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Her body pressed ever closer. A certain part of Joel’s anatomy appreciated that closeness. She had to feel that appreciation, unfortunately.

  “Who do you think the accomplice is?” Chloe asked.

  “Ah…” He cleared his throat. Tried to stop greedily gulping her strawberry scent. “I’m…I’m not playing your game.”

  “Why not? Talking to me obviously keeps you distracted so that you forget the fact you’re trapped in this tiny closet. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Welcome? You expect me to thank you for trapping me?”

  “No, but you can thank me for keeping you distracted.”

  She…actually was. The throbbing in his temples and the fierce constriction in his chest had eased a little.

  “You’re very strong. Though I did notice some of the scars on your arms. Knife wounds?”

  He wasn’t replying.

  Her sigh blew over him. “Fine. We’ll talk about the scars another time.”

  No, they would not. There would not be another time for them. After he walked out of the bank, he planned to never, ever see her again.

  “Who do you think the accomplice is?” Chloe pushed. “Come on, tell me.”

  “The guy came in alone.”

  “Because his partner was already here.”

  Their gazes held.

  Her eyes widened. “You have gold in your eyes. I thought your eyes were just brown, but they’re not. I don’t usually miss details like that on the first glance.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Joel muttered, “we all make mistakes.”

  Her lips parted. Red and slick and why was he thinking about kissing her? No, no, very much no.

  Her smile became smug. “You don’t know who the accomplice is.”

  Because there wasn’t an accomplice—

  “Fine. I’ll tell you. This time. But I expect you to do better in the future.”

  They had no future together.

  “It was the bank teller. The one with red hair. She dropped down too fast. I knew it had to be an inside man, so I was watching. As soon as Harry walked in the door, before he even flashed his gun, she was hitting the floor.”

  Was that…right? Huh. It might just be. Joel tried to replay the scene in his head.

  Her tone turned slightly musing as she continued, “I’ll have to get the cops to go back and talk to all the tellers involved in the previous robberies. I’m betting Harry gave a teller at each bank a slice of his haul as payment for services rendered. You know, they tell him the layout of the bank, the best time to come in, how to catch the security officer off-guard…”

  “The redhead,” Joel heard himself say because this was making sense to him. “She called out to the security guard right before Harry knocked the guy out with his gun. She had ducked behind the counter, but she screamed for security.” And had he just called the robber Harry? Like it was a thing now? What was Chloe doing to him?

  But he could have sworn her blue eyes were gleaming with approval.

  “Exactly. Her scream distracted the guard so that Harry could have his perfect hit.” A nod. “And this is why I had to bust Harry in the act. So much easier for the cops to come in when he’s working with his latest partner…”

  And this was why he was about to bust out of the closet. “The cops aren’t coming. No one had a chance to sound the alarm. If the redhead is working with him, you can bet she made sure the authorities weren’t alerted.”

  Her hand curled around his neck. He felt her lean up against him. He bent toward her. Chloe’s lips feathered over his ear as she whispered, “I sounded the alarm. I called the cops.”

  Why was her voice so much lower now? But, did it even matter why? Because he sure loved the feel of her mouth on his ear. So wrong. So right.

  “They’ll be here in five, four, three…”

  She was doing a countdown. That was why she’d gotten so quiet. The cops were about to burst in and she was—

  He heard an explosion. His body hurtled against hers, and they slammed into one of the shelves in the closet. Cleaning solution hit the floor. Paper towels rained down on his head. And he held her as tightly as he could.

  “You okay?” Joel demanded.

  “Of course.”

  Of—jeez. He freed her. Spun away. Kicked at the lock on the closet door. The lock and doorknob shattered, and the door flew open. He ran out and headed straight for the chaos. At least half a dozen uniformed cops swarmed the scene.

  Had they blown open the entrance to the bank? SWAT members were there, wearing their distinct tactical gear, and it sure as hell looked like they’d set off a mini-bomb at the entrance. Harry was on the floor, being cuffed as he snarled and shouted. The bank manager was still sobbing near his desk. The young kid was helping the older lady rise to her feet. And the bank tellers were all being ushered toward the door by concerned cops.

