Page 19 of Ice Cold Liar (Ice Breaker Cold Case #14)

But she kept speaking, rolling right along feverishly because she almost could not stop right then.

“He wanted me to beg, and I was sure that I was going to die. But even as the seizure had my whole body shuddering, I knew that I had to fight back. So maybe…” She licked her lips.

“Maybe I grabbed the knife he’d dropped.

Is that what you want me to say? Maybe I was able to reach it.

” Her heart pounded. “What would you do if I told you all of this really happened? And that maybe I had to take the knife and stab him? If I confessed to stabbing Hudson, what would you do? Would you immediately rush to Detective Anderson and the DA? Would you personally shove me in a cell?”

He stalked toward her. His eyes glittered at her. “Is that what happened?” His hands tightened into hard fists. “Tell me. Tell me the truth.”

“What would you do?” Because if he turned on her…

The cops will be back at my door. The detective with the angry eyes who hates me. The DA who wanted to lock me away. She could lose her freedom and her life. All by putting her trust in the wrong person.

Been there, done that before. So maybe she needed to slow down. To put some needed distance between them before she made another mistake. “I have to shower,” Naomi said before he could answer her question. “I need to get dressed. I need to find out who torched my house.”

He stopped advancing.

“We spend the night together, and you think I’m going to wake up and make some big, dramatic confession?

” Naomi let her eyes widen. Shit. I just did that very thing.

Mostly. “I swear, that detective grilled me once for nearly twenty-four hours straight. I didn’t break then or during any of our other marathon interrogation sessions.

I kept to my story. I’ll repeat it for you now.

” Don’t you dare slip up just because you’re thinking this man is some kind of hero, Naomi!

Just because you woke up and felt safe and protected and you thought about having mind-blowing sex with him.

Get it together, woman. “I had a fight with my husband. I left in the middle of the night because I needed air. I went for a long walk with my dog. I got lost outside. The property stretches and stretches and I’m not familiar with everything.

Especially in the dark, things get confusing.

I got confused. When I finally got back, when I came in the guesthouse…

” She looked over at the bed. “I called out for Hudson. He didn’t respond. I found him dead on the bed.”

“Here’s another scenario.” Eb remained rooted to the spot. “And it includes the real story that I think you just gave me minutes ago. Only that story doesn’t include all of those ‘ maybe’ uses that you were throwing around.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and lifted her chin.

“Hudson was bigger than you. Stronger than you. He had training provided by the government that would mean he knew how to inflict maximum pain. He could cause you so much pain that you would be begging him to stop, and while he was doing that, he would not even leave a mark on you.”

A shiver slid over her. “Guessing you had that same training?” But Hudson had left marks on her. Her stomach had bruised from the punches.

“I had more.”

She backed up. Not what she needed to hear.

“Don’t.” Low. Rasping. “I will not hurt you, Naomi. You never need to physically fear me.”

“I’m going to shower. I’m not running from you.” Her chin kicked up even more. “Just trying to get clean.” She whirled away.

“Some sins can’t be washed away.”

His words had her stilling.

“Hudson was bigger than you. Stronger than you. You fought. You were seizing and he wasn’t helping, and you were afraid…

so you grabbed a knife, and you stabbed him.

Maybe your hand jerked. See what I did? I just used the word ‘ maybe ’ for you.

Here, let’s do it again. Maybe you didn’t intend to kill him, but you can’t control yourself when the seizures hit, can you? ”

I did exactly what I intended to do. Her control was back.

The temporary weakness or insanity or whatever it had been—that was averted, for the moment.

She looked back at Eb. “I am glad he’s dead.

Take that statement however you want to take it.

” With those words, she marched into the small bathroom.

No dramatic door slamming. Instead, Naomi just closed the door softly behind her.

Her gaze slid to the mirror. To her reflection.

She stared into her own eyes. Didn’t flinch. “I’m glad,” she whispered again.

