Josie nodded, standing and heading for the door. “Of course.” Poor Billy. Growing up in foster care, she’d befriended many a lost kid who’d coped with life by taking drugs. She’d been offered pot at ten years old, meth at twelve, and cocaine at fifteen. But she’d always known there was a way out of the system, and that taking drugs would keep her in. It was a straight shot from foster care to juvey to jail. So she’d always said no to drugs. Unfortunately, her best friend had said yes to cocaine and had died from an overdose. Josie needed to visit her soon in the local cemetery.

Drugs did kill.

For now, Josie had to concentrate on the present and not the past. This current mess with Shane could cost her the promotion she wanted.

Navy blue industrial carpet cushioned her steps as she wound through the quiet hall to the main hub of the floor. Several secretaries busily typed away in rows of cubicles filling the center space as phones rang and printers whooshed. A trill of laughter threaded among the squeaking of desk chairs. The aroma of floral perfume and vanilla coffee scented the air.

She reached her office, hurrying inside and shutting the door to keep noise out. She didn’t have time to mess around—now she needed to go get a bunch of new clients to compete with freakin’ Daniel.

Hurrying toward her desk, she glanced at her appointment book.

“Hi, angel.” The heavy oak door swished shut behind her, the lock engaging with a click.

She froze. In slow motion, she turned around. The files trembled in her hands.

“Sit down.” Shane had been waiting against the wall. He tilted his head toward a leather guest chair. She’d chosen the light brown carefully to match the chairs her foster father Arthur had had in his office so many years ago. Classy and plush.

The phone. She could get to it, or she could scream. But if she screamed, who’d come running? Her secretary, Vicki? Vicki couldn’t handle Shane. Crap. She’d probably take one look at the soldier and rip his clothes off.

“Now.” He wore a fresh black shirt and new jeans, kick-ass boots covering his size thirteens.

“Nice boots.” Josie tossed the file on the desk and slid into a chair. She was wearing three-inch heels on her feet; they’d cause serious pain if necessary.

“Turns out I had cash hidden at the bungalow. Went shopping earlier.” He stalked forward and dropped into the matching chair, swiveling her to face him. Both legs stretched out on either side of hers, trapping her. “Miss me?”

“No.” She straightened her back with a sharp snap. So he admitted he’d stalked her from the bungalow. Was that a good sign or a bad one? Either way, her chest hurt. “How’s the head?” A new bruise covered his left temple. From her foot. Her grin even felt malicious.

“Excellent kick, angel.” He leaned forward, his hands clasping her knees above her skirt, his scent of heated cedar washing over her. “I taught you well.” He wore his soldier face today, no expression showing. But those eyes. Dark, gray, and swirling with emotion. He usually veiled better.

Her abdomen began to hum… in warning and something darker. A feminine desire for him to explain everything—for him to say it was real. But the only thing that was real was the lust they’d felt. Still felt. “Don’t make me kick you again.”

His smile slid slow and sure across his face. Dangerous. “Ah, darlin’, I’d love for you to try it again.” His hands dipped under the skirt, pushing the silk up, his palms heating her thighs. “Something occurred to me last night.”

Desire rippled through her with memories of what those hands could do. Even lying to her, he’d exploded her world. She grabbed his hands, halting their journey. So close to where her body was beginning to ache. The man knew her body and exactly how to play her. The thought brought both unease and intrigue. “What’s that?” Her voice came out hoarse.

“I’ve been too easy on you.” He flipped one hand over, easily trapping both of hers. “Treated you with kid gloves, kept you out of my life.”

She frowned, her lids dropping. “You remember.”

“No.” He sighed, his free hand curving to the side of her thigh and heading toward her hipbone. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. What you were able to do by kicking me in the face.” He traced a path over her thigh toward her core, his gaze dropping to her breasts. “Let me feel you, Josie.” Three fingers pressed against the outside of her panties. “Just once. Before everything goes to shit. Open for me, baby.”

Electric shocks cascaded out from his fingers. Molten lava. Fire whipped through her until she tilted against his hand. She knew the pleasure he could bring. Even with the pain that would follow, that pleasure was seductive. To get lost like that again. Sometimes to feel the fire, you had to get burned. She swallowed. They were in her office, for goodness’ sake. The temptation made her catch her breath. So much temptation.

So wrong.

This time the fire would consume her. She just knew it. So she tugged her wrists free, scooting back and smoothing down her skirt. “Keep your hands off me.”

Shane sat back, desire flushing red across his high cheekbones. “Never.”

“Stop it, Shane.” She clutched her jacket shut over throbbing breasts. Needy breasts. There was something seriously wrong with her. “The police are looking for you. No way can you get me out of this building.”

His lip quirked. “You think I’m here to take you?”

Well, yeah. Her face warmed. Of course he was there for her. The man wanted her, didn’t he? Temper lifted its head. “I assume most stalkers try to take their prey at some point.”

His teeth flashed in a smile. “You’re my prey now?”

Oh, most killers on television had charm, too. “You’ve been watching me. Stalking me. Some of those pictures in your bungalow go back three and a half years.” Her voice rose on the last.

“Keep your voice down.” He rubbed his chin. “I can’t explain the pictures right now. There’s no logical reason for me to have stalked you, and you know it. I had you.” His eyes warmed. “I’ll have you again.”

Heat filled her body while confusion filled her mind. He was playing her, damn it. And like any victim, she was letting him. “Then where did the pictures come from?”

