The Innocent: FBI Psychics, Book 2

by Shiloh Walker

  “And what if she is never…not fragile?” he demanded, his eyes stormy and dark.

  Jay stared at him. “The girl who was able to survive for two months in hell, alone, is too strong to not pull through this.”

  “You…” He shook his head, looking away. “You can’t know that.”

  “Yes. I can. I’ve seen the broken ones. Your daughter isn’t broken.” Jay looked down at her boots. “She’s bruised and battered, and she’s going to have a long fight ahead of her to deal with the guilt and all the memories, but she’ll get there.”

  His silence stretched out, long and heavy. When she finally looked up at him, his gaze was shuttered. “The guilt.”

  Jay inclined her head. “Yes. You and I both know that taking a life is nothing to be taken lightly. But she has three innocent lives that lie between her and Stephen Mays. Now, Mays is the one responsible—he turned her into a weapon, primed and ready to fire. But she was the weapon. She knows it.” Jay paused. “I know it…and so do you. You can’t help her if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

  When he said nothing else, she pushed away from the car.

  She paused by him, rose up on her toes. It felt like her heart was going to crack, just split straight down the middle with oozing, bitter blood spilling out of it. Then it would wither, turning into dust before the wind blew it away. In the end, there would be nothing of her heart that remained, save for a few bitter and awful and wonderful memories.

  Pressing her lips to his cheek, she murmured, “She’ll get better. She just needs you. And you’ll get better…if you let yourself. Try to let yourself, Linc. Find a life beyond this.”

  She hoped he would.

  It would be lousy if both of them were trapped in some sort of holding pattern, forever caught in this twilight.

  The scent of him rushed in and the need, the love she had for him swamped her. Part of her wished—the small, selfish part of her—that she’d stayed in Texas. If she’d stayed, she’d never have known just what it was she was missing. She’d already known she was falling in love with him and it had been like losing a limb when he cut her out of his life. If she hadn’t come here, hadn’t learned just what she was missing out on—not just the physical contact, so hard for her to find, but that connection…

  Swallowing, she eased back down and forced a smile.

  She’d lock herself in one of the meditation rooms, find some peace, some quiet.

  Then—

  Then what?

  She was walking away.

  As she took a step away, he shot out a hand, snagged the back of her jeans and jerked her to a stop.

  “A kiss good-bye?”

  She whipped around, twisting out of his hold and glaring at him.

  “What?”

  He advanced on her. “What was that?” he asked, growling at her. “Some sort of good-bye kiss? Is that what that was?”

  “You already said good-bye,” she pointed out. She inclined her chin. “That was just—”

  He caught her chin in his hand. “I take it back.”

  She gaped at him. “You take it back?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “You can’t just take it back. What if I don’t want you now?”

  He curved his free hand over her hip. “Is that what you’re saying?” Through the thin material of the skin-tight black shirt she wore, he could feel her. Her skin was hot, all but scalding him. And a fine buzz of energy seemed to snap between them. With his free hand, he cupped her face, brushed his thumb over her lower lip, watched as her green eyes clouded. “You don’t want me now.”

  He bent, replaced his thumb with his mouth and she opened for him, her mouth a sweet, welcoming wonder. He licked at her, shuddered as she sucked at his tongue. Her arms came around his waist, her hands pushing under his shirt, her nails raking across his skin. Pulling back just a breath, he whispered, “If that’s your way of showing that you don’t want me, I can’t wait to see how you act when you do want me.”

  She shoved at him and put a few feet between them. “You arrogant son of a bitch.”

  As she started to pace, he resisted the urge to pull her back against him.

  Abruptly, she stopped and whirled around, glaring at him. “You think I’m a fucking toy? You can push me away, then pull me back whenever it suits you?”

  “You always suit me.” He rubbed his hands down his face and turned away, swearing under his breath. “Do you have any idea what a punch in the gut it was to have you show up when you did? If you had come to me any other time, I would have practically been begging you to stay. But…fuck. Everything in my life was a nightmare. My life was over, Jay. As it is…” He looked past her to the building where he’d left his daughter behind. Again. “It’s never going to be the same. I don’t know how I’m going to help her through this, and a few weeks ago, I don’t know if I could have looked at the rest of my life and seen anything but…” He stopped, laughed sourly. “I don’t think I could have looked at the rest of my life. I was having a hard time looking past the next day. I didn’t want to drag you down a few months ago when the only thing on my mind was revenge—and I won’t apologize for that. If you were any other woman, I don’t know if I could stand before you now and say I want to take a chance. But you are you…you understand what…you get Dee…Del. You get it.”

  Jay stared at him. “I get it.” She came to him, reached up and curled a fist in his shirt. “I won’t say I’m okay with why you pushed me away the first time.” Then she let go of his shirt long enough to thump him in the chest. “I will say you are an ass for pushing me away the past few weeks.”

  He caught her fist, lifted it to his lips. “I’m an ass. But I had to work it through. You know that.”

  Jay sighed. Pressed her head to his chest. “Yeah. I get that.”

