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  “Not for you it wasn’t,” Holly said. “You were in love with them.”

  She shrugged. There wasn’t anything else to do. Holly knew her way too well for Laura to lie. “It doesn’t matter. They’re here to update me on a case. That’s all.”

  If de Sade was back, then they probably wanted to grill her on what had happened during her time with him. God, she wasn’t ready for that. She’d spent five years trying to forget. She’d given them everything she could remember from the hospital bed she’d recovered in. She’d spent hours with Joseph Stone going over the incident, from the time she’d been knocked out to the moment she’d managed to break free and run.

  “Did they know you were in Bliss?” Nell asked.

  Laura was surprised they’d found her. She’d been using her granddad’s name. She’d tried to stay hidden. Maybe she’d been fooling herself and they’d known where she was all along. “No, but they’re members of the BAU. They’re smart guys.”

  “They track serial killers,” Holly said, obviously impressed. “I guess I always thought you were like a secretary or something.”

  She’d always known that was what Holly thought, and she’d encouraged the mistaken impression. She didn’t want Holly to think she’d had a high-powered career. Holly had several insecurities, mostly revolving around her lack of an education. Holly was incredibly well-read, but she felt her lack of a higher degree. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hide it anymore. Rafe and Cam had seen to that.

  “I was a profiler. I had moved up into the BAU, when I met Rafe and Cam. They were partners before they joined the unit. They flirted with me. A lot. We got to be friends, and then we had a slight disagreement over a case and we weren’t friends anymore. That’s all.”

  Holly’s eyebrows had crept up her forehead. “Is that how the serial killer found you? Because you were hunting him?”

  She’d only mentioned her career a couple of times before. Nate and Zane knew about it. Rye Harper knew. She’d always offered her experience to law enforcement, but she’d only mentioned it to the general population once during a town hall meeting. Still, it had made the rounds. It was a testament to Holly’s and Nell’s patience that they hadn’t asked her about it until now. “I wrote a profile of a serial killer the newspapers named the Marquis de Sade.”

  “He doesn’t sound nice,” Nell said.

  This wasn’t a world Nell could even conceive. Laura groped for gentle words. “He wasn’t. He killed a lot of women. I was new to the unit, and I had a radical theory. I thought the killer was a member of law enforcement or maybe in the military. There were things about the killer’s MO that led me to believe he was intensely disciplined and knew forensic procedure quite well. Anyway, everyone in the unit, including Rafe and Cam, thought I was wrong. There was another profiler, a more senior profiler, who bought into the stereotypical ‘highly intelligent, socially awkward, abused child’ profile. No one wanted to believe one of our own could do it.”

  They had refused to believe her to such an extent that she’d been ridiculed. She’d felt so horrible about all of it that she’d made the biggest mistake of her life. She’d talked to a reporter friend who had written a story, and the next day she’d been fired for talking to the media. She’d topped off that wonderful day by nearly being murdered. She’d been taken, right outside her own apartment.

  He’d worn a mask. When she closed her eyes, she still saw that dark, beaked mask, like doctors wore during the black plague. It had covered his whole face, and he’d placed dark mirrored circles over the eyes so she saw herself when he looked down at her. The nose of the mask had been elongated, making him look foreign and far from human. Of course, he wasn’t really human at all. No human being could have done what he’d done to her. The mask, he’d explained to her, was because she was dirty and diseased. He had to protect himself. He’d talked a lot about how smart he was. He’d talked as he’d tortured her.

  “Holly, could you please?” Nell asked.

  Holly nodded. “They are sons of bitches. Assholes, motherfuckers, and I hate them.”

  Nell nodded solemnly. “What she said.”

  Laura had to laugh. Nell didn’t curse, but she didn’t mind when Holly did. “They’ll be gone in a day or two. Don’t worry about it. They want to see if I remember anything else. Please, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. It’s over. Talking about it won’t hurt me.”

