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“So he’s going to kill her?” Montana’s question was laced with anger.
“I don’t know. He didn’t talk about her very much.” She tried to remember the various sessions. He was angry about his family, but enough to kill? Yes. He was. She swallowed hard. “I need to get ready to go to the office.”
“You’re not going.”
“I have to. I refuse to live in fear.”
Montana let out a long breath before crowding her space, pushing her against the wall.
“Ouch!” The exclamation slipped from her mouth before she could stop the agonizing sound.
Darting his eyes back and forth, he twisted her arm, tugging her forward, and lifting her dress.
“Stop. What are you doing?”
Montana shrunk back, the look on his face one of shock. “Did I do that to you?”
“No! Of course not.” Destiny yanked down her dress. Suddenly she was embarrassed. “No. You were gentle.”
“Then who?”
What in the hell was she going to tell him? “It’s nothing.”
“Destiny.” He looked her up and down then growled. “You went back to the club. Didn’t you? Didn’t you? You’re investigating on your own when I explicitly told you not to. You’re nuts.”
“This isn’t what you think.”
“Then what?”
“Montana. Don’t. Just let it alone,” she pleaded.
He dropped her arm and walked backward, holding up his hands. “You’re right. You don’t owe me anything. None of my business, but I am worried about you. You’re being followed. You have an unstable patient, four dead ones and a list that includes your name. The murderer is escalating his methods. His kills are clear torture. Do you hear me? Do you understand at all?”
There was no doubting how much he cared about her. She walked toward him. “Montana. You’ve been suspended from the force. Michael doesn’t want to be found. There are two connections, the fact they were my patients and my guess is you’re going to tell me that Maria was murdered outside of the club. There is no other choice than to have me undercover.”
“You forget two important issues. One, I’m going to bet that Mistress Jade knows you complained to the police about Mr. Peterson. There is no way she’ll trust you with anything and two, Michael has this list and my bet is that if he’s the killer, he will finish what he started.”
“I understand. I’m not naive. Besides, what other choice do we have?”
Montana exhaled. “We? There is no ‘we’ here. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing. Really.” She heard another knock on the door and was thankful for the interruption. She wasn’t ready to tell him anything about her needs or her recent decisions. “I’ll be right back.” Her ears were ringing, a headache forming in her temples. She was at a loss for what to do and was going to have to believe that Michael was the killer. Stupid. She felt stupid and used.
When she answered the door, she was taken aback. “Christopher. I mean Master Sampson. I mean… What are you doing here?” Roses? What was he doing with roses in his hand? She glanced around him, as if Michael was watching. An odd group of sensations rushed up from her toes. The air crackled, full of electricity.
Christopher held out the flowers and bowed his head. “Please forgive me for last night. My business can interrupt and I need to address, but last night was not the appropriate time.”
“That’s fine. You have your work as I have mine. Thank you for the roses.” Her words were stilted. He was unshaven, the two-day stubble adding a sexy quality. His blue eyes were no longer full of light, but dull with dark circles under them. “No need to forgive anything.” She heard footsteps behind her and blocked as much of the doorway as possible.
Christopher looked over her shoulder. “You have company. I should have called.”
“No. I mean I do.” She heard the detective hissing under his breath. Montana wasn’t going to let this go.
Taking a step back, Christopher narrowed his eyes and looked directly at the approaching man.
Montana stood behind her, his head cocked. “And you are?”
“A friend. Nothing more.” Christopher gave a coy smile.
