Eduardo, a tall man with short, spiky black hair, narrowed his eyes on Kara and then let them lift to Blake. “Behind you.”

“Right,” Kara said. “Thank you.” She turned away and darted for the women’s restroom, while Blake introduced himself to Eduardo.

Kara cleared the doorway to the restroom and leaned on the sink, thankful the two stalls beside her appeared to be empty. Her heart hammered in her chest, and not just because that was too close a call. Because she’d confirmed what she feared was happening to the women that had gone missing. Because Blake’s hands on her shoulders, the protective, possessive thing he kept doing, felt too good and too right. And because he was going to ask questions she didn’t want to answer. Now he was going to push her harder. The only real comfort she had in all of this was that the missing women, one in particular, were likely alive. She just had to figure out where they were.

The door to the bathroom opened and she whirled around to find Blake stepping inside. “What are you doing?” she demanded, only to find herself against the door with Blake’s legs framing hers, his hands curving around her waist. Heat shot through her body, fogging her brain. Damn it, no man affected her like this until now. Why why why did it have to be him?

“What are you doing is more the question,” he said. “And don’t tell me looking for the bathroom.”

Lying in this case would get her nowhere. And she hated lying to him anyway. “I saw the open door and heard voices. I thought I might hear something useful.”

“You had a gun at your head once tonight. You really do like to live dangerously, don’t you?”

Her throat went dry. She had. He was right. And he’d tried to save her. “You tried to get Ignacio to point that gun at you instead of me. Why?”

Surprise flickered in his eyes. “Why?”

“Why?”

“I told you,” he said softly. “I might need you.” His lips quirked. “Besides, it’s what us macho men do, baby.”

It was one of his flippant remarks that he did so well but it was flat without the cocky attitude he’d mastered like no one she’d ever known. There was more to this man than met the eye, and she wanted him to surprise her. She wanted him to be someone he wasn’t. But isn’t that what all women who got mixed up with a man like him wanted? What they convinced themselves was possible to justify being with a man destined to destroy them?

And still, with that logic playing in her mind, she found herself gently touching his face, letting her fingers trail over the dull stubble of a new beard, her chest tight with emotion. “Thank you.”

He reached up and covered her hand with his. “For what?”