  Slowly, he curled his arm around her. “So…are we going to do this? Give it a shot?”

  “Hell no.” She lifted her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’re going to do this. We’ll make it work…come Hell or high water. After all, considering what we had to go through just to get to here, everything else should be easy.”

  “Hmmm.” He dipped his head, pressed his lips to hers. “Good point.”

  About the Author

  Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing just about every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full-time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and paranormal romance, and urban fantasy under the name J.C. Daniels. For more about Shiloh Walker, please visit her website: www.shilohwalker.com.

  Also, check her out on Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorshilohwalker and Twitter: www.twitter.com/shilohwalker.

  Look for these titles by Shiloh Walker

  Now Available:

  Talking with the Dead

  Always Yours

  For the Love of Jazz

  Beautiful Girl

  Vicious Vixen

  Playing for Keeps

  My Lady

  The Redeeming

  No Longer Mine

  A Forever Kind of Love

  The Hunters

  The Huntress

  Hunter’s Pride

  Malachi

  Hunter’s Edge

  Grimm’s Circle

  Candy Houses

  No Prince Charming

  Crazed Hearts

  I Thought It Was You

  Tarnished Knight

  Locked in Silence

  Grimm Tidings

  Blind Destiny

  Some scars cut right to the heart.

  Beautiful Scars

  © 2013 Shiloh Walker

  Three years after her divorce, Chaili Bennett is over her ex. Her only problem now? Of the few men she’s dated since, no one “gets” her. Not like Marc Archer—a man who’s never seen her as
more than a friend.

  Marc Archer needs a date for a last-minute charity event, and he needs it fast. Not that women aren’t throwing themselves at his world-famous face and body, but sometimes it’s less messy—as in less personal—to use his sister Shera’s escort service.

  The last woman on earth Marc expects to see in his sister’s office is Chaili. There’s something different about her, but nothing pleases him more when Shera sets them up. That simple date quickly evolves into much more as they both discover the other fills a deep, secret need they’ve shared with no one else.

  Though Chaili insists one night is all she wants, Marc isn’t walking away now. Not until he discovers what put the shadows in her eyes. And the scars on her soul.

  Warning: This book involves soulful songs, soulful sex, a soulful singer and lots of heartbreak. But no worries, there’s a happy ever after.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Beautiful Scars:

  He could have kept on playing, just for her. Forever. He’d forgotten how amazing it was to do this. Playing for himself was always good. Playing for his fans…yeah, he loved that.

  But there was something magic about sitting there in the dark and playing for her.

  It was almost like he could talk to her through the music, and even though she said nothing back, he could hear her answer just in the way she moved, the way she smiled.

  And it had always been like this, he realized.

  Chaili seemed to find almost the same pleasure in the music that he did.

  That same little smile bowed her pretty mouth up and she swayed, one hand curled around the wine glass, the other tapping out a rhythm on her thigh.

  He had an image of catching the hem of her skirt. Pushing it up. Okay…that wasn’t anything that had happened before tonight. But he had a feeling he’d be thinking hot and dirty thoughts about her for a long, long time after this. Hell, he was wondering why he hadn’t done it before.

  Closing his eyes, he tried to focus back on the music, but he couldn’t block her out.

  It was all there, twining through his mind. The raw, powerful vibe of the music. The song. The image of his hands on her thighs. Pushing that pretty skirt up. Catching the silken hose she wore and dragging them down, her panties…leaving her naked under that skirt. Then he’d play a little while longer. Just a little while, as he thought about her being naked under that elegant little white dress.

  Get a grip, Marc. Or you’re going to lose it before you even get started…

  Get started. Was he actually thinking of trying to do this…

  Hell, yes.

  He must have lost his mind somewhere in the time he’d seen her standing in the office of Escortè and when he’d started playing for her back at the party, but he had every intention of having a taste of her. Just once, he thought. They were friends, right? They could have a night of nice, friendly sex and then go back to being friends…

  Yes, because that had worked so well before.

  Stop it, man. This isn’t Lily. It won’t happen that way. And if you can’t get that through your head, you need to just take her home now, he told himself.

  No. She wasn’t Lily.

  And he’d be damned if he took her home just yet. Unless that was what she wanted.

  Clearing his throat, he took the glass of wine from her. “Ah…are you wanting to head home or you wanna hang around a while?”

  She slid him a smile as she took the glass of wine back. “Hey, you played me one song. That does not a concert make.”

  Hot damn.

  “‘Walking in Memphis’?”

  She just smiled.

  He rolled into it, watching her a little closer this time. She was looking at his hands again. Her face was flushed, although he didn’t think it was the wine. He’d had as much as she and it was just the one bottle. Couldn’t just be the wine, right?

  She all but groaned as he launched into the one part that got to her, every damn time, right near the end.

  His voice dropped, lower, rougher.

  A shudder went through her and she grabbed the glass of wine, drank it down. They’d emptied the bottle and she wished she could blame the heat burning inside her on the wine, but it wasn’t that. It was him. Always him—

  “What is it about you and that song?”

