Melting The Ice. Лорет Энн Уайт

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      She wrenched free and lunged for the light switch. Light flooded the small apartment.

      She whirled round to confront him. “Damn you, Rex Logan! What in hell are you doing in Amy Barnes’s apartment?”

      “Lord, woman.” He pushed past her, drew the blinds in a deft movement. “Keep your voice down.”

      Uneasiness prickled up the nape of her neck. He looked lethal, dressed in black from head to foot. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. His hair was black gloss, and he’d let it grow. It gave him a wild look. The only light thing about him was the glacial ice in his stare. A devil with Arctic eyes. The contrast was startling, unnerving. Almost inhuman.

      “You shouldn’t be here, Hannah.” His words were low, threatening.

      “You’re the one with no right to be here.” Anger started to boil up, displacing her fear. She could feel the heat of color spilling back into her cheeks. “Give me one good reason not to call the cops and have your sorry ass kicked behind bars, Rex Logan.” She realized she was shaking.

      “You do that and you won’t find out what really happened to Amy Barnes.”

      She was stunned into silence.

      He took a step closer. “Talk to me, Hannah. Tell me why you’re in a dead woman’s apartment at night.” He was unnerving her with his steady blue gaze. She was determined to hold it, not to look away and give him the upper hand.

      “What makes you think I believe anything happened to Amy?”

      “I know you, Hannah. You don’t let things lie. Never did. That’s why you were good. One of the best. That’s why you’re here, tonight, isn’t it? You’re looking for something.”

      She pushed the hair back from her face in an effort to clear her head. Rex stepped even closer. The air crackled between them. She edged backward, toward the phone. Blood drummed in her ears.

      “What has any of this got to do with you, Rex?”

      “I’m looking for answers. Like you. I don’t believe Amy’s death was an accident.”

      Hannah took another step back toward the phone and reached behind her for the receiver.

      He was on her in an instant, had her pinned up against the wall, her heart jackhammering against her rib cage. He reached and took the receiver from her hand. Placed it firmly back in the cradle. “No cops.”

      She was afraid now. This man was no stranger to attack. He moved like a black jungle cat and had the same power. Hannah swallowed, her throat tight. She tried to speak. “What do you want from me, Rex?”

      He held her, up against the wall, a brutally intimate embrace. He leaned in, placing his mouth between her fall of hair and her ear. “More than you’ll ever know, McGuire.” The hot whisper, painfully seductive, snaked through her. A serpent of unwanted desire.

      He reached up, slowly took a handful of her hair, gently twisted it through gloved fingers and let it fall back onto her shoulder. It was an achingly intimate gesture. She began to tremble inside. Emotion pricked hot behind her eyes. Damn him. Damn this man from her past. He was pulling the threads of her life apart.

      “Come.” He took her wrist, led her to a chair. She was powerless.

      “Sit.”

      He faced her, seated on the coffee table, his knees almost touching hers. “You gate crashed my party, Hannah. You play by my rules now. That means no police.”

      “I…I don’t understand. Who are you, Rex? What’s going on?”

      “I found something. Something that makes me think Amy Barnes got herself into trouble. It may have gotten her killed.”

      Confusion spiraled through her brain. “You don’t mean murder?”

      “I think she was sticking her nose where it wasn’t wanted.”

      “What…what did you find?”

      Again he sidestepped her question. “But if you take this to the cops, you’ll get nowhere. No answers. The police are not going to help you. Trust me on this.”

      Trust? She’d trusted Rex Logan once before. She thought she’d known this man. She looked at him now; he was a stranger. A dangerous one. And the cops were his Achilles’ heel. Why?

      “And if I do go the cops, what happens to you? You going to try and stop me?”

      “You’ll tie me up in bureaucratic red tape, that’s what. Then it’ll be too late.”

      “For what?”

      He dragged his hands through his hair and blew out a stream of frustration. “Christ, Hannah, why’d you have to walk into this?”

      “What, exactly, have I walked in to, Dr. Logan? Who the hell are you?”

      He stared at her, assessing.

      “Look, either you tell me what the hell is going on or I go to the RCMP detachment right now.”

      He stood up, paced, turned to face her. “I can’t tell you. It’s classified.”

      She pushed herself to her feet. “What do you mean you can’t tell me? What do you mean ‘classified’?”

      He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “Hannah, work with me on this. Trust me.”

      “Work with you? Trust you? You won’t tell me what the hell is going on. You won’t tell me who you are, why you’re sneaking around like a thief and you expect me to work with you?”

      “You shouldn’t have come here.”

      “Screw you, Logan. I had every right to come here.” She pushed past him and stalked from the apartment, slammed the door behind her.

      Hannah stepped out onto the pedestrian walkway into the clean night air still shaking with adrenaline. She’d done it again. Fled. Damn him. She looked back up at the second floor. Amy’s apartment was once again in darkness.

      Rex lifted the blind slightly with the back of his hand and looked down into the street to watch her go. He saw her stop, turn and look back up at the window. Instinctively he shifted farther back into the dark shadows. Her hair shimmered pale gold in the lamplight, like an angel’s.

      Blast.

      Hannah was not working her way into his investigation, she had crashed slap-bang into the middle of it. So much for trying to stay out of her way while he was in White River.

      And after finding what he had in Amy’s apartment, Hannah could be at risk if she insisted on digging. If his suspicions were correct, Hannah’s curiosity may already have landed her in hot water. Very hot water.

      Oh, the bittersweet irony.

      He’d walked out of her life six years ago to keep her safe.

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