by Cynthia Eden
He turned on the lamp near him, and more light spilled across the room.
“I’ve worked with the EOD since then. The agents do their missions, and like Mercer said, we save lives.”
It wasn’t that simple. “One of the agents is taking lives.”
He paced toward her. “And it’s our job to stop him. I didn’t expect you to get involved. You were my neighbor. The sexy girl who slipped into my fantasies. I’d known only blood and death until you.” He swallowed. “Then you were in my world, looking so beautiful and smelling of lilacs.”
She had lilac body lotion. A gift from Penelope.
“But then I found you at Lockwood’s apartment. You were in the wrong place. Hell, you almost walked right in on me.”
Another piece of the puzzle snapped into place. He’d been in Lockwood’s apartment. “That was why the door was open.” He’d been there, first, before her. “You broke in to that apartment.”
He nodded, and kept coming closer to her. “No one had heard from Lockwood in days. I knew something was wrong, and I had to get inside to him.”
“How did you get out—” Gabrielle began, then stopped because she realized what he’d done. “You scaled the building.”
Another nod. “The same way that the killer did.”
Because they were the same—the same training, the same deadly instincts.
“Everything changed when you got involved,” he said again. “Protecting you became a priority for me. I only called the EOD in because I didn’t have a choice. I knew the killer had you in his sights—after that phone call, how could there be any doubt? It was too risky for you to go off alone.”
“You thought I was going to blow your cover. You thought—”
“I thought that if anything happened to you, I’d go crazy.” He was right in front of her. Not touching her, but seeming to surround her.
She shook her head. “You don’t have to paint some fake story about how you feel, okay? You had orders. You had—”
“I’d had you,” he told her bluntly. The burn in her cheeks got even worse. “I’d had you, and there was no going back. It wasn’t about one night—I want more than that from you. I want a hell of a lot more.”
The first time she’d met him, Gabrielle had known that he was out of her league. Too intense. Too fierce.
And, damn him, too sexy.
“I’ll have you again,” Cooper said.
Her jaw dropped.
“Because you want me. You’re angry, rightly so, but you still want me.” He took her hand. Put it over his chest. Over the heart that she could feel racing so frantically. “And I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted another woman. The way I feel for you isn’t about a mission. It’s not about anything, but us.”
Was he about to kiss her? She didn’t want him to kiss her. Oh, dang it, she was the liar now. She wanted his mouth more than breath right then, but she was also scared.
Of him.
Of the way he made her feel.
Of making a mistake. I’m already in too deep with him.
“What do I need to do—” his words were a deep, sexy rumble “—to get you back again?”
“I don’t want secrets.” Her words surprised her. She’d meant to pull away from him.
Hadn’t she?
So why was she edging closer? And why did she continue, saying, “I don’t want any lies. I might not have your EOD clearance, but that doesn’t mean you get to jerk me around.” His heart was still racing beneath her touch. Only fair, considering her heart felt as if it would jump out of her chest. “And if we’re partners, really partners, then that means you don’t leave me behind. We work together. We share everything.”
He was staring straight down at her.
She just didn’t want...secrets.
“I should be running from you right now,” Gabrielle said. That would have been the smart thing to do, but her heart wasn’t interested in smart. Her heart just wanted her to be close to him.
He’d gotten past her defenses. He’d gotten to her. She was afraid that she wouldn’t be the same ever again.
“If you ran, I’d follow.” His voice was deeper, sending a shiver over her spine. “I think I might just follow you any place you go.”
Gabrielle couldn’t pull her gaze from his. His stare burned. “Tell me...tell me that you didn’t sleep with me for the case.”
His hands lifted and curled around her hips. They seemed to singe her through her clothes. “I slept with you because you were driving me out of my mind. Fantasies weren’t enough to keep me sane. What happened between us had nothing to do with the case.”
That was good. That was— “If you ever have me handcuffed again, you are going to have some serious trouble on your hands.”
He smiled at her. A smile that reached his eyes and made her heart ache. “Sweetheart, if I handcuff you again, you’ll be in my bed—and trouble will be the last thing I get.”
That was...oh. His mouth took hers. She let go of her fear and her anger because right then, they didn’t matter.
She wasn’t sure how much time they had left together. With the killer out there, there was no way to determine their future.
So she forgot about the future.
She let go of the past.
Gabrielle just held on to him.
His tongue thrust into her mouth. His hands curled around her hips and lifted her up against the hard bulge of his arousal. She met him, kissing him back with a fierce desire that grew and grew within her.
She’d never been the kind of girl to get swept off her feet...
Cooper raised her higher in his arms.
...until now.
He took a few steps, and her back hit the wall. He didn’t release her. He kept her pinned there, and she twisted, arching against his hips.