  As the music faded, she jerked her head up, saw him staring at her.

  She tried to shrug. It wasn’t the song, it was him. Something about the way he sang it, hell, the way he sang anything… She licked her lips and stared off into the distance, trying to figure out the right way to say something that wasn’t a lie, but didn’t leave her stripped bare.

  A harsh groan reached her ears.

  Startled, she looked at him, realized he was staring at her mouth.

  Two seconds later, he was reaching for her.

  Stunned, she couldn’t think. As his lips covered hers, she just couldn’t think.

  Marc was kissing her.

  Damn it.

  Marc was kissing her—

  Had she drank more wine than she’d thought?

  “Open your mouth,” he snarled against her lips, a harsh, urgent command in his voice. “Give me your mouth.”

  Dazed, she did just that, opened for him.

  His arms came around her as his tongue stroked across the bottom of her lip, slowly, seductively…teasingly. Oh, hell. She was in trouble. Big, big trouble…

  And she didn’t plan on doing anything to stop it, either. Not when he broke his mouth away to brush a line of stinging, hot kisses down her neck to her shoulder. Not when he stroked a hand up her thigh, the other cupping the back of her head.

  Alarm, though, started to sound when he toyed with the fastening of her dress—alarm that would give way to terror if she let it.

  Refusing to let that happen, she wiggled around until she was straddling his lap, her arms looped around his shoulders. Through the bodice of her dress, she felt the warmth of his breath, and when he pressed his mouth to her breastbone, she figured she needed to call a stop to this here and now. He didn’t know and she just couldn’t…

  “Chaili…fuck, what have you got on under this skirt?”

  When all eyes are on you, there’s nowhere to run…except the truth.

  Behind Blue Eyes

  © 2010 T.L. Schaefer

  Crime-scene photographer Sara Covington hides behind her camera from the otherworldly ability that’s caused her nothing but grief her whole life. Yet denial doesn’t protect her when she runs across a serial killer with an aural signature she’s never encountered.

  Suddenly she’s without a job and with nowhere to turn…except to an enigmatic, sexy-as-hell detective with a disquieting talent for seeing right through her defenses.

  Brian Roney’s fascination with Sara compels him to bring her in on the case that ultimately gets her fired. Even though he senses her mutual attraction, something holds her back from stepping into his arms. He’s as determined to find out why she’s pushing him away as he is to keep her safe.

  When the killer strikes again, Sara realizes the only way to stop the madman is come clean about her painful past—and embrace the gift she has so long denied. Before the grisly trail of bodies leads right to her doorstep.

  Warning: A sexy alpha cop, a heroine with a past (and super spidey sense) and a maniac on the loose…what’s not to love?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Behind Blue Eyes:

  With a weary sigh, Brian finally stood. “The uniform will stay right where he’s at until we know Burke has moved on to another city. It’s probably a waste of manpower, but we’ve got to be sure.”

  I walked him to the door, admitting to myself he wasn’t going to make it over the threshold. My quotient for being scared was up, and I wanted Brian Roney…bad. Did I feel guilty about using him for my own satisfaction? Yeah, a bit, but I could guarantee he’d leave here smiling. So I took the step I’d been anticipating—and denying—since the day I met him.

  He leaned in for a
brief kiss, and I latched on with everything inside me. He let out a surprised grunt, then returned my passion, his tongue teasing mine as his hands grasped my hips and pulled me close.

  I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him for all I was worth, running my fingers through the hair at his nape.

  “Don’t send me home, Sara,” he breathed against my lips, moved down, caressed my cheek, then the underside of my jaw with tender, hot kisses.

  “I’m not.” My breath hitched. My nipples pebbled against his strong, broad chest.

  He drew back and searched my eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Damned straight.” I met his gaze as I moved a hand down, tracing the vee his shirt made.

  And still he hesitated. Could I be so lucky? “Stop thinking so hard about it.” I brushed my lips across his before pulling back. “You’ve got condoms, right?”

  He chuckled, back in his own happy space. “Let’s put it this way… I’ve had them in my pocket since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  My breath caught. A girl didn’t need much more than that, now did she?

  I grinned and returned for a kiss…a repeat of the tease we’d shared far too often. He met me stroke for stroke, his tongue tangling with mine. The sensation lit a trail of fire that streaked across my body, bringing my nipples to an almost painful point, and low, sensual heat coiling in my core. This was going to be so very good.

  I stood on my tiptoes so I could meet him mouth-to-mouth, unrestrained, and it was everything I’d remembered and fantasized about on the plane, in the hotel room. And yes, before that. He took my mouth wholly, as if kissing me could sustain him for the rest of his life. It was heady, and the moment I thought I had him pegged, he broke away and turned me so I couldn’t see him. He pulled me tight against him, and banded his arms around me from behind, his erection a long, hard promise of strength and pleasure against my back. His hands cupped my breasts, learning their weight and fullness. I melted against him, heart thumping in my chest, my breath coming in sharp little pants, and I lifted my arms, looping them around his neck, allowing him free access.