  “Stop the redhead!” Chloe called out as she rushed to Joel’s side. “She’s his accomplice!”

  At Chloe’s shout, the redhead whirled. She shoved the uniformed cop away from her. Fury tightened the woman’s face as her hand dove into her purse, and she came up holding—

  Great. A gun.

  The redhead pointed the gun straight at Chloe. That was twice in ten minutes. She’d had two guns pointed at her within ten minutes. And for the second time, Joel leapt in to save her ass. Only this time, the gun actually fired.

  The bullet blasted across his arm as he tackled Chloe once again.

  Chapter Two

  “Your hero complex will get you killed.”

  The man who sat—grudgingly and grumpily—in the back of the ambulance glared at Chloe.

  The scene outside of the bank was controlled chaos. Always the aftermath in situations such as this one. The would-be hero had been shot, really only a minor flesh wound, though, and the cops had grabbed the redhead before she could fire again.

  “I don’t think it’s my hero complex,” the man fired back. Handsome. In a chiseled, rugged kind of way. An accent had a faint drawl deepening his voice. Texas accent. “I think it’s you. You are going to get me killed.”

  That was a slightly insulting thing to say. Given her line of work, it could also be true.

  “My arm is fine,” he snapped as he looked over at the EMT. “Barely a graze. No stitches needed. For the record, I didn’t have to be carried out of the bank. Totally unnecessary.”

  No, he hadn’t needed to be carried. But it had been a rather fun sight. All six-foot-three, two hundred pounds of him…loaded onto a stretcher against his will. Just for a little scrape.

  The EMT’s face took on a mutinous expression as the woman opened her mouth to reply.

  “I’m a doctor,” the would-be hero explained, voice softer, less I’m-out-of-all-patience. “I know a simple graze when I see one. Thank you for your help, but I’m okay.”

  At his softened tone, the EMT smiled. The hero smiled, too. He had a rather nice smile. A dimple flashed in his left cheek.

  Then he glanced at Chloe.

  His smile vanished. He went back to glaring.

  Chloe rolled one shoulder. The New Orleans heat poured onto her. She hated the heat, mostly because it was constant in the South. She could feel the silk of her shirt sticking to her back. Could practically see the heat making the air thick all around her. The would-be hero climbed out of the ambulance. He straightened to his full, rather impressive height. His dark hair—a little too long—was tousled. Probably because he kept raking his fingers through it. A faint scar cut across his upper lip. It gave him a sexy, dangerous edge, but she doubted he thought of the mark in those terms.

  There were other faint marks on him. On his neck. On his arms. Beneath his clothes, yes, she was sure scars were there, too. Careful, slow cuts that had been handed out by someone who knew and understood exactly how to administer pain. The cuts had been designed to torment. To break.

  But she didn’t think that her would-be hero had broken.

  She was also just
staring at him as he loomed over her. Her bad. She wasn’t usually so blatant about things.

  The EMT hurried away when someone else called out to her. Chloe was rather glad to see the other woman go. She wanted a moment alone with the man who’d tried to rescue her. Twice. So cute. And so many people said there were no gentleman left these days. Wrong.

  After a tense moment, Chloe cleared her throat. Occasionally, she did try to do things the polite way. This was one of those times. One of those exceedingly rare times. “I didn’t catch your name, Doctor…?”

  He squinted at her. After a tense moment, his lips curled. “You know so much. I can’t believe you don’t already know that, too.”

  Well, if he wanted the truth, she did know. Her lips parted—

  “Joel Landry.” He offered his hand to her. “I’m not a practicing doctor any longer. I just said that so she’d stop poking at me.”

  Chloe took his hand. Felt the calluses beneath her fingers. The easy strength. “Do you miss being a doctor?”

  “No.” His hold tightened on her. “It wasn’t for me any longer.”

  His grip wasn’t about one of those show-of-strength situations. She’d encountered enough emotionally weak men who did that. No, it was more of…

  More of an I-don’t-want-to-let-you-go hold.