Need rose to a feverish pitch within her as his mouth trailed down her neck. He licked her, kissed the curve of her throat. Had her gasping and digging her nails into his shoulders.
“I can’t get enough of you.” One of his hands yanked her shirt over her head. He held her easily. Sometimes, she forgot just how strong he was. He lifted her a few more inches, and his mouth pressed to the curve of her breast, right above the lace of her bra. “Your scent drives me crazy.”
He was driving her crazy. It hadn’t been like this before. With Lane, the passion had been slow to build. She’d been hesitant, unsure.
There was no room for uncertainty with Cooper. He swept her up into a storm of need. Pleasure already pulsed through her. She wanted him naked. Wanted to wrap her body around him and hold on as tight as she could.
He’d gotten rid of her bra. Those fast fingers of his. His mouth closed around one breast, and desire pierced through her. She curled her legs around his hips.
She hated not being able to touch his skin, so Gabrielle yanked up his shirt.
He helped her toss it across the room. Heat radiated off him. Those hard, rippling muscles. So much power. But he was always so careful with her. So very careful.
And he was making her wait. “Cooper...”
His hand was at the snap of her jeans. The snap popped free, and her zipper hissed down. Then his fingers were pushing inside the material. Pleasure wasn’t just close. He stroked her, caressing her sensitive folds. His fingers drove into her. Pleasure exploded within her at his touch. She jerked against him, caught off guard by the fast rush of her release.
“You’re so damned beautiful.” He carried her into the bedroom. The bed dipped beneath their weight. In moments, he’d finished stripping and their clothes were scattered across the floor.
He took care of the protection, then he came back toward her.
But this time, Gabrielle wanted her chance to explore him.
She p
ushed him back on the bed. Cooper hesitated, frowning at her.
She smiled at him, even as the desire rose once more. Bending forward, she put her knees on either side of Cooper’s body. Her mouth pressed to his throat. When he groaned, and his hands flew up to hold her hips, Gabrielle knew that she’d just found Cooper’s weak spot.
Her tongue licked over his skin. Then she slid down. She explored his chest. Those muscles that just begged to be—
Licked.
She kissed his scars. Gabrielle hated the pain that Cooper had suffered, and as she felt those scars with her fingers and lips, she realized just how close he truly had come to death.
What if he’d really died on that mission? What if I’d never met him?
Her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t want to think of a world without him. He’d come to mean so much to her, so quickly.
She placed another kiss on his scar, on the one right above his hip. Her fingers slid down—
“Enough!” The word was growled. He tumbled her onto her back. Positioned himself between her legs. “Sweetheart, I can’t take any more.”
His fingers threaded through hers as he thrust into her.
She’d found release moments before, but the instant he drove into her, that wonderful friction from his body had her tensing.
Eagerly, she met him. Thrust for thrust. The need spiraled and built. The desire beat between them.
There were no more words. She didn’t have the breath to talk. Their lovemaking was fast and raw and consuming.
Her hips rose to meet him. Her heart raced.
When her release hit her, Gabrielle’s whole body tightened. The pleasure was so intense—rolling over her in endless waves.
Cooper kissed her. He shuddered against her then drove into her core once more.
A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. Nothing had been like that for her before.
Moments passed, and the only sound she heard was the ragged catch of their breaths.
Finally, Cooper’s head lifted. His eyes held hers. “The case has nothing to do with what is happening between us. Right here, right now, it’s only about you and it’s about me.”
She wished that things could stay this way.
Because as she gazed up at him, cloaked in the shadows of the room. Gabrielle realized just why his betrayal had hurt her so much.
And why, even despite the secrets he’d kept, she hadn’t been able to turn away from him.
I’m falling in love with Cooper.
No, not falling.
She was already in love with her secret agent.
His mouth pressed to her cheek. He kissed the tear that she’d shed. And then he held her close.
Fear snaked through her because she liked the way his arms felt around her. She liked it too much.
The case had brought him to her.
Would the case also take him away?
* * *
RACHAEL MANCINI WAS exhausted. She’d just pulled a twenty-hour shift at the EOD’s headquarters, and she was due back on duty at 0900. She shut her apartment door behind her, threw the lock and seriously thought about collapsing right there.
Into a very unglamorous puddle on her floor.
She lifted a weary hand and raked it through her hair. She’d crash in bed. After all, she was about 50 percent sure she could make it to the bedroom. After a few hours of refueling, she’d meet up with Dylan again.
He’d dropped her off, and the team leader had said he’d be back to pick her up so they could head in to the EOD together.
She shuffled away from the door.
Ten minutes later, she was just climbing into the haven of her bed when she heard knocking.
What the hell? She glanced at her clock. No one should be coming to her place at this hour.
