She moved slowly toward the front door and looked through the glass. Alex’s stern gaze lifted to hers, as if he knew she was there. He looked tired, his features drawn.

She leaned closer to the door, her fingers poised over the dead bolt. “Alex?”

“Yes. And I’m alone.”

With a trembling hand, she turned the dead bolt and opened the door.

His gaze roamed over her. “May I come in?”

“Sure.” She stepped aside and caught the barest hint of his scent as he passed. “You’re looking a little rough.”

“It’s been a long night and day.”

She closed the door and locked it, double-checking the door handle with a twist of her wrist. If Philip was listening now, he’d be furious that she had a man alone in her place. Good. Let him get an earful. “Did you get my text?”

“I did. I spoke to Gail. I just missed you at the clinic. There’s not much she can tell me about her guy.”

“No. She thinks I’m crazy now for sounding the alarm.”

“Better crazy than dead.”

“Come on in. Sit down. God, you must be sore. Can I get you something to eat? Coffee?”

Carefully, he tugged off his jacket and hung it on the peg beside hers. His gait was almost even, but she noticed it wasn’t as fluid as it was when he ran. “I just made coffee.”

“I’d love a cup of coffee.”

“I can pop a pizza in the oven.”

“That would be great.”

She went into the kitchen to put the pizza in the oven and pour him a cup of coffee. “How do you take it?”

“Black’s fine.”

She handed him his cup and took a seat beside him on the couch. As he sipped, she reached into the side table for a pencil and pad and wrote in clear block letters: REMEMBER, I FOUND A LISTENING DEVICE. SOMEONE IS LISTENING.

Alex read the note as he sipped and nodded. Many men would have been afraid, branded her too much trouble. In a clear voice, he said, “I think Philip Latimer is in Nashville.”

To think it could be true was one thing. To hear it from Alex added frightening depth and meaning. “You’re sure?”

He settled back on the couch, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He spoke as if they were discussing the recent cold snap. “I think he killed Deidre and a man named Brian Lawrence.”

“Brian Lawrence? Gail’s date was Brian Lawrence. He’s the man who dropped off the dog at the clinic a few days ago and never claimed her. I even called him myself and left him voice-mail messages.”

“Really?”

She nodded her head. “The instant I saw Charlie, I remembered a dog I’d had as a kid. Philip would have known I’d fall for that dog right away.”

“Where’s the dog now?”

“Somewhere safe. I didn’t dare bring her home tonight.”

“You think he’ll strike on the anniversary?”

“I know he will. The date meant a lot to him.”

He set his coffee cup down and reached for her hand. Slowly, he turned it over. Tempted as she was to pull her hand away, she held steady and allowed him to trace the tip of his finger along her palm. A dark frown deepened the lines on his face.

He raised her palm to his lips and kissed it. She closed her eyes, savoring the explosion of warmth that spread through her body. “Very, very brave.”

“I’m afraid. All the time, I expect him to return. I hate that.”

“Philip thinks he’s in charge of the game. He’s not. You are. I am.”

She wanted to believe, but even now, with the two of them alone, they both sensed Philip listening. Lurking.

Having Alex this close gave her a sense of courage. She’d wanted to touch him and kiss him since the first time he’d asked her out. But fear had kept her at bay. No more. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

“I told you, it’s bugged. He’ll hear us,” she whispered.

He cupped her face. “I know.”

“You know he’ll come after you again.”

“That’s the plan.”

For her, what was happening between them was based on need. Need for feeling. Need for pleasure. For revenge. “He’ll be enraged,” she whispered in his ear.

He kissed her a second time, injecting a passion that surprised and thrilled her. “And he’ll make a mistake. And when he does that, I’ll be there.”

He kissed her hand again and then rose from the couch. She led him to the bedroom, toward the bed. He cupped her face again, kissing her, making her forget everything but him.

When they’d first met, she’d been afraid of him. She’d recognized the intensity in his gaze and mistaken it for Philip’s. Alex possessed a darkness, but there was also tenderness in his soul, a need for truth and knowledge.

She leaned in and kissed him, slowly unfastening the buttons on his shirt. When she pushed it over his shoulders, his muscles flinched, and she saw the swath of dark bruises that skimmed along his rib cage. Gently, she touched it with her fingertips. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve taken a lick.” Again, he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed the tips. She stepped back, her gaze locked on his as she pulled off her shirt and exposed her naked scars to his gaze. She tensed as she waited for him to see only the scars, but his gaze settled on her breasts seconds before he cupped them in his hands. “So pretty.”

She arched into him, and all the self-consciousness evaporated in the heat of this moment.

He traced the underside of one breast with his finger. Energy shot through her body, and when he gently squeezed her nipple, she sucked in a breath.

She gently touched the bruise on his side, tracing the reds and blues with her fingertip. She knelt down and kissed the bruise.

When she reached for his belt buckle, he hissed in a breath. “Is this business or pleasure?”

He kissed her. “All pleasure.”

She unzipped his pants and slid her hand against him. The moan that rumbled in his chest sounded part animal, and she knew under the cool exterior beat a primitive heart.

When she took him in her mouth, he threaded his fingers through her hair. Again he moaned, closing his eyes and dropping back his head. She savored this womanly power.

Soon, both were naked and on her bed. She straddled above him, tracking her fingertips gently over his bruised ribs. He tensed but didn’t ask her to stop.

His finger grazed the scar on her belly. Anger flashed across his gaze, so quickly she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. He traced his fingers lower, and she forgot about shame or worry. She moaned his name and gave in to the sensation.

He sat in the car, listening to the transponder. His hands gripped the steering wheel as Leah called out another man’s name as she climaxed. He’d thought back to when he’d listened to Deidre make love to another man. She’d moaned and cooed like a dog in heat.

He reached for the knife in his pocket, flipped it open, and jabbed the razor-sharp tip into the seat. Leather tore as he slid the blade over the seat cushion. When the blade reached the seatback, he lifted it and drove it into the seat again. As it ripped, he imagined it was skin and muscle.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Wednesday, January 25, 6 A.M.

When Leah awoke, sunshine streamed in through the windows. Her body was relaxed, liquid, and a strong sense of hope burned inside her. It had been the worst day of her life four years ago, and today it was one of the best.

When she rolled onto her side, she found Alex lying still as a stone on his back. His breathing was slow, but a tension rippling over his muscles suggested he was not asleep.

“What’re you thinking?” she asked.

A sigh shuddered through him as he reluctantly surrendered the peace of the moment. “About today.” He opened his eyes and wincing rolled on his side to face her. “I’ve been running through scenarios, trying to figure out what Philip will do. So many unknown variables.”