“But you were lying.”
Yes, she had been. Part of her had very much wanted to see him again. “Fine. I’d like for them to cross, but you and I…” Her gaze dipped over him. Over all those delicious inches and those tenting shorts. Settle down, woman. She couldn’t help it. There was something about him that called to her. A purely primitive reaction that she’d never had before. She saw him, and she ached. She could all too easily imagine having hot, dirty sex with Saint. Maybe on top of the bar in her speakeasy. Maybe against the wall of an alley. Maybe…right here.
No. Bad idea. He wasn’t someone she could trust.
And he certainly couldn’t trust her.
“You and I…” Alice repeated once more as she tried to get on solid footing with him, “we are not meant to be. Sorry to crush your hopes and dreams, but I suppose someone had to do the dark deed.”
“You do lots of dark deeds, my Alice?”
She’d caught the possessive my. Had it been deliberate? When she looked in his eyes, she couldn’t tell if it had been a slip of the tongue or an intentional push. Either way… “Yes. Yes, I do. But not this morning. This morning, I’m just going for a lovely run.”
“Do you run this way every day?”
Her brows climbed. “Why? You think I should vary my routine because I might have stalkers following me?” She barely paused. “If it’s a true stalker, he’ll just follow no matter what path I take. I like going this way. Takes me to the park. Why give up something I enjoy for someone else?”
“Because it’s safer?”
Cute. There he went, being adorable. “Do I look like the safe type?”
His gaze slid over her. Slowly. Heat filled his stare.
“Hmm.” Saint made a show of stretching. Seemingly casual, he asked, “Do you get a lot of stalkers?”
He certainly had a lot of questions. “I’m staring at one right now.”
That hard jaw of his clenched. “I mean it, Alice. Do you have a lot of people like that woman last night? People who want to get photos with you? People who want to be close to you?”
She stepped toward him. “What is your deal?” Enough games.
“My deal?” He rolled back his shoulders. Powerful, broad shoulders.
“Yes.” Slightly hissing. “You said you were here to take me down. Down for what, exactly?”
“Ah, there are three missing men linked to you.”
Damn you, Saint. Anger snapped through her. “Who made you my judge, jury, and executioner?”
His eyelashes flickered. He had the deepest, darkest brown eyes. No flecks of gold. No softness. Just the tempting dark. “Did you kill them?”
Alice laughed, but not with genuine amusement. Mocking, cold laughter. “Really? You think that’s how this works? You follow me while I jog, and I suddenly spill every secret that I have to you? I did not take you for an amateur.”
“What did you take me for?”
The area was so quiet. Too empty. It wasn’t even six a.m. yet. The faintest light had begun to spill onto the historic street. She was completely alone with Saint. A man she didn’t know. A man who had to outweigh her by almost a hundred pounds. A man who was big and scary and who seemed intent on following her.
She should have been afraid.
So why wasn’t she? “Not a cop.” She knew this with certainty. But she hadn’t gotten her report back from Logan, not yet, so everything else was just a shot in the dark. “Maybe a PI? I’ve had more than my share of those dodging my steps. All thinking they’d magically be the one to solve the big mystery that is little old me.” She touched her chest.
His gaze followed the movement. Lingered. Heated even more. Ah, yes, the spell-binding power of a sports bra. You’d think he hadn’t seen one before.
“Did I kill those men? Make their bodies disappear? Am I as bad as the stories say?” Her hand dropped. “Or is there a different side to the tale?”
Saint didn’t deny being a PI. Didn’t confirm it, either. Instead, he said, “At first, I thought someone of your size would have trouble with the bodies.”
Her temples began to pound. It was truly too early for this.
“Then I realized that making people vanish was a specialty of yours. Sort of a family trait.” He crossed his arms over his powerful chest. “Almost as if…by magic. Abracadabra.”
Alice laughed. Once more, the sound mocked him. “Bravo. You’ve cracked the case. You’ve somehow managed to figure out—probably by doing a basic Internet search—that my father was a magician. Not a very famous one. Dear old dad never made the big stages, but he did enjoy his work. And, yes, my speakeasy is named in honor of him. Your sleuthing skills are top-notch.” She looked at her wrist. At the watch that kept track of her steps and her heartrate and…
My heartrate is way too high. That escalation had nothing to do with her run and everything to do with the man in front of her. But she kept her expression controlled and her voice cool as she told him, “Chat time is over. I have to finish my run, and then get busy with my day.” She dropped her hand. Smiled brightly. “You know the old saying. I have places to go—”
“And people to kill?”
Do not tell him to fuck off. Do not. “Fuck off.” It just felt so good to say. She gave him a salute. Then went on her way.
He didn’t follow her, but she could feel his eyes on her. Watching her so very carefully.
That man is going to be such a problem for me.
***
“Murder.”
Alice looked up from the extremely boring paperwork in front of her. Accounting sucked, but someone had to go over the books every now and then. Logan stood in her doorway, managing to appear both satisfied and grim at the same time. An interesting combination.
She fiddled with the pen in her hand. “Care to elaborate?”
“Oh, you know…murder…That would be why your new friend Saint went to jail.”
Jail. Her spine straightened. She stopped fiddling with the pen. “You have my full attention.”
Logan sauntered inside. “Thought I might. Did I mention it was multiple murders?”
The plot thickens. Her heart raced a little faster. “You’re mentioning it now. And you’re about to tell me more. By more, I mean everything.”
He pulled out the chair in front of her desk. Flipped it around, straddled it, then sat. “Your Saint was eighteen at the time.”
“He’s not mine.” Why had she even said that? Why did it feel wrong?
Logan hummed. “Quite brutal crimes. Someone with a whole lot of rage committed the attacks. Saint was implicated because there was a witness who swore he was at the scene of one of the attacks. That he’d fought with the victim.”
Alice barely breathed.
“But Saint apparently has friends in high places.”
A dangerous point in his favor.
“He was eventually cleared of the charges. Funny thing about that, Saint was cleared by the very bounty hunter who tracked his ass down and tossed him in a cell.”
Her brow furrowed. That was odd.
“Saint joined the bounty hunter in his business. Been doing the job for years. Has a reputation for taking on the worst of the worst.” He steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “You know what they say. Sometimes, it takes a monster to catch a monster.”