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H ayes woke early, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings and the warmth pressed close to his. Awareness returned a moment later, and he carefully moved away from Reese. He couldn’t bring himself to regret holding her all night, but his presence there in the morning would be awkward.

Not to mention that being near her was punching holes in his ever-disintegrating impartiality.

He went to his bedroom and grabbed some clothes, then headed to the guest bathroom for a shower. Setting the spray to a couple of degrees below scalding, he stepped inside and let the water pound away the remnants of sleep while mentally mapping out the day.

After a few minutes, he shut off the water and reached for the towel he’d hung just outside it. He swiped it over his hair and stepped out, carelessly wiping off when an alert sounded. Hayes froze. The sensor.

He lunged for the door, one hand pinning the towel around his hips. When he ran into the apartment, his gaze went immediately to the front entrance. The sensor wasn’t blinking. He turned toward the patio door, which stood slightly ajar. He took a few quick steps toward it but then halted.

Reese was on the balcony dragging aside the small table and chairs. Then she moved fully into his line of sight, clad in leggings and a sports bra. She went through a series of stretches, before settling into a centering position. He recalled something she’d said a few days ago:

I tried self-defense classes, but they were too triggering. It was only when I discovered Tai Chi that I could find that inner peace. Combining meditation with martial arts served a dual purpose.

There was a degree of stiffness in her movements, telling him better than words that she was feeling the physical effects of yesterday’s assault. But her flowing arm pushes and leg positions were still graceful.

Belatedly aware of how much he’d dripped onto the floor, he retreated silently to his room.

It was grimly ironic that working through the trauma she’d experienced at Thorne’s hands could help her deal with her assault and kidnapping yesterday.

But Hayes wasn’t surprised. She’d already proved that she didn’t lack grit.

He dressed and then went to the kitchen for coffee. He never felt quite human before that first jolt of caffeine entered his veins. Carrying his mug to his laptop, he sat down and scrolled quickly through the news before checking his email.

His pulse quickened when he noted the reply from ViCAP, and Hayes mentally steeled himself for disappointment. Although the reasoning behind the database was superb, there was a massive backlog of cases.

Clicking on the email, he found a map highlighted with a cluster of yellow dots.

Fifteen in the ten-year time range he’d submitted.

Eight of those occurred in the last three years.

He examined the addresses and, aided with a city map of streets he brought up on his computer, discovered that six of the eight most recent victims reported being kidnapped within twenty miles of the site McNulty had driven Reese to.

Adrenaline thrummed in his chest. A few minutes of digging proved the abandoned building had closed while the con was locked up, and only two rapes with similar MOs had occurred during those four years. In the three years prior to his imprisonment, however, there were seven similar rapes.

He brought up his prior research to look at the man’s addresses since age eighteen, trying to figure out McNulty’s proximity to the location victims had reported being taken from.

It took some time. All of the man’s prior residences were apartment buildings without private parking.

Not conducive to the isolation necessary to conduct his criminal activity.

Hayes was still intent on the task when the sensor sounded again. Reese stepped through the sliding glass door, closing and locking it behind her. Seeing him, she halted. He watched her flicker of surprise turn to discomfort.

“Good morning.” She veered into the kitchen, taking longer than necessary to pour herself a mug of coffee and then turning to survey him across the island that divided the room from the dining area. “What has you so engrossed?”

“We got a hit from ViCAP. I’m drilling down further into McNulty’s addresses prior to living with his stepmother.

” She came to stand next to him, staring at the laptop as he returned the screen to the map showing the rapes.

“Search parameters going back ten years, up to twenty miles from the address of the abandoned building he took you to, and rapes involving transporting the victim both ways. The structure has only been vacant for three years, meaning it’d have been accessible since he got home from prison, but not before.

I need to run a new search for the ones occurring before he was sentenced and work backward, trying to match his address at the time of each to see how near he lived to the site of the kidnap location. ”

“How many occurred while he was inside?”

“Two. The rest were before and since. But none of his former addresses were for residences with a private garage. And he’d have had a helluva time getting a victim in and out of an apartment without being seen.”

“Outdoor temperatures here are pretty steady year-round,” Reese observed. He turned to look at her, but she studiously avoided meeting his eyes. “Nighttime temps in the winter might be too chilly, but otherwise the weather wouldn’t preclude him using a secluded outdoor spot.”

She sipped in silence for a few minutes before asking suddenly, “How close is Lorna Eckworth’s address to that radius?”

“Good question. It’s eighteen miles. And she’s owned the property for…

” This search took a bit longer. “Thirteen years. Before that, the deed was titled to Francis and Lorna McNulty. He’s still alive, so divorced.

She must have gotten it from the proceeds.

Or bought out his share.” He saw where Reese was going with her inquiry.

“You think he may have used her house for criminal activity?”

