Valentine Killer: Die For Me Part 11

He nodded.

"Because the reporter knew me, you think this Amy did, too."

"We have to explore that possibility." His voice was a low rumble.

Goose b.u.mps rose on her arms. "You checked my phone, didn't you? You saw Savannah's number."

He nodded.

"Was that Valentine calling? Did he have her then?"

"Yes." A hard pause, then, "The ME thinks she was alive then."

Her lashes closed. Dammit. One missed call. If she'd just picked up the d.a.m.n phone, maybe she could have saved Savannah. Stopped Valentine.

Then Amy Evans would be alive, too.

The floor creaked beneath his feet. His hands closed over her shoulders, but this time he seemed to be holding his strength in check. "Her death isn't on you."

She looked up at him. "Isn't it?" Her guilt said that yes, it was. Savannah's death and so many others.

"You aren't the one doing the killing."

"In Boston, that didn't matter." So many people had come at her. Bricks had been thrown through her windows. Threatening phone calls had come constantly. She'd been given police protection because of the death threats.

Then, finally, she'd had to take on a new life in order to escape.

"This isn't Boston. Everything is different now. Everything." There was a deeper note in his voice, one she couldn't quite interpret.

She stared into his eyes and wanted to believe what Dane was saying. She wanted it so badly, but for three years she'd felt like she was running from death.

A girl could run for only so long.

"I'm tired." The confession slipped from her. It was the truth, and she wasn't just talking about being tired of running.

His eyes narrowed.

Tired of running. Of looking over her shoulder. Of jumping at every creak and rustle.

And mostly tired of not living. Of watching everyone else around her be happy and fall in love and get married and have their kids.

She'd watched them all. Life had pa.s.sed her by. She'd finally forced herself to date again, with Trent, but that just hadn't worked. She hadn't wanted him.

When Trent touched her, she tensed. She got too nervous and anxious, the way she did with nearly every man who came close to her.

Every man except Detective Dane Black.

Her gaze slid over him.

He wasn't cla.s.sically handsome, she knew that. He was big and muscled. Strong. He still had his holster on-she could see the outline of his weapon. He was a dangerous man, with a dangerous job.

But he made her feel safe.

When no one else-not even Ross-had been able to make her feel that way.

"Be careful." Dane's words were low.

Her gaze jerked back up to his face.

"There are some lines that you might not want to cross."

She felt her cheeks heat, and she wondered just what her expression had given away. This was the point where she should take a few steps back. Put some distance between them.

Go in her bedroom. Lock the door.

But she couldn't move.

"Sometimes," she whispered, "I feel like my life ended three years ago."

"It didn't."

He wasn't understanding. She'd been going through the motions for so many months. Thirty-six, to be exact. Pretending to live while her body was encased in ice.

She didn't want to pretend anymore. Valentine was back. This time he might come after her. She didn't want to die knowing only fear and pain.

Katherine wanted life.

She wanted Dane.

Her breath seemed to burn in her lungs as she forced herself to move closer to him. "You're staying here all night?"

He nodded. His gaze was hooded, and she didn't want him to look at her that way. She wanted to stare into his blue eyes and see need, l.u.s.t, staring back at her.

She reached out and touched his chest. Her fingers were trembling, but maybe he wouldn't notice that.

"What are you doing?" Dane asked carefully.

If he had to ask, then she must be doing this wrong. She was rusty. Katherine swallowed and grabbed onto her courage as tightly as she could. "I was going to kiss you."

"Why?"

She didn't back down. "Because I want to." Then, since she wanted to be honest with him, Katherine confessed. "Because I don't want to die regretting that I didn't live."

"You aren't dying."

Amy Evans sure hadn't woken up that day thinking she'd die either.

"Will we break rules by kissing?" She offered him a smile that felt far too forced. "Fraternizing with a suspect? Is that against PD rules?"

"No." A stark pause as his gaze swept over her. "You're not a suspect."

Good to know.

"But you need to realize..." His voice had deepened. His fingers pressed a bit harder into her shoulders. "I might not stop with just a kiss."

She wanted to forget control and care and death and just live for a while. His chest was rock-hard beneath her touch. "And I might not want you to stop."

