His hand rose to her side. He could feel her muscles tense at his touch, but he held steady, waiting for her to either relax or pull away.

She leaned forward and kissed him gently on his lips. He did not deepen the kiss or pull her toward him—as far as he was concerned, this had to be her show.

She drew back and regarded his face with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “Was that not what you wanted?”

“It was mighty nice.”

“If you would rather not, no harm, no foul. I don’t want to mess up whatever professional relationship we have or had.”

His hand remained on her side. “Had?”

“Sounds like the case is behind us.”

“A kiss isn’t going to ruin anything,” he said carefully.

Jordan kissed him again, this time injecting more passion, which sent desire surging through him.

“I feel like myself when I kiss you,” she said. “I like it a lot.”

“Same.”

“I’m tired of death and loss,” she said. “I want to feel alive.” Her hand slid to the one pressed to her side. “My bedroom is down the hallway.”

“That’s a bigger step than a kiss.”

“Like I said, if you don’t want to, no harm, no foul.”

“I want to.”

“But?” she asked.

“I don’t want to take advantage.”

“If I didn’t want this, this conversation would have been handled over the phone.”

He rose, and she tipped her gaze toward him. He cupped her face and kissed her. Since the first moment in the courtroom parking lot when they had gone toe to toe, she’d had the ability to make him rock hard. Jesus, he had not wanted a woman like this in a very long time.

“I want this,” he said. “Maybe too much.”

She grinned, took his hand, and led him toward a hallway. “I promise to be gentle.”

He chuckled, following her. “Ma’am, don’t hold back on my account.”

She glanced back at him, her grin wicked. “I won’t.”

Avery stood on the street corner near Thompson’s Market. The building remained surrounded by cops, techs dressed in space suits, and miles of yellow crime scene tape. As she cradled a cup of coffee, she thought back to that night when the stranger’s hot breath had puffed against her skin as he shoved the plastic in her mouth. When she had seen Rawlings the other day, she had not gotten any vibe or hint that he had been that man.

“What brings you here?”

Leo Santiago’s familiar voice startled her.

“What are you doing here?” she countered.

“I’m a cop.”

“You keep popping up,” she said.

“I could say the same for you,” he said. “Why are you here?”

“Rawlings, I suppose. I can’t picture him doing what’s being said about him. He was a nice guy.”

“Not from my perspective.”

“You didn’t know him.”