Rachel grabbed her gun and padded, barefoot, for the door. She glanced through the peephole.
The Dragon waited on the other side of that door.
Her hands trembled around the weapon.
Thomas “Dragon” Anthony was a martial arts expert. He’d worked with the EOD since she’d been brought on board. The guy was quiet, dangerous—and he made her nervous. She’d heard too many tales about just how deadly he could be.
In the EOD, all of the agents were lethal. But Thomas was in a category all by himself.
She curled her fingers around the weapon and opened the door a few inches. Rachel kept her security chain in place, not that it would do any good at keeping someone like Thomas out.
Not if he wanted in.
“What are you doing here?” Rachel demanded as she kept her gun close.
His golden eyes glittered at her. “I was worried about you. I heard about the profile that’s developing for the killer.”
A profile that indicated the rogue was going after couples, killing one victim to make the other weaker.
“You don’t need to worry about me.” She and Thomas weren’t close. Actually, as far as she knew, no one was close to the Dragon. He didn’t let anyone close. But...
She’d saved his life. On a mission in the Middle East, Rachel had been on the team that pulled Thomas out of his prison. Sure, his captors had been dead by the time she arrived—courtesy of a weaponless Thomas—but he’d been bleeding out from the wounds he’d sustained.
She’d put pressure on the worst wound, had kept that wound closed all during the rough flight to freedom.
Not that Thomas knew about what she’d done. He’d lost consciousness right after takeoff.
“I think you and Dylan could be the next targets,” Thomas said. His voice was deep, rumbling, and completely without any accent.
She blinked at his words, and she made sure her grip on the weapon remained steady. Thomas couldn’t see her gun, but if he made a move toward her, she’d have it up in an instant.
After what had happened to the other EOD deaths, she wasn’t going to trust anyone—
Except Dylan.
“You’re wrong,” she heard herself say. “We aren’t a couple. We wouldn’t come up on the guy’s radar.”
Thomas shook his head. “I see, so others see. I wanted to warn you.”
Adrenaline pumped through her. She wasn’t exactly feeling sleepy any longer. “You could have just called me.”
His hands were fisted. A show of emotion, unusual for Thomas. “They’re going to think it’s me,” he said softly.
Alarms were going off in her head.
“I lost her...my second mission. I lost her, and when the profiler digs through our files, she’s going to think it’s me.” His breath heaved out. “It isn’t.”
“You need to talk to Noelle—”
“Warning you was priority.”
But why hadn’t he called?
His eyes glittered at her. “Can I come in?”
No way. “We can talk in the morning.” They just had a bit of the waning night left. “I’ll be at headquarters by 0900.”
He leaned toward her. “You have to be careful—”
Rachel lifted her gun. “I am.”
Every minute. Every moment.
“I’m going to ask you again,” Rachel murmured. “Why didn’t you just call me?”
He blinked. “I did. You didn’t answer. That’s why I was so worried. You fit the rogue’s profile—I had to warn you.”
She didn’t buy his story. “You warned me. Now, we’ll talk more tomorrow.” Her immediate plans included a fast and frantic late-night call to Dylan. He needed to know about this little visit.
Thomas nodded. “Stay safe, Mancini.” After one more long look at her, he turned away.
She didn’t move. Not until she saw him head down the stairs.
Then she locked her door. Double-checked tho
se locks. She put the gun down on the end table and hurried back into her bedroom to find her phone.
She grabbed it from her purse. Of course, it was working, it was—
Dead.
Rachel frowned. She’d charged the phone earlier. It should be fine. Damn it. She needed to contact Dylan, but she didn’t have a landline, just her cell.
The floor creaked behind her.
Rachel froze.
She knew every inch of her apartment and just where to step for those familiar creaks and squeaks to sound. Because she knew the place so well, Rachel realized that someone was standing five feet behind her. Right inside the doorway.
The lights flashed off in her bedroom.
She didn’t waste time screaming. Rachel turned and went in for the attack.
Chapter Eleven
Dylan Foxx knew that he shouldn’t be hanging around Rachel’s place.
He was starting to hit stalker territory.
He’d dropped her off thirty minutes ago. He’d left...but come back.
He’d learned about the profile that Agent Evers was working up—she thought the rogue was attacking couples. Eliminating the woman first then going after her lover.
That profile had made him worried.
He and Rachel weren’t lovers, but...
...but I wish we were.
He’d wanted Rachel for years. Keeping his distance from her was impossible for him. He knew that he was too protective of her, that he got too close whenever she was near.
What if someone else had noticed that closeness, too?
What if the desire he felt for her caused Rachel to be put in danger?
His growing fear had driven him back to her place. It had made him lurk in the shadows of her apartment because he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
He looked down at his phone. Maybe he should give her a call, just in case.