The shower had turned on. He could hear the water thundering out.

Eb wanted to be in that shower with her. Not going to happen, of course. So what if he’d woken up, aching for her?

Twenty-four hours. He hadn’t even been back in her life that long.

She didn’t trust him.

She didn’t want him to fuck her.

And she doesn’t know that I came to this town intending to fuck her over.

If he had his way, she’d never know that particular truth.

“Your turn.”

Eb’s shoulders stiffened, and he glanced back. Steam drifted from the open bathroom doorway. Naomi stood there, her body wrapped in a towel. Her wet hair slid around her shoulders. Her cheeks had color, and some of the shadows were gone from beneath her eyes.

Beautiful.

“Figured you’d want to shower, too. And, uh, there is some extra toothpaste by the sink.

You can borrow the toothbrush there, too.

I opened it. It was a fresh one I’d stocked.

I used it, and um…Well, just do whatever you want.

” She hurried forward and waved behind her toward the open bathroom. “It’s all yours.”

All yours.

His gaze was on her legs. Those long, sexy legs that he could too easily imagine wrapped around him.

Or thrown over his shoulders as he drove as deep into her as he could go.

Eb swallowed. Very, very slowly, his gaze rose.

Drifted over her. Lingered where the towel had been knotted between her breasts.

I will devour her.

“Eb?”

He didn’t say a word. He couldn’t. He stalked into the bathroom. Shut the door just as softly as she had done before. Moving by rote, he grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste. Used it. Grabbed for the faucet in the narrow shower stall. Not warm water. Ice cold because that was what he would need.

Ice. Cold.

His dick shoved hard against the front of his jeans.

The way he’d just looked at her…

Naomi’s breath shuddered in and out. She’d forgotten to take fresh clothes into the bathroom with her.

She’d been in such a hurry to escape that she’d just gone straight in there with only the clothes on her back.

Sure, she could have just put her previous clothes on again.

She hadn’t. She’d gone with the towel. Maybe she’d wanted to see his reaction.

Eb had looked at her as if he wanted to eat her alive.

As she’d seen that heated look, her nipples had tightened against the soft cloth of the towel. Her sex had quivered. Yep, an actual quiver. And she’d yearned.

But he’d walked right past her. Hadn’t said a word. Had gone straight into the bathroom.

When she inched toward the now closed door, she could hear the thunder of the water. Her tongue snaked over her lower lip. Should she ask if he needed anything? Like…

Me?

Do you want me, Eb? Want to have fast, hot sex that sends us both hurtling straight into an unforgettable orgasm? Sex that doesn’t mean anything but feels so very good? Sex that lets us forget—for a few precious moments—how incredibly screwed up everything else is? So very tempting.

But, no, she could not do that.

Twenty-four hours…

He’d only been in Baton Rouge with her for less than twenty-four hours.

During that brief time, he’d helped her get her dog back. Saved her from a fire. Held her when she’d been helpless.

Less than twenty-four hours.

Could a whole life change in that time?

She reached for the top of the towel, for the part she’d tucked between her breasts.

The bathroom door opened.

Eb stood there. Filled the doorway with his broad shoulders. Shirt gone. Chest bare. Muscles so tense and hard. And, jeez, how many abs did he have? Like she didn’t look at the man and immediately want to lick him.

All over.

Stop it.

“Do you, ah, want something?” Naomi asked carefully. Maybe he’d forgotten his clothes, too? Naomi realized that she didn’t hear the thunder of the shower. He’d turned off the water.

His eyes were on her. The gold in his topaz eyes burned.

“You want fresh clothes?” Her voice had gone extra husky.

A negative shake of his head.

“Towels? I, um, think towels are in the bathroom. Some soap is in there, too. Nothing fancy, but?—”

“No.” Almost guttural.

Okay, this was awkward. Mostly because her gaze kept dropping to his chest. Then back up. Then down again. “What do you want?”

“You.”

Her knees almost buckled.