“Perhaps.” Malloy’s gaze probed Josie’s eyes as he addressed Shane. “You’re estranged and she has moved on. Statistically, it’s possible the pixie hired someone to take care of you.” He smiled. “No offense, ma’am.”
She coughed out a laugh. “None taken, Detective. Though I assure you, if I wanted Shane dead, I’d do it myself.” He’d tried to teach her some dangerous skills during their brief marriage, but she’d never had cause to use them.
The detective’s eyes narrowed.
Shane chuckled even deeper. “Let’s go, angel.”
She allowed him to tug her from the room. They passed the uniformed cop and the many rooms, Shane’s large form dwarfing her in a way she’d forgotten, in a way that made her feel safe—protected—and yet so vulnerable. The detective’s concern filtered through her thoughts. Shane was dangerous before. What if he was even more so now? Where had he been the last two years? She didn’t know him anymore. Heck, she’d never known him.
Maybe she wasn’t so safe.
However, as the exit doors came into view, her stride sped up in an effort to escape the hospital. For her first visit, when she was seven, she’d been brought in by a foster parent who had hurt her. The second time, when she’d turned nine, she’d been carried in by a foster parent trying to save her. Different experiences, yet the result had been the same. She’d ultimately ended up alone.
Here she was again, leaving the hospital with someone who would soon leave. He’d abandoned her once. No matter how quickly her heart had leaped when she’d seen him again, or how lost he seemed right now, he wouldn’t stay.
Shane wasn’t a guy who stuck around.
He paused near the sliding glass exit doors, turning her to face him, tipping her chin up with one knuckle. The breadth of his shoulders, the narrowness of his waist, the strength bunched along his muscles promised power and danger. Warmth and the masculine scent of heated cedar wafted her way. “So, wife. Have you slept with this boyfriend of yours?”
Chapter 2
His wife’s small bicep tightened in his grasp, and those incredible eyes darkened to violet, betraying her intent to step back. Shane grasped her chin to hold her in place, searching for an answer he wasn’t sure he deserved.
She gave him a glare, and a light blush stole cross her fine cheekbones but didn’t reach the pert nose he had the oddest urge to kiss. “My sex life is none of your business.”
His eyelids lowered. “Ah, darlin’,” he breathed out, “we both know that’s not true.” He raised his hand from her chin to slide his thumb over her full bottom lip and pricked with pleasure as she drew a sharp breath. His brain may not remember her, but his body thrummed with the need to draw the blood of any man who’d dared touch her.
As they paused at the glass doors of the hospital in the day’s dusk, Shane cataloged the quiet streetscape. Thirty-five vehicles sat in the lot, and three businesses lined the other street: one selling food, one a pawn shop with possible weapons, and one a mom-and-pop convenience store. There was a good probability the store had a shotgun near the register. A row of apartments stood above the businesses, probably three. Statistically, at least one residence might have a weapon.
How did he know that? Sudden claustrophobia had him struggling to appear normal, even while he tilted his head to hear… something. Anything. But all sounds arrived muffled, as if his head were under water.
So he concentrated on the soft skin beneath his rough hand. Josie had a classic face, well-defined cheekbones, and delicate features. Yet her chin held a stubbornness that intrigued as much as it challenged him.
Josie’s teeth ground together. “I don’t know how badly you’re hurt, but if you don’t release me, I’m going to kick your ass.”
His quick smile felt rusty, as if the muscles hadn’t been used in far too long. Two years maybe—since she left him?
With a shrug, he let go, straightened, and stepped back. Every slight movement dug sharp needles into his skull. Lights flashed behind his eyes from the pain. “I need to know. Are you scared of me?” He didn’t know himself. Would he hurt her? The idea that he’d harm such a tiny, defenseless woman was like a punch to the gut. Who the hell was he?
She arched one delicate eyebrow. “If you’re asking if you abuse women, the answer is no. If you’re asking if you’re an asshole, the answer is yes.”
He huffed a laugh, barely holding back a wince as his eyes sparked agony. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“Anytime.” She tossed a thick blond strand over her shoulder and shoved open the exit door to the cool night air. “You might as well come on.”