"Katherine..." Her name was a growl of l.u.s.t. That same l.u.s.t was in his gaze because he'd finally dropped his mask. Yes. That was what she needed to see. She needed to be wanted. Desired.

Just a man and a woman. That was what she wanted. In the next instant, his hands were on her. His mouth was on hers. Not a gentle, seeking kiss. Hot. Demanding.

At the first touch of his lips on hers, a dam seemed to explode within her. All of the needs she'd bottled up came cras.h.i.+ng through her control. Her lips parted for him, and his tongue thrust inside her mouth.

She moaned, a soft, hungry sound. His hands slid down to hold her hips. Warm, strong hands, and his mouth...

The detective knew how to kiss.

She stood on her toes as she leaned into him. Her hands had curled around his shoulders and she was holding him tight. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were aching, the nipples tightening to hard peaks. She couldn't get close enough to him. Katherine knew she needed so much more than just a kiss.

Then he was lifting her up. Their mouths broke apart and she sucked in a sharp gasp of air. He sat her on the countertop and slid between her legs. His mouth was on her neck. Licking. Sucking the skin. Lightly biting the flesh.

A sensual current of energy seemed to pulse through her body. Her nails dug into his s.h.i.+rt. I want the s.h.i.+rt gone.

Her hands fumbled and slid under the material. Then she was touching his skin. Feeling the faint curl of hair on his chest. Feeling all of those s.e.xy muscles. Hot flesh.

She tossed his s.h.i.+rt to the floor.

His fingers were on her thighs. They seemed to brand her through her jeans. Far hotter than the coffee, his touch singed her.

It hadn't been like this for her before. She hadn't wanted- Katherine stiffened.

Don't think about before.

"Stay with me," Dane ordered her as his head lifted. His blue gaze was so intense, heated with desire. "Stay with me." Softer now. His lips took hers again. His tongue pushed into her mouth. His hand slid between her legs, to the juncture of her thighs. He stroked her lightly through the jeans.

Just think of Dane. Only Dane. Nothing else. No one else.

She didn't want nightmares to take this pleasure away.

Dane. She kissed him back. Slid her tongue against his. Nibbled on his lip. Sucked the small wound she'd made. Her legs rose and curled around his hips.

He kept stroking her through the fabric of her jeans, his touch growing harder. She wanted to arch against him, to push and demand more, but she didn't want the moment to end. This was the closest she'd come to actually feeling normal in- She stopped the thought immediately.

Only Dane.

His lips lifted from hers. "Let's make the nightmares go away."

Yes, please. She was ready to shove those nightmares in a dark closet and padlock the door.

Dane eased back. "I want you naked."

She wanted him the same way.

"I'm not a gentle lover."

He seemed to be.

"I like s.e.x wild and hot."

Sounded good to her.

"And you...you need more."

But Katherine shook her head. Didn't he get it? "What I need right now is you."

"Then baby, you've got me."

At first, she thought they might make love right there. But he pulled her off the counter. Led her through the kitchen.

Then it was her turn to lead. Up the stairs. To the room on the right. Katherine made sure to turn off the lights when she slipped into her room. She didn't want him to see her eyes...or her scars.

Not yet. For now, she wanted this to be only about desire. A man and a woman.

Nothing more.

She kicked off her shoes. Undressed with hurried, so-not-s.e.xy moves. But in the dark, he couldn't see her clumsiness. He wouldn't see her stumbling around or notice her shaking hands.

He'd just see her shadow. The way that Katherine could see his shadow. A big, solid form filling the doorway.

Then he was heading toward her. Slow steps. She climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers back. "Um, do you want-"

"Just you." He kissed her again. "Just. You."

He was naked. Warm and solid and surrounding her. Part of her wanted to pull away, because, suddenly, this was too much. He was too much.

The whispers of the past tried to come for her once more.

"Tell me what you like."

His voice quieted the whispers.

"You." Her instant response. And it was true. There was something about him that got to her. An instinctive response.

He laughed lightly, and Katherine had the feeling that she'd caught him by surprise. She also liked his laugh. It sounded warm. A little husky.

"I like you too, Katherine." His fingers skimmed down her shoulder. Slid down to her wrist. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist. "But I want to know what gives you pleasure."

Pleasure was skating through her right then. A hum of pleasure because she'd felt the rasp of his tongue against her skin and her madly beating pulse.