Die For Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (For Me #1)(39)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“Katherine!” Ross yelled. She knew he wanted her to stop.

But she knew she couldn’t.

The reporters were shouting their questions, one after another in a dizzying blur. She ignored them and stared into the camera nearest her. She wanted a message delivered, and the media would be her delivery service.

“I’m here,” she said again and lifted her chin. “So if you’re hunting because of me, then come for me. Not anyone else. Just me.”

She heard low, vicious curses, and then Ross put his hand around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. “I’m U.S. Marshal Anthony Ross.” His voice boomed out. “And all future questions had better be directed at me and my office.”

There wasn’t a need for Katherine to say more. She knew her clip would air on TV, again and again, and that was exactly what she wanted.

Give the killer a challenge. Give him me.

Ross bent his head. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Why?”

But he knew. He had to know.

So she pulled back, gave him a grim smile, and said, “Because someone has to stop him.”

And she was tired of having blood on her hands.

Then Dane was there. Face locked in angry lines. Jaw tense. As Ross turned back to the reporters, Dane glared at Katherine. “You put yourself out there as bait.”

Yes, she had. But why was that so surprising? They both knew that he’d planned to use her as bait from the very beginning. There was no reason to pretend otherwise.

Now they’d just see what Valentine did next.

Dane pretty much dragged Katherine back inside the station. Cops were watching them with wide eyes. The captain was staring at her, shaking his head. Evelyn was seated near a desk, with two uniforms glowering down at her.

Dane didn’t stop walking. He pulled Katherine with him, then pushed her inside the interrogation room that was becoming too annoyingly familiar to her.

“Dane, look, I—”

He slammed the door behind him. His mouth crashed down on hers.

She should push away from him. Should tell him to stop. She shouldn’t wrap her arms around his shoulders and yank him closer. She shouldn’t open her mouth wider. Shouldn’t kiss him harder.

A dozen cops waited outside. The vulture reporters were salivating at the chance to tear her apart.

She shouldn’t be doing this.

But she needed him more than she needed air right then.

“Dane.” She forced herself to speak. To grab onto the self-control that was shredding.

His fingers were wrapped around her hips. Holding tight. His head lifted. His blue gaze blazed. “You think I’ll just stand back and let you get hurt?”

She hadn’t thought about what Dane would do. She just wanted to stop the killing. To get the murderer’s attention. Katherine made herself take a deep breath. Her gaze drifted from him—she couldn’t stare into his eyes right then—and landed on the two-way mirror. Her body tensed. “Is anyone—”

“There are no suspects in here, so no one’s watching. It’s just us.” His breath expelled in a hard rush. “Bait. You put yourself up as f**king bait.” His fingers bit into her hips. “Why? Do you want to die?”

There was a rap at the door. “Dane?” Mac’s voice.

“Give me a minute!” Dane snarled back. Katherine realized he’d pinned her between his body and the door. His muscled frame pressed against her. She should have felt trapped. Should have been angry, afraid.

But Dane had never made her feel fear. Her heart beat too fast. Adrenaline spiked in her blood. But it wasn’t fear driving her, not with him.

“Whatever I have to do, I’ll keep you alive.” His words were a vow. “Just don’t ever do something like that again.”

Then he was kissing her once more. A kiss that was still angry, still rough with desire, but also…desperate.

She knew desperation when she felt it.

When he released her, Katherine’s breath panted out.

He took a step back. Clenched his hands into fists and seemed to be fighting for his own self-control. “If the killer comes after you, he’ll have to go through me first.”

She couldn’t allow any weakness. Dane was a weakness. She needed to separate from him while she still could. She turned her back on him and reached for the door.

She twisted the doorknob.

His hand flew up and slammed the door shut. Then he leaned in behind her. His breath brushed lightly over her ear. Ross had been this close to her on the steps outside the police station. Only she hadn’t felt this desperate tension in her body then. Too much awareness. Too much need.

It was only for Dane.

Her heart raced even faster in her chest. “You don’t know me,” she said again—because he couldn’t. She didn’t want him to know the secrets she carried.

He backed up a step.

They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Stay here.” His words weren’t an order this time, but almost a plea. “If you don’t agree to stay on your own, I will put you in protective custody—or else the marshal will take you away. You know Ross isn’t going to just let you walk out of the station alone.”

No, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t consider his job over.

Even if she did.

“Okay.” The agreement slipped from her.

Dane heaved out a hard breath. Then he nodded. His gaze swept over her face. “Thank you.”

Dane might think he was going to be her protection, but the truth was, she’d only agreed to stay for one reason.

To keep him safe.

Because Trent hadn’t been a random victim. She’d dated him. The only man she’d dated since Valentine.

And Trent had gotten a knife thrust into his heart.

So what would happen to Dane? To the man that she’d actually slept with?

“I’ll stay,” she whispered once more, because she owed him. He’d made her feel alive again.

“You do like to watch, don’t you, Wayne?”

Marcus Wayne jumped at the police captain’s low, drawling voice. He hadn’t heard the other man come into the observation room. He’d been so absorbed by the detective and Katherine…

But the detective was leaving the interrogation room now. Katherine was all alone.

Marcus glanced over his shoulder at the captain. “I was here when they entered the room.” Pure chance. He’d just wanted a quiet place to think. He certainly hadn’t expected to see what he’d witnessed.