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Die For Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer

Die For Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (For Me #1)(24)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Katherine was sleeping with the cop.

Damn her. She was screwing the man. She’d just met him. So much for her ice queen routine.

The binoculars had given a perfect view into Katherine’s house. She should have shut the f**king blinds in her kitchen. But, no, her kitchen lights had been blazing, and she’d let the cop put his hands all over her.

She’d twisted and pushed against him, looking desperate for his touch.

She was supposed to be the one who was special? She was just a whore. Katherine had shown her true colors.

She’d rushed from the kitchen with the cop. Gone upstairs but finally had the sense to turn off her light.

The binoculars were in the car now. No good anymore. Cops were at Katherine’s door. A cop was in her bed.

She’ll pay.

The fools thought Katherine was the target tonight.

No, Katherine wouldn’t be getting this package.

A few moments later, the car’s engine cranked up. The car slid slowly into the darkness. The cops didn’t even give the vehicle more than a cursory glance as it drove down the street.

It should have been harder. The thought came instantly. But killing wasn’t hard.

Especially when the world was full of such easy prey.

– 9 –

He woke to find Katherine curled around him. Her body was soft and sensual, she smelled lightly of strawberries, and her head was tucked onto his shoulder.

His hand was wrapped around her hip. Her leg rested on his thigh.

And it felt like he was in damn heaven.

Dane hadn’t intended to have sex with her the night before. Hell yes, he’d wanted her. Most sane men would want a walking wet dream like Katherine Cole, but…

He’d brought the condom along just in case the relentless fantasy in his head actually came true. A guy could hope, right? He hadn’t thought the lady would actually give him the green light. But then she’d looked at him with those big, deep eyes of hers.

And his self-control had been lost.

Pulling away from her would have taken more strength than he possessed. So it was a real damn good thing that the lady had been pulling him toward her. Not pushing him away.

He shifted his head on the pillow so he could look at her. She looked younger when she slept. Vulnerable. Her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks.

He could see the smooth skin of her shoulders. Creamy and—

His eyes narrowed even as his hand lifted, and carefully his fingers skated over the tip of her right shoulder. The skin was slightly raised. Not in just one spot, but four. Four rough circles. Old scars that looked like—

“They’re burns.” She didn’t open her eyes, but Katherine’s body was suddenly tense beside him. “Cigarette burns, to be exact.”

He’d seen a few burns like those before. Judging by the way they’d faded…“You were just a kid.”

“I guess Agent Wayne was right about my shared history with Valentine. We both had really screwed-up childhoods.” Her lashes were still covering her eyes, and he had the feeling that she was hiding from him. Or maybe it was just easier for her to talk without looking into his eyes.

“My mother was on drugs too—like his. And when she got high, she burned me.”

His jaw locked. “How long?”

“When I was nine, I went into the foster care system.”

Nine years. Had they all been hell? The scars said they had.

“The scars don’t matter, okay? They’re just marks on my body, nothing more.” Her lashes lifted. The gold in her gaze seemed to shine even brighter.

“Are there more?” Because these marks pissed him off. He didn’t want anyone or anything hurting her, ever.

“Not where you can see.”

She tried to pull away from him, but Dane wasn’t ready to let her go.

“You should have gone to the other room last night. After—” Katherine broke off and cleared her throat.

“After the f**king fantastic sex?” Because it had been incredible. The best he’d had, and Dane hadn’t exactly lived a pure life.

Her cheeks reddened.

Damn, the blushing was cute. “You sure as hell aren’t what I imagined.”

Her lips parted in surprise, and her face seemed to pale. “You mean since I was the lover of a serial killer, you expected something else from me?” Then she shoved against him. “I’m not the freak show the papers said I was. I’m not twisted or depraved or—” Her breath heaved out. “I’m just me.”

“Dammit, I meant—”

“The night’s over,” she snapped. “Time to return to reality.”

He’d rather return to the night, but Katherine had climbed out of the bed and jerked most of the covers with her.

Since he wasn’t the shy sort, Dane slowly rose to his feet. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Katherine’s head tilted back. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders. “Then what did you mean?”

“I didn’t expect to touch you and go from zero to lust in about two seconds.”

She blinked.

“I want you.” The woman would be pretty blind not to realize that fact, considering the heavy arousal he’d woken with—the arousal that was plain to see right then. “But our timing is pretty screwed at the moment.”

Her lips parted.

“If I weren’t working the case, I’d be wining and dining you.”

“You—” Katherine cleared her throat. “What do you want from me?”

Her trust. He had to have it in order to solve this case. But he couldn’t say that. So he stuck with the truth that he could give. “I want everything you can give me.” Because one time with her wasn’t going to be enough for him. Last night had just been a taste. He was a starving man.

But before he could say anything else, the doorbell rang. Hell. He glanced at his watch. Seven o’clock. Not quite time for a shift change, and even if it were, Dane wasn’t in the mood to leave. He and Katherine needed to clear the air some more.

But she was grabbing a robe and belting it. “What if they’ve found something else?”

She ran from the room, and he jerked on his jeans to follow behind her even though he already knew the cops hadn’t found anything. He would have gotten a phone call if they had.

He stalked down the stairs after her. Before she could open the door, he caught her arm and pulled her back. Dane looked through the peephole and swore.

“Who?” Katherine demanded. “Who is it?”

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