What I can do is."
"Maybe to you." She paused, then decided to push him a little more. Gentle persuasion certainly wasn't getting her much in the way of information. "You know, I met a rather sexy plumber on the way to the restroom. In two minutes I found out more about him than I have with you in an hour.
Maybe I should just leave and seek out a partner more willing to share."
His grip tightened on her shoulder, his touch almost bruising. "You are mine."
"I belong to no one but myself."
The sudden edge of anger in her voice was unforced. If there was one thing guaranteed to raise a shifter's ire, it was the notion of "ownership." Way back in the past, before shifters had gained rights in the eyes of the law, they were considered genetic freaks who were more animal than human, so humans had been able to own, and generally abuse, a shifter as they saw fit. Even now, hundreds of years later, the mere mention of ownership or control was a guarantee of a firefight. And Grey, being a shifter himself, should have known better than to use such a word.
"And if I choose to walk out of here," she continued hotly.
"I will do so, and you had better not try to stop me."
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His gray eyes showed a moment of indecision, and perhaps just a little frustration, then it was gone, lost to the wintry depths.
He raised his hands. "If you want to walk, then do so now." His voice was flat, yet the air between them fairly burned with anger. Not hers. His. And it was aimed as much at himself as her. Odd, to say the least. "Because if you stay," he continued, "you will hold to our bargain. And be very aware of the fact that I intend to make you mine."
As much as she tried to retain her anger at his words, she couldn't. How could she, when being his for the night equaled many hours of sensual, erotic delights?
Yet as she continued to stare into the stormy depths of his eyes, she wasn't at all sure he was talking about just a night.
The shiver that ran across her skin was part anticipation, part alarm. And totally stupid. After all, hadn't he already stated he was merely cruising? That he wasn't looking for anything permanent?
For that matter, neither was she. Obviously, common sense had flown out the window in the scramble for satisfaction.
"All I'm asking is a fair exchange of information."
"What I do for a living doesn't affect what we both want—
or what I intend to do to you. Why are you so intent on delving into my life, when, right now, all that matters is quenching what lies between us?"
His voice was still flat, but his suspicion wasn't only in his words but swirling in the heated air between them. He was far too wary to be an innocent man, and yet, something within her just couldn't see him as a killer. Not of innocent, lonely women, anyway.
Or did she simply want to believe that so she could be free to enjoy his touch without regret, without worry?
"I don't think wanting to know a little more about you is unreasonable. Even if both of us know nothing will come of this liaison." She sat up. "This is ridiculous. I don't even know why I'm here."
He raised an eyebrow at that, an almost condescending smile touching his luscious lips. "You're here for the same reason I am. Amazing sex."
True, but he was here for reasons other than sex. Exactly what those reasons might be was what she had to uncover.
Amazing sex might be a pleasant by-product of her investigations, but it couldn't be the total sum. Not with this man. "I'm here to find a man to have kids with. You're merely playing. Truth is, I'm wasting my time with you."
"Great sex is never a waste of time."
She swung her legs off the bed and walked over to grab her dress. His expression was amused, as if he didn't really believe she'd actually walk out the door.
And suddenly she knew that's exactly what she had to do.
The suspicion that stung the air, as well as the way he reacted to personal questions, suggested he was well aware that she was here to find out more about him. It didn't matter why he suspected her, just that he did. And if she wanted to retrieve the situation, she'd have to walk out. Staying would only confirm his suspicions—and that could be dangerous.
"Great sex is something I can find anywhere. I'm after a whole lot more." There was a ring of truth in her words that surprised even her. "Thanks for reminding me about that."
She grabbed her shoes, then turned her back on him and walked out.
And tried to ignore the frustrated screaming of her hormones.
Chapter Three
"Well, this is an unexpected turn of events," Jack said into her ear. "Me and the boys were set for a night of blissful sighs and ear-shattering yodels."
"So was I," Eryn said dryly. She pulled herself onto the vanity and leaned back against the mirror. The glass was cool against her spine, and the water she'd splashed her face with earlier dripped from her chin to her chest. Neither one did anything to ease the overheated condition of her skin. "But he's suspicious, and I really had no other option."
"An innocent man had no reason to be suspicious over anything you said."
"I don't think he's the killer."
"Is that intuition or frustration speaking?"
"Both, if I'm at all honest."
"If there's one thing you've been, it's bluntly honest."
Amusement touched Jack's deep voice. "And I have to say, it's shocked some of the boys here."
"They need to stop huddling in that van with you and get out in the real world more."
"I keep telling them that, but I think they're enjoying the voyeurism aspects of our job."
"Well, I guess it's cheaper than renting pornos. Where's Grey?"
"Still in the room."
"He's waiting for me to come back." She said it as a statement rather than a question, simply because she sensed it was true. Though why he was so confident she would come back was beyond her. They might share a connection that went deeper than the usual sexual link of shifters, but they were still strangers.
"Looks like it," Jack agreed.
"You uncovered any more facts about him yet?"
"We're checking files for unsolved murder cases."
"He didn't say it was unsolved," she interrupted.
"No, but I'm guessing from his tone it was. And given what he said about money, it'll probably be a high society murder, which at least narrows the search field."
"Anything else?"
"No. The man's identity has been wiped clean."
Just like his scent. It had to be deliberate. "There's been no information or help forthcoming from military, FBI or CIA?"
" 'They're looking into it' is the latest response. I'm not holding out hope that they'll be much help."
"So you don't think Grey's one of their men?"
"No. But he's somebody's."
She hoped that "somebody" was on the side of good.
Hoped Grey was. She had a feeling he'd be a dangerous man to be on the wrong side of.
"So, what do I do now? Leave?"
"I don't think that's an option, given what you told Grey."
She grinned. "Meaning I have permission to go forth and fornicate?"
"You have official approval to do what you have to do to maintain cover."
"Hot damn."
Jack laughed. "Who said undercover work wasn't fun?"
"Not me." She hesitated. "What about Gantry and Harrison?"
"Gantry's still a no show. Harrison's talking to a pretty brunette." He stopped. "Grey's on the move."
"Where?"
"Heading down the stairs."
Her pulse raced with excitement. "Towards the restroom?"
"No."
Damn, she thought, disappointed.
Jack continued, "He's headed towards the back booths.
Seems to be angling toward Harrison."