"How can you know that?"
He took a breath and exhaled it slowly. "Because any other scenario would be just too much of a coincidence."
"What? Where's the coincidence? Random street crimes happen all the time in the Quarter."
He met her eyes. "Not to me. Not a couple of weeks after I've discovered that one of the amethyst relics we removed from the ruin was stolen from the lab."
"What?"
"And not two weeks after a lab technician was found murdered. And not less than twenty-four hours after three of my people and two Guild men were trapped in that amethyst ruin."
"Hold on here." She held up a hand to stop him. "You're going way too fast for me. There's been a murder? Someone stole one of the amethyst relics? Why didn't you bother to mention any of this before?"
"It's complicated."
"You keep saying that."
He took another sip and lowered the glass. "Probably because it's the truth."
"I didn't hear anything about a murder in the AI lab and, trust me, I've been paying extremely close attention to any and all news of Amber Inc."
"I managed to keep it quiet. Hoped it would buy me a little time."
She shook her head and clicked her tongue against her teeth, making a tut-tutting sound. "So you lost one of the stones already? Nice going, Sweetwater. So much for all that sophisticated security AI was supposed to provide for those priceless archaeological relics."
"Doesn't make us look good, does it? We think the killer escaped into the jungle. Opened his own gate. You know how it is down there. You can't track anyone in the rain forest unless you have his locator frequency."
"I will give you credit for being able to keep the murder and the theft out of the media. Very impressive."
"Thanks."
She frowned. "And now you're telling me that you don't think those five people got caught in that ruin by accident last night?"
"No."
"But what was the point? Why would someone deliberately close that chamber on five people? For heaven's sake, they could have died in there."
"This is where the complications set in," he said.
"I'm listening."
"The really complicated part is that whoever is behind this is doing his or her best to make it look like there's only one obvious suspect in the murder, the theft, and the accident at the ruin."
"Who?"
He waited.
Comprehension finally struck. She straightened abruptly behind the counter, eyes huge with shock.
"Me?" she squeaked.
"Look at it from the point of view of the killer. Everyone knows there's been no luck rezzing those stones in the lab. Everyone thinks that you are the only talent around who can access the energy of those rocks, and everyone is aware that you have refused to cooperate in the research we've tried to conduct on them. Last but not least, everyone knows that you've been waging a one-woman vendetta against me and Amber Inc. That adds up to a lot of motive."
She looked as if she had just been kicked in the stomach.
"That's why you came back," she whispered. "You think I stole that artifact and murdered the technician."
"You know damn well that's not true." Fury and outrage twisted through him. He got up off the stool and circled the counter.
The sudden elevation of tension in the room must have alarmed Vincent. His fur sleeked back. His second set of eyes opened.
"Great," Cruz said. "Now I'm going to have to deal with an irate dust bunny. So much for the Sweetwater luck."
"Do you think I hired those two goons to kill you tonight, as well?" Lyra demanded.
"No." He closed the distance between them. "I came back to protect you."
"Right. You're from Amber Inc., and you're here to help me. And if I believe that, you've got a really nice amber mine treasure map you can sell me."
"I tried to avoid dragging you into this thing, but yesterday when that crew got trapped in the ruin, I knew that was no longer an option. Whoever is trying to set you up to take the fall is going to keep pushing in that direction until I get the point. The only thing I can do now is to make it look as if I've come to the conclusion that you're the most likely suspect."
"So you take me out for dinner?" Her voice rose with outrage. "Try to seduce me? That's supposed to convince the killer that you think I'm guilty?"
"Why not?" he said through his teeth. "It's what I did the first time around when I wanted to get the location of that ruin out of you. Remember?"
"How could I possibly forget? You are a deceitful, ruthless, cold-blooded son of a bitch, Cruz Sweetwater."
"Sometimes. But not tonight. Everything I'm telling you tonight is the truth. Including this."
He pulled her close and kissed her hard, willing her to sense the full force of the hot storm ripping through him, willing her to acknowledge the psychic bond between them, willing her to trust him. She had to trust him now, because her life depended on it.
For the first time in their relationship he held nothing back. There was no longer any reason to bank the fires of his need. He set free the prowling hunger and the aching, haunting, all-consuming desire that he had kept on a mag-steel leash for the past three months.
Heat and energy flared in the atmosphere around them as passion infused their auras. She planted her hands on his shoulders and wrenched her mouth away from his.
"Damn it," she gasped. "I do trust you. I'm pissed as hell, but I trust you. I must be an idiot."
"No," he said. "You feel it, too."
"Feel what?"
"The psychic link between us. It's not going to go away, Lyra. Take my word for it. I'm not going to go away. Not this time."
He trapped her against the counter and kissed her again. She shivered, and then, in the next instant, she came alive in his arms, hotter than ghost light. She kissed him back with a feminine ferocity that took his breath. They fought each other for the embrace. He finally managed to pin her against the counter. Breathing hard, he yanked open the robe. She was wearing a pair of black silk panties and a black silk bra but nothing else. The scent of her body was intoxicating.
He grasped her thighs and wrapped them around his waist. She clung to him, kissing his throat wildly. The delicate charms of her bracelet clashed sweetly, seductively, just as they had in his dreams.
"It's because of what happened earlier," she gasped.
"What are you talking about?" he growled against her breast.
"I've read about it. The aftereffects of adrenaline and violence and using a lot of psi energy. It makes people want to have sex. Something to do with hormones and stuff. Survival instinct."
"Do me a favor and shut up," he said very softly.
"Okay."
He picked her up and carried her around the kitchen counter, heading for the bedroom. He spared a single glance for Vincent. The dust bunny was fully fluffed once more, munching contentedly on his cookie.
Satisfied that he was not going to have to fend off Vincent, he paused just long enough to de-rez the lights. The loft was plunged into shadows drenched with the luminous emerald glow of the ancient quartz wall.
He angled Lyra through the opening in the sliding screens that veiled the bedroom and dropped her lightly on the bed. She lay there, swathed in the pristine white robe, her dark hair tangled around her face, and looked up at him with half-closed eyes. Her cheeks were flushed. Her mouth was soft and full from his kisses.
He got his shirt off with a few quick, impatient motions and sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes. He got rid of the ankle sheath and the knife at the same time and kicked them out of sight under the bed before Lyra could see the weapon. She'd already had enough violence for one night. The last thing he wanted to do now was spoil the mood.
A moment later he was where he had been in his dreams every night since he'd met her: on the bed and on top of Lyra. She twisted sleekly beneath him, warm and vital. Her arms went around his neck. He opened his senses, drugging himself on her scent and her energy.