  She wasn’t sure of that. And she wasn’t sure this would be over in a day or two. Why was Cam here if he wasn’t in the FBI anymore? She had a million questions, but she couldn’t ask them without looking like an idiot.

  “All right then, we’ll play along with the whole ‘you’re marrying Wolf’ thing,” Holly said, getting to her feet.

  Nell followed. “I’ll stay perfectly silent around them. Henry will want a vow of silence in lieu of lying as well.”

  Laura gave Nell a thumbs-up.

  Her friends got dressed and promised to help in any way they could, but both seemed to understand she needed a minute. The curtain closed behind Holly as they left, and Laura was alone.

  The only two men she’d ever loved had turned up in the only place she’d ever really felt at home.

  It was a recipe for disaster. Laura couldn’t help it. She closed her eyes and thought about that night. The best night of her life, that led to the worst day.

  The world receded, and she was loved again.

  Chapter Four

  Washington, DC

  Five years before

  Laura Rosen pulled the cork out of the second bottle of wine of the night and poured two glasses. Cam wasn’t a wine guy, but Rafe liked it. After dinner, he would invariably switch to Scotch, but before they ate, Rafe always drank wine with her.

  What a fucking day.

  Her shoulders were bunched and knotted from twelve hours of pure stress. Looking at pictures of dead girls was no way to make a living. Why had she thought she could handle this?

  If she thought today was rough, what was coming for her tomorrow? When Edward Lock read her profile, he was going to flip. She knew she was in for a fight, but she owed it to those girls. Edward might have years of experience over her, but he was flat wrong this time. She could feel it. At least she could count on Rafe and Cam to back her up. She hadn’t showed them her profile yet. She didn’t want to ruin the night, but after a year of depending on those guys, she was sure they would stand by her.

  “Hey, bella.” Rafe’s hands slid along the muscles of her neck. She could feel the heat of his body behind her. “You’re so tense. It got to you today.”

  “Victim number five was barely nineteen,” she replied. And Rafe was wrong. It hadn’t merely gotten to her today. It got to her every day. Despite herself, she shivered as Rafe’s skin pressed against hers.

  It’s a friendly touch. Slow down, girl. This is not a place you should even think about going to.

  The trouble was, she’d thought about it far too much. She’d started to think of Rafe Kincaid as way more than a friend and a colleague. She hadn’t missed the way he looked at her. He ate her up with his eyes, and it was killing her. She would have jumped into bed with him in a heartbeat if it hadn’t been for one thing—Cameron Briggs.

  How could she have been stupid enough to fall for two men? Two men she worked with.

  “We’ll catch him, bella.” Rafe’s hands rubbed down her back, soothing the muscles there. Every inch of skin he touched came alive.

  “I’m not sure about that,” she murmured.

  God, his hands felt good. How long had it been since she’d been physically close to another human being? She hadn’t dated for a year and a half. She’d been far too involved in her career, and then she’d been far too involved with Rafe and Cam to think about other men.

  She’d kept it friendly. She was the only woman on her team. She was playing with fire by spending time outside of work with them, but she couldn’t help it. They were funny and kind. Rafe was her gentleman, constantly smoothing the
way for her. He opened doors and gave her his umbrella when it rained. They could talk about gourmet food and wine and books.

  And Cameron. Cam was her protector. Cam was a huge hunk of granite that got between her and anything that came her way. Cam was the one who called her at night to make sure she’d locked the doors. He was the one who insisted on installing a security system in her apartment. Cam was the one who got pissed at her when she walked to her car alone at night because she didn’t want to bother him.

  She couldn’t help but remember a case they’d worked in Detroit a month after she’d joined the team. It was a serial rape case, and they’d been put up in a motel that was seedy to say the least. She’d locked her doors, but when she’d emerged the next day, Cam had been sitting outside, his back against the moldy wall, a cup of coffee in his hand. His eyes had been so tired. He’d sat there all night because she had fit the profile, and he wasn’t going to let that happen to her. The next night, both he and Rafe had slept on the floor of her motel room.

