He moved the curtain aside and stared out into the snow-filled night, wondering where this killer was hiding. Did they still have Darby in their sights, or had they moved on?

Outside the blizzard intensified. Snow blew horizontally outside the window and the tops of the trees submitted to the wailing wind.

The killer was probably trapped in this town the same way everyone else was trapped. A shiver made him turn around and climb back into bed beside Darby. Pulling her against his chest and absorbing the quiet pleasure of her skin next to his.

He wouldn’t let anyone else hurt her. Not him, not anyone. Not ever again.

* * *

Darby jerked awake and instantly froze at the dark shadows dancing over the ceiling. Then she became aware of the chill in the air and the comforting warmth of the man beside her and everything shifted back into focus. She immediately relaxed. She wasn’t in the hut. She wasn’t scared and alone, or worse, scared and not alone.

She slid out from beneath the covers and used the bathroom, filling the wood stove on the way back to bed.

Euphoria filled her. Memories of what she and Eban had done together made her grin like a loon as she snuggled back under the sheets, pressing her now cold skin against his heat.

His hand snuck around her waist and pulled her close.

“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” he growled.

“I don’t want to get away from you.” She stretched her naked body against his and felt his erection growing along her hip.

“The first thing a trained negotiator learns is to assume nothing. Keep an open mind and seek out as much intelligence as possible.”

He rolled her onto her back but didn’t put any of his weight on her. Her night vision had adapted enough to make out his features. He was smiling at her.

She knew he was going to ask if she was okay, and she didn’t want him to.

She placed her palm on the smooth skin of his sternum. “What else do you learn in negotiator school?”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, her eyes, her lips. Along the length of her jaw, skipping over her injured throat to trace his tongue over her collarbone. He pinched her nipple firmly between his finger and thumb. Making her back arch in pleasant but unexpected wonder.

“Always be ready for surprises.”

She laughed.

His hand stroked lazily down her front and dipped inside her wet heat. He stroked her languorously and relentlessly. “And to slow everything down.”

It was torture and she never wanted it to end. She widened her thighs, silently begging for more.

“Negotiators should keep their tone of voice low and reassuring. Calm.” He kissed her breast and then suckled her nipple into his mouth as he shifted a little lower down the bed.

“What else?” She could barely breathe let alone think.

“Start sentences with ‘I’m sorry’ to remove any confrontation. ‘I’m sorry, but you want me to stop kissing you to answer your questions?’ Keep the slight querying upward inflection at the end of the sentence to subconsciously ask ‘are you sure that you want me to stop kissing you?’”