I need to be close to you.
“You can stay upstairs. There’s a guest room down the hallway that you can use.” Her voice was grudging and she sighed. “Of course, you know my neighbors will see your car. Everyone will say we’re sleeping together.” Again.
He stared at her. “I thought you never cared what people said.”
“I don’t.” She turned and headed for the stairs. “Just thought you should know…”
He snagged her hand. “Are we going to talk about it?”
She looked at his hand. So much tanner than her own. So much bigger. Stronger. “You mean the kiss?” She gave a faint laugh. “It was so fast, I hardly think that—”
“Actually, I meant our past, but, yeah, if you want to talk about the kiss, let’s do it.”
Crap. She’d walked straight into that one.
“Want to know why I kissed you?”
Get out of here. Right now. That warning was flashing in her head and she kept a faint smile on her face as she looked up at him. “I already know why.”
“You do?”
“Because you still want me.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Want to know why I kissed you back?” Ivy asked him as she pulled away and then headed up the stairs.
“Why.” A demand, not a question.
She stilled on the fifth step. Her hand tightened around the banister. “Because I never stopped wanting you.”
“Ivy…”
She kept going up the stairs. “Enjoy the guest room.” Because she might want him, she might need him, but she wasn’t crossing that line. Not yet.
Not when I’m already close to breaking apart on the inside.
He didn’t understand just what her life had become. She wasn’t about playing things safe. Being the good DuLane, not anymore.
And she wasn’t ready to share her dark secrets with him, not yet.
***
“I see you,” he whispered as he stared up at the house. Ivy was in that house. Ivy and the detective.
Were they lovers? Screwing on the stairs? On the floor? In Ivy’s bed?
That wouldn’t do. He’d picked her. She was his now, for as long as he wanted.
And he kept his prey until the last breath.
The detective would require some research, just as Ivy would. He liked to study his prey. Learn their strengths and weaknesses.
The councilman—he’d been different. The fool got in my way. But it was for the best. He couldn’t afford any loose ends. Too much was at stake.
He’d learned that Laxton hadn’t made it to the hospital alive, despite Ivy’s valiant efforts.
How would she react to that news? Would lovely Ivy blame herself? Would she cry?
He isn’t worth your tears. Save them all for me.
He turned away from Ivy’s house. He wouldn’t be visiting her, not yet. There was more to learn first. More arrangements to make.
Soon enough, Ivy would have her turn.
I’ll learn those secrets, and those desires. In the end, she would beg for him.
His prey always did.
Chapter Five
Ivy didn’t usually hang out in morgues. They were creepy, seriously creepy. They smelled bad. They were cold. And they made her stomach knot.
“Are you okay?”
Ivy sucked in a quick breath and tried really hard not to gag. She so did not have this calm, in-command attitude down. Bennett ruled that kind of attitude. Damn him.
“Ivy, you look like you’re about to faint,” the ME said. He was an older guy, balding, with warm coffee skin and sympathetic brown eyes.
Beside him, Bennett grunted. He was not so sympathetic. “She shouldn’t even be here. She can wait in the hallway and—”
“Thanks for letting me come in, Dr. Battiste,” Ivy said quickly. “I appreciate it.”
Bennett had looked way less-than-thrilled when she’d trailed him to the morgue. His expression had darkened even more when it became obvious that she and Harvey Battiste knew each other. She’d actually known Harvey since she was about three, when she’d been sneaking off with Harvey and her grandfather on their fishing trips.
Harvey frowned at her, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned toward his exam table and motioned toward the body on display. “Our victim is twenty-five-year-old Evette Summers. Her fingerprints turned up in the system, so ID’ing her was easy.” He exhaled. “She was stabbed four times, and it appears when the blade was plunging into her, the killer…twisted the weapon, seeking maximum damage.”
Ivy’s nails bit into her palms.
“There weren’t defensive wounds on the victim.” Harvey rubbed his chin. “Based on the angle of entry, I doubt our victim could fight back after the first drive of that knife into her.”
“And she didn’t even realize the attack was coming,” Ivy said.
Harvey blinked.