Sometimes she forgot that he’d been one of the FBI’s best profilers before his life had disintegrated—yet another intriguing facet to him. “Maybe both,” she acknowledged, willing to give him that much. “At least I haven’t stopped trying to live.”

“Neither have I.” He turned back to his murder board in a clear act of dismissal. “You ever wonder why we don’t like each other?”

The continuation of conversation surprised her more than the pang in her heart at the words. “Because you’re an asshole?” she burst out.

His chuckle was low and dark. “That’s only part of it. The other part, my pretty shrink, is that we see right through each other. To the soul.”

She cocked her head, rising instantly to the unspoken challenge only she could hear while ignoring the possessive tone with nice compliment. “You don’t like what you see? Somehow I don’t think that’s your problem with me.”

“That’s irrelevant,” he murmured, the atmosphere relaxing slightly as he turned his focus from her to his obsession. “You’re gonna want to stay off my radar and out of the way for now. Trust me.”

Awareness ticked down her spine. She’d tried that tactic, and it hadn’t worked. “No.”

He stiffened, and the atmosphere in the room changed. Slowly, deliberately, he swiveled his chair once again. “Nari.”

Her body went on full alert and she lowered her chin. “Such a reaction from a simple no. Don’t tell me the entire team is so scared of you that they never defy you.” Her voice emerged breathy and she cleared her throat.

He snorted, his expression not relenting in the least. “Are you nuts? Our team is full of hotheads who do nothing but defy me. Sometimes Wolfe defies the laws of physics.”

True. The team was both ragtag and dangerous. She narrowed her focus to his clear eyes. “You haven’t been drinking.”

“No.” He sat back, watching her.

This was new. He was using the bottle as a paper weight. “Why not?”

One of his dark eyebrows rose, the look oddly threatening. “I’d take offense at that, but I have been in a bottle lately. I stopped drinking an hour ago—at least for a while.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Because we just found the first body.”

* * *

Angus Force had been around dangerous people his entire life and nobody compared to the woman reading him with midnight-dark eyes. For yet another failed date, she’d worn black slacks, shiny boots, a pink, silky-looking shirt, and a leather jacket that probably cost more than his apartment. Yet the clothing was nothing compared to the beauty of the woman herself. Long black hair, delicate features, compact body that was trained to fight. Her intelligence was enhanced by an almost mystical empathy for others.