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“And you have no idea why folks want you dead?”
A furrow peaked between her golden brows. “No clue.”
Right.
Her hands lifted, then fell in a vague little gesture. “Well, it’s been fun, Chase, but I’ve got work to do.”
He pulled the wooden stake from his back pocket. “Just what kind of work is it that you do, Sandra?”
Red flush. She lunged for him and locked her fingers around the stake, but he didn’t let go. She was close now, close enough that he could see light flecks of gold in her dark gaze. Close enough that he could see the pulse pounding at the base of her throat. Close enough that he could almost taste those lips.
He tightened his hold on the stake. The wood was smooth and hard. The woman had obviously spent some time honing her weapon.
“Give it to me.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “I don’t want to have to explain this shit to all of them right now, not with the last silver shooting still hanging over me.”
Silver shooting? Sounded like an interesting story.
Slowly, he released his hold, and she jerked the weapon from him. Kneeling, she shoved the stake into some kind of custom holster near her ankle.
When she lifted the ragged hem of her jeans, he caught sight of her leg. Nice. Smooth and pale and?—
She shot back up, nearly clipping him in the chin. Again.
Simon shook his head. She was so not what he’d been expecting. “You didn’t answer me,” he said and tried to ignore her scent. A heady scent, rich and dark. A woman’s sensual perfume.
She licked her lips. A quick swipe of her tongue that had his cock jerking.
Definitely not what he’d been expecting, but he wasn’t going to complain. No way.
“Trust me on this, you don’t want to know.” She shuffled back a few steps and tossed him a careless smile. “Thanks for watching my ass tonight, Chase.”
Then she was gone. Turning away and marching through the throng of cops still on scene, and he kept watching that ass of hers. Nice and firm, round enough to hold tight.
Yeah, he kept watching that ass, right until the moment she disappeared around the corner.
He waited a beat. Two.
Then he stalked after her because he wasn’t about to let his prey escape that quickly. There’d be no fun in such an easy exit.
He followed her, giving brief, polite nods to the cops as he made his way past their vehicles. It only took a moment to realize that Dee wasn’t headed back to the main street. His eyes tracked her. No, the woman wasn’t retreating to the safety of her car. She was snaking through the back alleys, going even deeper into the underbelly of the city.
And she wasn’t even glancing back.
Because she was hunting, too.
What the hell? The woman had almost been shot, shouldn’t she be hesitating a bit? His hands fisted as he followed her. The night closed around him, her, and they both hunted.
The minutes ticked past. Another tight corner. Another alley. He kept her in his sights. His nostrils stung because these streets reeked. Garbage. Decay. Who knew what the hell he was stepping in as he trailed her?
The woman had better be worth this effort. She’d better?—
He rounded another turn, one that led him between two thick buildings.
Dee had vanished.
He froze and stared straight ahead.
A soft footfall sounded behind him. Could have been a whisper, could have been?—