She lifted one bare shoulder. “Maybe. If his father had visitation, McNulty would be very familiar with that neighborhood. Enough so that he could have found other nearby unoccupied buildings or houses that he thought were safe. If Jennings does manage to get a warrant for that site he took me to…”

“I talked to him last night.” Hayes drained his coffee.

She stepped back, and he made a return trip to the kitchen for another.

“They found a tin buried close to the structure’s foundation.

McNulty’s prints were on it. He’s going to try to get a warrant today.

” He returned to the table to set his coffee down next to the laptop, careful to keep a slight distance between them.

“And by the way, the attorney Adam hired will meet you at the station prior to your interview with Usher. But she’ll call your cell at nine Monday to speak with you first.”

She nodded, her index finger tapping rhythmically on the mug she held. Her show of nerves was unusual. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you last night.”

He shook his head. “Reese. You know better than that.”

Her gaze skirted his. “I had nightmares for months after…Thorne. It infuriated me. Made me feel weak, like I was still under his control. But I beat them, eventually. To have it happen again last night was gutting. Like I’d regressed.”

Something softened inside him. She could irritate him at one turn and completely disarm him the next.

The pendulum added to the tangle of feelings knotted in his chest. “Yesterday’s events were traumatic, retriggering some of the old responses.

You have no more power over what happens in your sleep than you do over the fresh bruises or muscle stiffness. ”

Her gaze flew to his. Held. “I hope you’re right. And…thank you.” The words sounded as if they were difficult for her to say. “I’m not used to being taken care of, I guess.” She looked away then as if embarrassed. “You’ll have to add hazard pay to your bill.”

“I’m glad I was here.” It was all he could manage. Distantly, he could feel the restraint he’d exercised earlier fray. He needed space and time to reconstruct it. She gave him neither.

Reese didn’t seem to move, but all of a sudden she was nearer.

Hayes went still, willing her to return to the patio.

To her bedroom. Anywhere but here. She rose up on tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

His muscles tensed. He could withstand this.

He would. A simple expression of gratitude from a vulnerable woman called to every protective instinct he possessed.

He had the thought and wanted to believe it.

But reason wasn’t ruling the moment. It wasn’t protectiveness Hayes felt.

His body quaked with the need to touch her, to shove his hand into her hair and haul her closer.

But a thread of logic remained. He had a duty here.

And whether she’d admit it or not, yesterday had retraumatized her. He wouldn’t add to that.

His lack of response didn’t discourage her. Reese’s mouth firmed against his, and she drew closer, angling the kiss, sinking into it more fully. There was no hesitation. No tentativeness. And when she scored his bottom lip with her teeth, his last thread of control abruptly snapped.

One of his arms snaked around her waist while his other hand took the mug from her and set it on the table even as he returned the pressure of her lips.

Took the kiss deeper. Hotter. A dim whisper of sanity reminded him that the last thing she needed right now was further upheaval in her life.

But she didn’t shrink from the contact. Just the opposite.

Her lips parted under his, an invitation he accepted.

His tongue swept into her mouth exploringly, tasting hers, relearning her flavor.

He’d never been a saint but somehow this felt new.

Unfamiliar and exquisitely tempting. Hayes drew in her scent greedily, struggling beneath twin layers of desperation and temptation.

Because she was alluring in every mood. Willful.

Insightful. Unguarded. Gut-wrenchingly sweet.

And now, right this second, seductive as hell.

With effort, Hayes tore his mouth from hers.

Was immediately distracted by the curve of her neck and the pulse that beat rapidly at the base of her throat.

His lips explored both, and one hand dropped to caress her butt.

Last night had been about comfort. But there was nothing comfortable about his rocketing senses or the tight bar of heat that had settled low in his gut.

She dragged her lips over the jaw he hadn’t yet shaved as she tugged his shirt from his waistband. Skated a palm up his torso, leaving tiny pricks of warmth in its wake. He scrambled for his lone shred of restraint. “This is a mistake,” he managed, his voice raspy.

Her mouth moved to his earlobe. Worried it with her teeth. “Funny. It doesn’t feel like one.”

The unmistakable invitation in her words arrowed through him, leaving a shower of sparks in its wake.

Threatened to shred all the half-formed reasons he was scrambling for.

“You have that appointment at eleven. You need to get ready.” The last word was strangled.

Both her hands were beneath his shirt now, kneading his pecs.

Lingering on his shoulders. He was straddling a chasm between heaven and hell, and she was pushing him closer and closer to the brink.

There was a note of humor in her voice when her lips returned to his to whisper against them, “I’ve always been good with time management.”

Because there was no way to summon control while he touched her, he dropped his hands. Fisted them. “I don’t want an hour, Reese. When this happens—and it will—it’ll take all night. Maybe longer.”

Her eyes went slumbrous. “That sounds like a promise.”

It was all he could do not to reach for her again. He took a step back but didn’t release her gaze. “Oh, it is.” The words did nothing to douse the hunger Hayes was trying unsuccessfully to harness. “One I plan to keep.”