  How strange.

  Because she was tightening her hand on him the same way.

  Catching herself, Chloe immediately stopped. She tugged on her hand. A beat of time passed, and he let her go. His fingers slid across her palm before his hand dropped back to his side.

  Even when he let go, she could have sworn that she still felt the heat from his touch.

  “Hastings! Chloe Hastings!”

  She recognized the voice that was bellowing her name. Business was calling. There would be explanations to make. Paperwork to sign. Checks to collect. The usual. All in a day’s work for her, really. Time to make her departure. “It was good to meet you, Dr. Landry.”

  “Forget the doctor part. It’s just Landry.” His voice was a growl. “Or Joel.”

  No, I don’t think you are ever “just” anything. The man was unusual. He’d committed a truly fatal sin while in the bank with her. He’d made her curious.

  Few things could penetrate the veil that seemed to surround her. Chloe had always known she was different from other people. She didn’t respond to things the way others did. She didn’t laugh often. She didn’t feel the rush of emotions that others seemed to enjoy so easily.

  Most days, she felt as if nothing at all touched her.

  Today, Joel Landry had touched her.

  “You’re quite an unforgettable man,” she told him with complete sincerity.

  “Trust me, lady, you are—”

  “Chloe! Dammit, I know you heard me calling your name!” The growling voice of Detective Cedric Coleman was coming from right behind her.

  Joel had stiffened slightly when the other man approached. A small movement, but one she’d noticed. After all, she noticed everything. Part of her gift. Or curse. Or whatever the world wanted to call it. Personally, Chloe had never cared very much for labels.

  Cedric’s hand curled around her shoulder. “Are you okay?” His voice dropped with concern.

  “I’m perfectly fine.” But his concern was kind. Chloe waved toward Joel. “He’s the one who was grazed by a bullet.” Unnecessarily. Hero complex.

  Cedric yanked out his ID and flashed it at Joel. “Police Detective Cedric Coleman.” Both men were of similar height. But while Joel appeared decidedly rugged with his rough, good looks and the muscles that she could see straining against the old t-shirt he wore—a bloody t-shirt, now, thanks to the shooter—Cedric was far more elegant. Even at crime scenes, he dressed to impress, though she had no idea why he felt the need to do that. Cedric was one of the best cops that she’d ever met. That was the reason she kept working with him instead of moving on to another city.

  Before Cedric, she had been moving a lot. City to city. Tracking, always tracking her elusive prey. But Cedric had asked her to stay.

  So she had.

  But perhaps it was time to leave again. She couldn’t quite decide yet.

  Cedric shoved his ID back into his pocket. His suit coat slid with the movement to reveal the holster on his hip. He quickly smoothed his coat back into position, crossed his arms over his chest, and glowered at Joel. The sun kept beating down on him, but not a drop of sweat marred Cedric’s skin. How did he do that?

  While he looked perfect, she was melting. Summers in England were very, very different from the sweltering days in Louisiana.

  “You were shot inside the bank?” Cedric asked Joel. Cedric paced a little away from Chloe as he seemed to size up Joel.

  “Grazed,” Joel replied blandly. “Barely a graze.”

  “You’re lucky. People who hang with Chloe usually get much worse.”

  That was rude. And uncomfortably true. Cedric had actually taken a knife to the ribs when he’d been hunting with her a few months back. “And here I thought you were concerned about me.” His concern had obviously been fleeting.

  “I am concerned.”

  She lifted her brows. He no longer sounded concerned.

  “Fine, I was concerned, but I can see now that you’re not hurt, and that’s great but…” A frustrated exhale. Poor Cedric. She knew that he tended to get frustrated quite a bit when they worked together. Most people had that reaction to her. “Chloe, why the hell were you even working this case?” Cedric blasted as his voice rose. Definitely annoyed now. “You know that you are supposed to be—”

  “Hey, buddy!” Joel’s voice.

  Chloe lifted a brow when Joel stepped between her and Cedric.

