She and Hardiman were supposed to do a prisoner exchange. As one of the sheriff’s deputies in a dusty town outside Vegas, Naya had had the bad luck to arrest Ahmed “Sneezy” McGee—which meant she’d been automatically elected to transport him to Vegas where he was wanted for check fraud. Worse, she had to hand him over to her arch-nemesis Brick Hardiman, the Vegas detective on Sneezy’s case.
The night before, Naya had driven Sneezy to Vegas and checked into this hotel. She remembered hauling him to a little diner for dinner, and then—nothing.
Maybe he was in the bathroom. She prayed to every god and goddess she could think of, trying to ignore that the second bed was still neatly made. He had to be in the bathroom. If not, then her career was over. Hardiman was a hard case, and he had it in for her. If he found out she'd lost a prisoner, he'd bring her down himself.
Yet she knew without looking that the water was off. As a naiad, she had a special relationship with water, and she could tell there wasn’t any running in the bathroom—not the sink, not the shower, not the toilet.
She looked anyway, but wasn’t surprised to find the room dark. When she flicked on the lights, any hope that Sneezy might be hiding in the corner fled. The bathroom looked as stale and tan as the bedroom.
All except for two vials sitting on the edge of the sink. Naya picked them up. One vial was empty, a lime green stain on the inside. The other held a deep purple liquid that sparkled when she held it up to the light.
What the hell? Naya didn’t bother much with magic. The simple stuff didn’t work on her, since she was magical herself. And the strong magic—well, it was better for everyone to steer clear of the stuff. So why in Gaia’s name would she have two vials of what had to be potions sitting in her bathroom?
Someone pounded on the door and she nearly dropped the vials. She shoved the stopper into the empty one—just in case something lingered inside—and stuck them both in her pocket. As she turned toward the door, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and stopped.
When had she gone swimming?
Her clothes—from yesterday—were wrinkled and had clearly been doused. Her hair also looked like she’d had a swim and hadn’t bothered to so much as run a brush through it afterward. Her dark brown tresses were snarled, the hair on one side of her head flattened where she must have slept on it.
“Krena!” Hardiman’s voice came through the door along with more pounding. “Open up.”
She couldn’t let Hardiman see her like this. And she couldn’t even give him Sneezy. Her career was dead. Dead.
She stuck her head out the bathroom door and shouted, “I’m in the shower. Come back later.” A shower was a good idea, too. She stripped off her clothes and dropped them to the floor.
The door knob rattled. “Open the door.” His voice had turned guttural. He must really be angry for his bear to come out like that.
When Krena closed the bathroom door, she locked it for good measure. Not that Hardiman could get through the outside door. Unless he broke it down. But he wouldn’t break it down...right?
The sound of the water hitting the bathtub brought instant relaxation. She couldn’t wait to get in the shower. The blissful feel of water touching her skin never got old.
Even better, she could barely hear Hardiman yelling over the sound.
A few minutes later, as she prepared to shampoo her hair, Hardiman’s growl got a lot louder. “Come out of the bathroom or I’m coming in.”
That sounded like he was right outside the door...the bathroom door. How had he gotten into her room? Naya shut off the shower, instantly mourning the water that swished down the drain.
“Krena?” The bathroom door rocked back and forth as Hardiman pulled on the knob.
“I’m in the shower. Have some decency!” Naya pulled a towel around her.
Hardiman roared. The door came off its hinges and a moment later he stood in front of her, eyes blazing yellow. “Where is he?”
Shit.
She’d known Hardiman would throw the book at her, but she hadn’t thought he’d throw the door at her too. She pushed past him, through the doorway and into the room.
“Krena!” The word sounded garbled. She heard the shower door sliding along its railing before Hardiman appeared in the doorway. He breathed deliberately, each breath a little slower than the last as the bear bled out of his eyes and his teeth lost their sharp edge. “He’s not in there.”
“Of course he’s not. What do you take me for?” Did he seriously think she’d shower with a prisoner?
“Then where is he?”
There was nothing left to do but tell him. She was so dead.
***
Hardiman struggled to get control of himself. When he'd broken into the room, he'd just been worried. But when he'd seen the room was empty and realized the only place Krena and the prisoner could be was in the bathroom together, he'd seen red.
Naya Krena was his.
Even if he'd never have the guts to tell her.
As the silence stretched out and she didn't answer, he asked again. "Where is he?" As usual, the words came out too rough. He'd never been good with women, but with Krena he was a downright idiot. That's why he could never even attempt to woo her. He'd undoubtedly do it wrong.