  How could she ever choose between them? It was easier to put her hormones on hold and enjoy their company.

  Rafe stopped what he was doing, and she mourned the loss of his hands on her, but it was better this way. She could already feel the wine lowering her inhibitions. Rafe had drunk even more than she had, and Cam had tackled several beers. He’d had to walk to get the pizza. It was best if Rafe didn’t keep massaging her. It could go badly.

  “You have to know that he’ll slip up sometime. Killers always do.” Rafe leaned back against her countertop. He’d shed his suit coat, and his dress shirt was partially unbuttoned, showing off a bit of his perfect olive skin. He was a paragon of modern masculine beauty. From his wavy, pitch-black hair, to his laser-focused eyes, to those lips that Laura stared at, he was utter perfection.

  “I don’t know that,” she replied, trying to get her brain off those lips. What would they feel like on her mouth? God, what would they feel like on her nipples? The mere thought of his mouth suckling at her breasts made her nipples lengthen and rub against her bra.

  He shook his head as he grabbed the glass she’d poured for him. “They all screw up in the end because they all want to get caught. They want the fame or they want to be stopped, but one way or another, they want to get caught.”

  “I think this unsub is different than anything we’ve come up against. He comes off like a mission-oriented killer, but I think he’s a thrill seeker.”

  There were several small markers that led her to believe that the Marquis de Sade was playing a game. It went past the killing and the torture. He was playing a game with the FBI. If Laura was right, he was playing a game with his own family.

  “Don’t, bella. No more tonight. I can’t take anymore.” Rafe had been the one to take the call. Laura had only been forced to look at the pictures, but she knew Rafe had to walk into the room where they found the victim. He and Cam had to call the young woman’s mother and tell her that her daughter was never going to get it together and come home. “Can’t we wait until tomorrow to get back into this?”

  Yes. Tomorrow was soon enough to cause trouble. Her profile was going to be controversial. “Sure.”

  She took a sip of the deliciously rich cabernet. Rafe got very quiet. Just like that, the room felt thick with tension. She was alone with Rafe. He was right there. So close she could feel the heat of his body. She’d been alone for so damn long.

  “How long is this going to go on, bella?”

  She felt tears prick at her eyeballs, and she took a longer gulp of the wine. She wasn’t sure she was ready for this. Choices. She would have to make hard choices. Whether to leave her job wasn’t as hard as she would have thought. If she got involved with one of them, she would have to ask for a transfer, but she’d been thinking about that anyway. She’d been thinking of using her degree in psychology in the victim’s services department. All the death was getting to her.

  It was choosing between them that would kill her. Either way she went, she lost one of them.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Rafe.”

  “Because of Cam?”

  She nodded, unwilling to say that she was equally in love with two men. What kind of woman did that make her?

  “What if I told you that Cam and I have talked about this? What if I told you that Cam and I are willing to give you some time to make your decision? We’re not stupid, bella, and neither are you. We’ve both become very attached to you. Neither one of us wants to let you go, but we also have no interest in simply being your friend for the rest of our lives. I want you. I want you so badly I can taste it. Cam wants you, too.” Rafe’s hands came out and found the curve of her hip. He drew her forward until she was in the cradle of his body. He turned his head down, staring into her eyes. “Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll stop.”

  She set the wine down before she lost the glass. She could feel the long, hard line of his erection poking at her through the wool of his slacks. Her head was swimming with arousal. Her whole body felt like it was being primed for pleasure. She needed to move away from him, but her chin tilted up and then there was no escape.

  His lips brushed hers, a soft touch like silk kissing against her skin. Their noses scraped together. It was an innocent intimacy, but her heart was suddenly swollen with the sweetness of it. She lifted her head up and went onto her toes, silently requesting more.