  “How about not yelling at her?” Joel advised flatly. “She’s had one hell of a morning.”

  The morning honestly hadn’t been that unusual for her. Chloe cocked her head. She should explain a few things to Joel. “Cedric isn’t your buddy. He’s someone who can arrest you if you piss him off.” Had he not paid attention to the ID and badge? “I wouldn’t piss him off.” Also, Cedric only raised his voice that way when he was worried. She knew he was currently under a great deal of stress. She’d promised to help him with that situation, and Chloe had every intention of keeping her promise.

  Joel glanced back at her. “I piss people off all the time. Part of my charm.”

  Was it now? Even more interesting.

  “You just caught a bank robber—two of them from where I stand—so I figure the cops should be treating you with a little more respect, and not, you know, jumping down your throat.” His voice roughened. His head swung toward Cedric once more. “Maybe you and all the personnel in NOPD uniform here should take a minute to calm down and—”

  Cedric stepped to the side so that he stared at Chloe once more. “Where did you find him?”

  Joel had been trying to protect her. His body position and tenseness indicated that he felt she’d been threatened, so he’d moved to place himself between her and Cedric. Just as he’d tried to shield her in the bank. Fascinating.

  But, oh, Cedric was waiting for a response so she would have to pause her analysis of Joel and his behavior. For the moment. “I met him in the bank.” Wasn’t that obvious? Cedric usually picked up on details faster than this.

  “Yeah, figured that.” The detective rolled his eyes. After a tense moment—she knew he was counting to ten, he always counted to ten when he was trying to remain calm—Cedric pointed a finger at Joel. “Look, buddy,” he threw at Joel, “I get that you took a graze today and you feel all hundred feet tall and super-hero-like now, but that’s the adrenaline talking. You’ll come back to reality soon, and you’ll be glad that I got you away from Chloe Hastings. Trust me on this.” He motioned to Chloe. “Come on. We need to go. Now.”

  She understood Cedric’s irritation. She’d taken a side job, but there was other work waiting. Always.

  But she saw that Joel’s hands clenched into fists. He to
ok a step toward Cedric. “This is hardly my first brush with danger, and the last thing I feel like is a superhero.”

  Yet he kept displaying a hero complex…

  Some of the tension slid from Cedric’s face as he eyed Joel with a hint of more respect. The detective clapped a hand around Joel’s shoulder. “Answer the questions from the cops here, then get home. After that, take some advice from me.”

  Joel waited for the advice.

  “Forget Chloe. You’ll be a happier man for it.”

  That was insulting. First of all, she was unforgettable. Second, she also didn’t think… “He’s not happy,” Chloe said.

  Joel stiffened. His head angled toward her.

  “You’re not happy.” She could see it. “You’re going through the motions each day. Struggling with a past that won’t let you go. It’s a shame, because you truly have so much potential.”

  “Lady, what do you know about me and my past?”

  So very much. She gave him a smile. “It was good to meet you, Dr. Landry. Our partnership today was more than I expected.”

  Joel shook his head and appeared a bit horrified. “I told you, it’s just Joel. And we aren’t partners! Don’t know where you got that idea, but we are not partners. Are not, were not, and never will be.”

  “No?” Chloe pursed her lips. “That’s too bad.” She inclined her head. “Enjoy the rest of your day. I need to go with the detective.”

  Cedric nodded. “About time…” He quickly moved to her side. “There’s been another one,” he muttered.

  She couldn’t help but tense. This was the last news she’d wanted to hear, but it was also exactly what she’d suspected he would say. Especially given the way he’d been acting. They walked away, huddling together.

  “Wait!” Joel called out. “Chloe!”

  She didn’t look back. Her mind was already shifting focus. Sorting through possibilities. Looking for—

  “Another what?” Joel wanted to know. He’d followed after them.

  Chloe stopped.

  Cedric swore. “He is slowing us down. I hope this jack-off isn’t going to be a problem.”

  She spun to face Joel. Surely, he’d taken the time to look at Cedric’s badge and ID? He’d noticed that Cedric was a homicide detective?