She held her ground as he approached. Mostly because these days, Alice made it a point not to retreat from anyone or anything. After all, when you were the monster in the dark, what did you have to fear?
Only other monsters.
He smiled at her. She’d had lights installed over the back door, and those lights let her see his grin. Still as amazing as before. How wonderful for him. She truly did think that grin had opened all sorts of doors for him in life.
Meanwhile, doors had been slammed on her again and again. But not any longer. “Just so you know, in case this is one of those situations in which you think you will rob me or do something else…nefarious…” What a fun word that was. “You should know that you are on video right now. And if I want help to come running, all I have to do is press a little button on my keychain.” A security alert that would go straight to Logan.
But, obviously, she didn’t want Logan running to the scene right then. Otherwise, why would she have waited for this little talk? She’d known all along that her stranger was in the shadows. She’d heard the faint rustle of his step and saw the outline of his body the moment she’d exited the building.
His body was rather unforgettable.
He stepped even closer to her. So close that she could practically feel the heat emanating from him. He was big—even bigger than Logan by at least an inch or two—and his shoulders were wide and strong. Even in her heels, she had to tip her head back to stare up at him.
“Nefarious.” A shake of his head. “Why do you think I’m the bad guy?”
“Because you’re lurking in shadows. Because you stared at me with recognition in your eyes when we first met.” She easily clicked off the items on her list. “Because you didn’t come into Abracadabra by chance, and you’re not a crime groupie.”
“A crime groupie?”
“Um.” Annoyance flashed through her. “Don’t pretend. It’s a waste of my time. You know who I am.”
“Alice Shephard.”
“You know what I am,” she added deliberately.
“The woman suspected of killing three men. A serial killer.”
That response gave her pause. “I’m not a serial killer.”
“Well, the definition of a serial killer is someone who has murdered multiple people in a rather predictable manner—”
Laughter spilled from her. Real laughter, despite the heaviness that so often pulled at her.
He jerked at the sound, as if he’d been caught off-guard.
She let the laughter linger because it felt good, and she enjoyed feeling good. Then she said, “There is nothing predictable about me.”
A nod. “I’m coming to see that.”
“I don’t think there is much that is predictable about you, either.” A point in his favor. “Because most men who want to fuck me don’t straight-up accuse me of being a serial killer. Sort of ruins the mood, if you know what I mean. Sure, they may think it, but to actually just say those words outright…” A shake of her head and she absolutely could not resist saying, “Mood killer.”
His lips twitched. Not a full smile, but definite amusement. For just a fleeting moment. “What makes you think I want to fuck you?”
She almost laughed again. Alice realized she hadn’t enjoyed this much fun in…hmm, she couldn’t remember when. Ages. “Seriously? I know lust when I see it in a man’s eyes. When you looked at me inside Abracadabra, let’s just say your gaze was blazing.”
His jaw hardened.
Well, well. Someone didn’t like being called out on his desire. Too bad.
“I guess you’re used to men wanting you,” he said, his voice a deep and dark, utterly delicious rumble that slid over her. “So you just assume we’re all the same.”
She would never make that fatal assumption.
“But I’m not here to fuck you, Alice.”
“No? Then what are you here to do?”
His hand lifted. She tensed, automatically, then wanted to curse herself. His fingers reached out and stroked her cheek. The caress was as gentle as a breath of wind on her skin. She could feel the calluses on the edges of his fingertips, but his touch was ever so careful. She even wanted to turn into his touch, as crazy as that—
“I’m here to take you down.” His voice was serious and a bit sad. And utterly, utterly certain.
So she did turn into his touch. She nuzzled a little against his hand and heard the swift inhalation of his breath. But Alice didn’t smile at his reaction. Now wasn’t the time for a smile. However, it was time for a little bit of truth with her mysterious stranger. Testing, she let her lips skim over his hand.
She saw him tense. Felt it.
His hand jerked back from her.
Alice lifted her chin. “You said that wrong.”
His hands were at his sides. The one she’d touched with her mouth? That hand had curled into a fist. So very telling. For a moment, she admired the dark swirls on his fist. His tats were interesting. Something she’d noticed while he’d drank his old-fashioned inside. The tats covered the back of his hands. Slid up his wrists. Did they go all the way up his arms? Hard to say since he was wearing that ancient-looking jacket.
Focus. Right. Because she needed to set this poor man straight. Alice let a little sigh slip from her. “What you meant was that you’re here to fall in love with me.”
“That’s damn well not what I meant.”
Alice stepped toward him. She put her hand on his chest.
“Lady, you are playing with fire,” he warned.
“I’m not playing.” His heart raced beneath her touch. “I don’t play. That’s probably the first thing you should learn about me.”
“I already learned plenty.”
Alice filed that revealing bit away for later. “You bust into my life and say that you’re here to take me down.”
“There is the little matter of three murders tied to you.”
She pressed up on her toes. She liked his mouth. Firm but sculpted lips. She liked his jaw, too. Hard and strong. There was a little cleft in his chin that she found delightful. It didn’t soften his fierce, handsome face, though. If anything, the faint cleft somehow made him seem sexier. His dark, thick hair had been shoved back from his forehead, and faint stubble covered his jaw. “You’re not a cop.”
“No?”
“No. You don’t look like a cop, and you certainly don’t act like one.”
“You don’t know me. Don’t make assumptions.”
“Ah. I could say the same thing to you.” She was staring at his mouth. Definitely considering kissing him simply for the hell of it. “Damn.” Regretful. She began to ease off her toes and back down. “I know what you are.”
“And what am I?”
Obviously… “The bad guy.” Another sigh. More forlorn this time. “That’s the only kind of guy I’m attracted to.” She was most certainly attracted to him. “Sort of a talent I have. Some women go for men who bring them flowers and treat them to candlelight dinners. Me? I tend to get drawn to the men who are trouble.”
“Are you sure that you aren’t trouble?”
Oh, she was. “The worst kind of trouble,” Alice affirmed without hesitation. “Remember that about me and stay away, would you?”