulders.
Wow. Just wow.
Her tongue licked her dry lips, her mouth the Sahara Desert.
“Katherine?” he prompted. He leaned a muscular arm against the doorjamb, not the least bit offended to be ogled by a woman. In fact, given his devilish grin that was somewhere between sexy as hell and wickedly adorable, she suspected he liked it. Very much. “Coffee?”
“Uh—sure. And sorry I’m early. I didn’t think you’d be…” She gestured to his bronze skin, then ducked under his arm to scoot inside.
“Naked?” One of his sculpted brows lifted. Alarm bells rang as he sauntered closer, stopping a breath away. The scent of his clean, soapy skin weakened her knees, her joints, her self-control…
“I was going to say, ‘not ready.’ I’m only five minutes ahead of schedule.”
He pointed to his kitchen clock. “It’s 8:40.”
She nodded, keeping her eyes firmly above his broad shoulders. “I always arrive fifteen minutes ahead, so technically this is only five minutes early.”
“For you.”
“Right.”
“Got it.” He tipped up her chin and waited until her eyes rolled up to meet his. For a moment, she lost herself in their warm, green depths. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Her heart dashed against her chest. “Me, too.” Her voice emerged from her thick throat in a prepubescent squeak.
Nice.
“Me, too,” she tried again and stepped back from the enticing man before she tugged off his skimpy towel, threw him down on the sectional, and rode him hard until she released the pent-up frustration simmering inside.
His bare kitchen table caught her eye, a welcome distraction. “Where did you put all your notes? I thought we’d take another look—”
Her voice cut off when she spotted a large bulletin board mounted on the eating area’s wall. Victims’ pictures filled the space, along with a map of Dallas. Push pins designated where the victims were last seen, and later discovered. Strings linked them together. “Wow.”
“Like it?” he asked, his voice soft and deep, rumbling near her ear. A warm mug was pushed into her hand.
“How did you…? When…?”
“Last night, after work. I—uh—couldn’t sleep, so I stayed up putting it together. All the victims are connected to their dump sites except Brittany and Layla. They just have one pin for now.”
She sipped her coffee, black and strong like she preferred, and admired the organized visual of their case.
Her case, she swiftly corrected herself. She slid Nash a quick glance from the corner of her eye. It felt more like their case, though, and he a real partner.
Careful.
She stared harder at the pins. “There’s a pattern here.”
“Was up all night trying to figure it out. It’s like a roulette ball, spinning in my head, waiting to fall into place.”
She nodded, familiar with the feeling of knowledge you sensed but couldn’t reach. It was damn frustrating, all right. No wonder he’d been up all night.
As had she. The scant sleep she’d gotten was filled with lusty dreams of Nash. This morning’s power workout routine hadn’t begun to drain off the pent-up energy burning through her, or the worry he might be stealing her focus.
“The way you connected everything shows the killer’s comfort zone.” She circled an area between the abduction sites and the dump sites.
“He’s torturing then killing somewhere in there.”
She nodded, impressed with Nash’s detective work. “If he’s keeping the victims in his house, he doesn’t live in a residential area.”
“Otherwise, neighbors would be complaining about the noise. They’d hear screams and report a domestic assault.”
“Or he’s killing away from home. There are old industrial parks out there and woods.” She pulled out her cell.
“Who are you calling?”
“The police chief.” Once the call connected, she relayed her order to have officers search the killer’s comfort zone. “Abandoned houses, industrial sites, woods, cabins, and any other likely spots t
hey see in the area,” she concluded.
Nash, who’d left to dress, now stared at her from his bedroom doorway wearing a fitted black T-shirt tucked into slim-hipped jeans and cowboy boots. “Just like that, huh?”
She pocketed her phone. “What do you mean?”
“Just on my say so, you ordered cops into the field? I’m not a detective.” A wistful note entered his voice. Was he aware of it?
She shrugged. “Your assessment was dead on. I wasn’t going to waste time dithering on it.”
He closed the distance between them in three strides, gathered her in his arms, and cupped the back of her head, tipping her lips to his.
“Thank you,” he whispered before capturing her mouth in a heart-stopping, toe-curling kiss.
Her buzzing cell phone broke them apart.
“Hello?” she gasped into her phone, one hand on Nash’s rapidly rising and falling chest. Their eyes burned into one another’s.
“Did I catch you during a workout?” asked Tammy Win, her old friend and fellow agent back at BAU.
“No.” Katherine shivered when Nash skimmed his finger over her mouth. “I was just…just…”
“Jesus. You’re trained better than that,” Tammy scoffed, amusement lightening her tone. “You must have a guy with you.”
“Stop,” she mouthed at Nash, then blurted, “No, I don’t.”
“Your voice rose—one of your tells.”
“I’m not lying. I’m working with a partner.” A very sexy partner who was currently nibbling on her ear. She eased away and grabbed for coherent thought.
“Partner, huh? Heard you’re working this case solo.”
“A private investigator and I joined forces, since our cases overlap.”
“Joining forces…so that’s what you crazy kids are calling it nowadays.”
Katherine giggled at Nash’s naughty wink. He was incorrigible. How good it felt to be pursued, to be wanted by a hot, virile man, one who told her she was passionate, responsive…not an ice queen, even if she couldn’t do anything about it. He’d vowed her ex was the problem, not her, and given how warm and gooey Nash made her feel, she was starting to believe him.
