“Dinner?”
“Dinner. Right then. Right there. I would have taken you out. I would have tried to charm you even though I am not charming. I think I would have looked into your eyes, and I know that I would have wanted you just as much as I want you now.”
“So it’s not…adrenaline? We’re not adrenaline.”
“No.”
She smiled, her lips curving as his finger traced over them.
His lashes fluttered. Surprise came on his face. “First time.”
“Yes, we did cover that.” How long would he be stuck on that point?
“No, angel. I meant that’s the first time your smile has reached your eyes. Makes them change. Gold glints in the dark.”
Her smile faltered.
“That’s my favorite smile that you have,” he told her. His hand slid away. He leaned toward her. His lips brushed against hers.
She didn’t know what to say. What to do. And…
“Do you want me to leave on the lights?” A careful question from Preston.
“I…” It was so bright in the room, but she wasn’t ready for total darkness. Not yet. “Maybe just one?”
He gave a voice command, and all of the lights turned off, except one soft lamp, glowing in the far corner. He shifted in the bed. Sloane feared he was going to leave, so she grabbed his arm.
“You’ll stay?” Sloane pressed.
“As long as you want me.”
Well, then you’ll stay forever. But she didn’t say those words. She couldn’t. He tucked her against his side, one arm sliding over her stomach, but then she felt him stiffen.
“Is it too much? Do you feel…trapped?”
“Not by you.” Her fingers twined with his. “How many times will I have to tell you? With you, I feel safe.”
His breathing was slow. Steady. His arms warm and strong. The faint light in the corner spilled a soft glow into the bedroom, and her eyes began to drift closed. Sloane was almost asleep when?—
“How can you feel safe, knowing what I’ve done?”
Her eyes opened. No pretending. No denying. No lying. “You mean, knowing that you killed him? Knowing that you killed your father?” Would he admit it? Would he tell her?—
“Yes.” Flat. “Knowing that I killed the bastard, that I slammed his head into a rock and broke his neck, how can you ever feel safe with me?”
Chapter Twenty
Sheriff Debra Tooni had seen a lot of bad things in the course of her sixty-eight years. The first time she’d seen something bad, she’d been seven years old. She’d watched her best friend in the entire world get hit by a drunk driver.
It had been seven a.m. in the morning. Jimmy Benge had been running toward their stopped school bus. His backpack had been bouncing. Jimmy had been grinning and waving at her and when the station wagon hit him, she’d screamed so loud and hard that she’d lost her voice.
She’d joined the FBI after graduating college. Her plan had been to make the world a better place. And she had. Or, at least, she thought that she had. She’d locked away criminals. She’d promised victims that they were safe.
But…
She’d seen things. Things that wouldn’t let her sleep. That made her break out into a cold sweat even on the hottest night. So she’d started looking at people differently. Started wondering what secrets seemingly good people kept behind their closed doors.
Like the school teacher she’d arrested as an FBI agent. Teacher of the year. With a dead student’s body cut up and stored in his freezer.