  He went slowly, his lips pressing down on hers, seducing her mouth. He didn’t push her. He simply made love to her mouth with agonizing persuasion. He kissed her over and over, light touches to her lips. He pressed soft kisses starting on one side of her mouth, touching every inch, and then making the trip again once he’d gotten to the other side. His hands threaded through her hair, holding her still as he explored her face. He kissed her nose and her cheeks. She closed her eyes so his lips could touch her there, too. He kissed her forehead and then made his way back down. It was so much more than lust. Lust she might have been able to refuse, but Rafe’s tender care sucked her in like nothing before.

  “I want you so badly, bella.” The words were lyrical coming out of his mouth. When he was aroused, his Cuban accent flared, giving a round seduction to every word that flowed. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve never known a woman as beautiful as you.”

  She shuddered as Rafe’s tongue played along the seam of her lips, lighting a fire in her pussy. She was softening, preparing for him, and it felt too fucking good to deny. Her whole body had gone languid, waiting impatiently for his hands to roam across her skin.

  “Open for me, bella. Let me taste you.”

  She opened her mouth, and his tongue swept in. It glided across hers, begging her to play. It was wrong. She knew it was wrong, but it felt right. She cared about him. Hell, she loved him. Why was it wrong to have him? She needed him. The events of the day—of the whole last year—weighed on her so heavily that it was like a weight lifting to simply let go and feel. She gave in and let her hands cup his broad shoulders.

  “Yes, oh yes, bella.” He whispered the words against her mouth before he plunged inside. His tongue was rapacious now, as though he’d been let off a leash. His hands pulled her in as his mouth took hers. He pushed her against the countertop, taking up all the space. His cock ground against her pelvis. She heard herself whimper because his cock was hitting her clit, rubbing against it through his slacks and her skirt.

  Too tight. She couldn’t get her legs open. The pencil skirt she’d worn had seemed pretty and professional, but now it hemmed her in. She wanted to wrap her legs around Rafe’s hips and feel that massive cock against her pussy. It felt huge and rock hard. It would feel so good inside her.

  She let her hands run down his torso, deeply hating the fabric that covered him.

  “Feel me.” Rafe ripped open his dress shirt, the buttons pinging to the floor.

  Laura looked down to see his perfectly cut chest. She ran her fingers over the muscles of his stomach and up along his ribs. Every part of him wa
s smooth, the skin soft, but the flesh underneath was like steel. Rafe’s hands went to his belt. He unbuckled it and undid the top of his pants, revealing a thin line of dark hair that led down.

  She leaned over and did what came naturally. She kissed him from the hollow of his neck down, tasting his clean and masculine flesh. She licked at his flat nipples, loving the way they tightened for her. She gently worked her way around the nipple and then moved to the next one.

  “Bite me, bella. I like it rough. I want to feel your teeth on me.”

  The idea made her clench. Moisture was making her slick and wet for him. She bit down on his nipple and was rewarded with a sharp hiss.

  “Yes. That’s what I want. I want you wild.”

  If he wanted her wild, he was going to get his wish. Her heart was pounding, and her skin felt like it might pulse off her body. His gorgeous form was all there for her delectation, and she wasn’t about to hold back.

  She pushed at his pants and shoved his boxers down his lean hips. His cock sprang free. Touch hadn’t lied to her. He was huge and thick, with a spongy purple head. Laura shoved him back. In the small kitchen, there wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver. Rafe seemed to know what she wanted, and he leaned back, spreading his legs as she got to her knees. Her skirt forced her to keep her legs together, but she could move a bit. She breathed in the scent of his arousal before leaning over and licking the head of his cock.

  It jumped, and Rafe’s groan reverberated through the small kitchen. His heavy balls pulled up as she looked at him.

  “Please, bella. I need you. I’ve needed you for so long.”

  Laura let her mouth close over the head of his twitching dick. His arousal, thick and salty, spread across her tongue. She grasped the thick stalk of his cock with one hand as she worked her tongue over the V on the underside of his head.