“I’ll find out, though my best guess is that I was watching you to keep you safe if somebody is after you.” He leaned forward, the rough stubble on his jaw making him look more than ever like a pirate searching for loot. “Now you need to trust yourself, Josie. Believe in your instincts, in whatever made you trust me in the first place. Give me a chance to figure this out, angel.” His eyes softened with the entreaty.

“Not a chance in hell.” The words came out weaker than she’d intended. Was Tom correct? Was she caught in some abusive vortex where she continued to trust when she should just flee?

“We’re family, angel. Have been since we said our vows.” Shane glanced at her ringless hand.

“Straight for the jugular, huh?” Typical of Shane to slice right to her heart. To the heart of a kid raised in foster care who’d prayed for a family. But she’d developed excellent instincts in that system, and she’d married the man with her eyes wide open. So that could only mean he was better than most predators—much better. She’d never even seen him coming until it was too late. Now was the time to be smart. “I’m not leaving with you.”

“I know.”

His easy acceptance bothered her more than it should. She bit her lip. “Why are you here?”

“There were seven bugs planted in your house, angel.”

What a complete jerk. “You planted seven bugs?”

“No. Three matched my equipment in the bungalow.” His gaze stayed steady and watchful on hers.

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Someone else planted the other four—which makes my theory that I was watching you more credible. Maybe I was trying to figure out who had bugged your house.”

Panic had her mind fuzzing. “Who the hell is after you?” She hadn’t seen the man in two years. Who would go to the trouble to bug her house on the off chance he showed up after so much time? Or was she in some sort of trouble? Nobody would be after her, though. She was an accountant, for goodness’ sake. “Well, at least we know how those men knew where to throw the grenade.” She bit her lip, squirming on the chair. “Were there any bugs in the bathroom?”

Shane barked out a laugh. “No. None in the bathroom.” He stretched his neck. “While I think these guys were after me, we need to make sure they weren’t after you. Is there anyone who would want to hurt you?”

“Besides you?” she whispered.

His eyes darkened. “I’m an asshole, I know. But I’d rip off my own arm before hurting you.”

He just didn’t get it. She shook her head. “Nobody wants to hurt me.”

“Everything’s okay at work?”

“Yes.” She leaned back, picking at a string on her skirt. “I do have some accounts that aren’t adding up, but they were a drug addict’s files, and he’s in rehab right now.”

Shane leaned forward. “What kind of accounts? Anything people would want to hide?”

“No.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Nothing illegal or dangerous. If anything, they’d all have a good claim against the firm for money. Most people just want money.” She’d figure out where Billy screwed up, and maybe when he returned from rehab, she could help him get back on his feet.

Shane nodded. “Who’s the addict?”

“Bill Johnson—he’s been an accountant for about twenty years. Seemed like a decent guy.”

“So you didn’t know him well?”

Josie rolled her eyes. “No, I only know him professionally. I didn’t even know he had a drug problem until he was admitted to the hospital, and I was assigned his files.”

Shane nodded slowly. “We should check him out just in case. For now, I spoke to the man who survived the raid on your house. Someone named Denny hired him, but he didn’t know why. They were supposed to kill us.”

Dread slammed into her stomach. Kill? She narrowed her gaze. “The police let you talk to the guy in the hospital?”

“Not exactly.”

Fear. It thrummed through her head until her ears rang. “Did you kill him?”

“Nope.” Shane looked her right in the eye.

Was he lying? She had no clue.

Her mind flashed back to her wedding day, and how he’d looked her right in the eye as he’d said his vows. The moment had been the happiest in her entire life. How could she be in love with a man she couldn’t read? He was an accomplished liar… and yet she wanted to trust him. But she didn’t, and the desire to do so ticked her off. Her head began to ache. She glanced at her watch. “Well, thanks for the update.” “I said I wouldn’t force you to leave with me today, but I’d like you to come with me voluntarily. Somewhere safe until I can figure out what’s going on here. Until I can remember.”

“No.” Curiosity had her tilting her head. Had he spoken the truth? Would he try to force her? Did she want him to?

He sighed. “Right now you’re fairly safe at Marsh’s. I can keep watch periodically, but I need to do some research.” He stood and prowled toward the door. “Do me a favor, will you? Call Detective Malloy for an update and see if he’s found out anything about me. About my past.”

“I’ll call him after lunch.”

“Now… please, Josie,”

She rolled her eyes and punched in the number.

“Malloy.”

She wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt. “Detective. It’s Josie Dean calling for an update.”

“Ah, yes. Well, Mrs. Dean, I can tell you that the military is quite hushed about your husband. Sealed files. Four years of service. But one interesting thing…”

She raised her gaze to Shane’s. “What’s that, Detective?”

“His unit worked within the United States. When you said he was out of the country, well, he wasn’t.”

She frowned. “Of course he was. While we were married, he left the country all the time.”

“Not according to my buddy, the one person who’d tell me anything. Apparently your husband worked exclusively within our borders. They won’t even tell me what it was that he was doing. He lied to you.”

“I see.” The news shouldn’t surprise her. Nor should it hurt. Yet her stomach ached. “Any ideas where he is?” She glared at the quiet man by the door. One word from her and Malloy would know exactly where the lying bastard stood.

“No. My guess is that he’s taken off.” A rustling of papers echoed across the line.

Josie sighed. “You don’t believe that.”