Page 14 of The Survivor (Silhoutte Romantic Suspense)

R ick was already seated at the dining room table when Sam and Blake walked in, drumming his fingers against the wood. He glanced up as they entered, then exchanged a look with Blake.

“What’s going on?” Sam said carefully. Wariness climbed up her chest like a vine, coiling into a lump in the back of her throat. “Why do you two look so serious?”

Blake gestured for her to sit, and she did. Sinking into the chair next to her, he raked his fingers through his dark hair. “It’s time for you to go, Sam.”

She’d expected this, and yet the words brought a tug of desperation to her stomach. Seeing that reporter spin her pain and sensationalize her ordeal had been tough, but it only reinforced her conviction that she needed to see this through to the end.

If the Rose Killer suspected that she was alive, he might question the well-being of his latest victim. What if he learned that Elaine hadn’t died the night he’d left her in the warehouse? What if he came after Elaine again?

That thought sent an avalanche of rage surging through Sam’s body. She genuinely cared for the young woman, she wanted to help her, and running away again wouldn’t achieve a solitary thing. Elaine still needed her, whether Blake and the FBI liked it or not, and Sam couldn’t desert her. Not now.

“No,” she found herself responding, her voice thick with emotion.

Blake released a sigh, as if he’d expected her to be difficult.

“You don’t have a choice. While you were in the bathroom, three other networks aired the story of your survival.

The press is already camped out in front of police headquarters and outside the FBI field office here in the city. It’s too risky for you to stay.”

She tightened her lips. “Elaine needs me.”

“Elaine is being moved to a safe house in Indiana. Tonight.” Blake’s normally rough voice softened. “You wouldn’t be able to see her, even if you stayed.”

“Will I be able to speak to her on the phone?”

“No. I mean, it could be arranged but—”

“Then arrange it.”

“Sam—”

“I’m not leaving.” She crossed her arms over her chest, tightly, desperately. “I can’t leave. I won’t leave.” Blake opened his mouth but she silenced him with a glare. “And don’t you dare tell me I don’t have a choice. I do have a choice, Blake. The Bureau can’t force me to go into hiding.”

Neither agent answered, confirming that her words were correct.

“I won’t leave,” she repeated, a sliver of stubbornness slicing her tone.

“You’ll be safer in Florida,” Rick said quietly.

“Florida? That’s where you want to ship me off to?” She snorted. “What, so I can lie on a beach all day and pretend the bastard who tried to kill me isn’t murdering other women? No, thank you. I have as much, if not more, invested in this. I want to be here when that maniac is caught.”

In a flat voice, Blake said, “No.”

Hot flames ignited her body. Why was he being so difficult about this? It wasn’t as if she were saying she wanted to use herself as bait to catch the killer; she just wanted to be in the city when he was captured.

“This isn’t your choice,” she said in a steely tone.

“Like hell it isn’t. I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice if that’s what it takes.”

Disbelief rocketed through her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Rick sighed. “Blake—”

She interrupted angrily. “Do it and I’ll call a press conference telling the country how the FBI is bullying the only witness they’ve got!”

“Sam—” Rick began.

“I need a moment alone with her, Rick,” Blake snapped, the fire in his eyes now a raging inferno.

A short silence descended over the room. Finally, Rick nodded, looking both uncomfortable and annoyed. “Fine. I’ll call Knight and update him on this latest…development.”

After Rick left the room, Blake shifted in his chair so that they were face-to-face.

They eyed each other for a long moment. Her heart unwittingly did a flip-flop. The turbulent expression in his eyes reminded her of the way he’d looked when he’d kissed her last night.

She shook her head, wondering how they’d gotten from point A—passionately kissing last night—to point B—hurling threats at each other today.

She released a regretful breath. “I’m not going to call a press conference,” she finally murmured.

“I’m not going to arrest you,” he murmured back, a wry flicker in his eyes.

“So what are we going to do about this?”

He rubbed his chin and she found herself wishing it was her own hand stroking that well-defined jaw. Heat speared into her skin, catching her off guard. God, this wasn’t the time to be thinking about kissing him again.

“Sam, you can’t stay.”

His gaze rested on her mouth, and suddenly she knew he wasn’t talking about the case, or the danger she faced by sticking around.

Her reaction to his nearness couldn’t have been have been more clear if it were pasted on a billboard on Lakeshore Drive.

Her nipples poked against the thin lace of her bra, that place between her thighs ached, and her cheeks were so warm she knew they must be flushed.

She might have been embarrassed about the obvious arousal he brought out in her, if not for the same sense of awareness radiating from him.

His pulse vibrating in his strong neck, his eyes darkening to smoky whiskey.

He wanted her, the same way she wanted him.

The air between them hummed, and the tension hissing in the room only heightened her response. She hadn’t thought she could feel this way around a man again, but her body, reduced to its most basic, primal state, was practically singing for him to touch her.

* * *

Blake saw the arousal glimmering in Sam’s big gray eyes and his groin hardened. Dammit. Not now. Not this woman.

“Blake…” The soft word broke through the sexual tension sizzling between them. “I need to be here to see this thing through.”

“Don’t you care that you’ll be putting yourself in danger?” Frustration poured out of his voice, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to her determination to place herself in harm’s way, or because of the heat pulsing through his veins.

His mouth tingled with the need to kiss her again.

She folded her hands over her lap. “I’m not stupid, Blake. I won’t go charging through the city, yelling for the bastard to come and get me. I just want to help.”

Alarm trickled through him. “Help how?”

“Looking through mug shots, helping you talk through things as I did today. I can’t hide from him anymore.”

Her delicate chin lifted with fortitude and a strangled groan escaped from his lips. A part of him wanted to throw her over his shoulder and haul her out the door. Another part wanted to carry her into his bedroom and make love to her until neither of them could move.

She leaned forward, providing him with an eyeful of the delicious cleavage swelling from the neckline of her thin, green sweater. “Let me stay here with you, Blake.”

“Here?” he echoed.

His mouth grew so dry it felt like someone had stuffed a dozen cotton balls inside it. She wanted to stay here? With him? And turn his cozy home into the Garden of Eden, forbidden fruit and all?

She must have seen the disinclination in his eyes, because she frowned. “I’m trying to compromise. I refuse to be carted off to Florida but I’m willing to accept protection, Blake. If I stay with you, you’ll keep me safe. You’ll protect me.”

Something hard and agonizing slammed into him.

“Come on, Blake, let me come along.”

“Katie, it’s too dangerous.”

“You’ll protect me.”

The sound of Kate’s voice in his head stole the breath right out of his lungs. You’ll protect me. The same words Sam had just said, the same task he’d failed to carry out the last time a woman had asked for his protection.

He’d probably always blame himself for Kate’s death.

It was a reality he lived with, one he’d accepted, yet he’d learned that the only way to function normally in his life and his job was to keep the memory of Kate buried in the back of his mind.

That’s why he’d thrown himself headfirst into this case.

He’d taken it on in hopes that it would distract him, allow him to keep the pain at bay, something his three months’ leave a year ago hadn’t accomplished.

And here he was, right back in the same position. He’d hoped that hunting another killer would make him forget the loss of the woman he’d loved. Instead, he was now facing losing a woman he was starting to care about.

And dammit, he did care about Sam. He barely knew her, yet he was feeling things for her he’d never thought he would feel again. Admiration. Respect.

Lust.

Oh, yeah, definitely lust. He wanted her so bad he could taste her on his tongue.

God help him.

“You won’t change your mind about this, will you?”

“No,” she said, her tone firm.

With a sigh, he rose from his chair and left the dining room. He found Rick pacing the front hallway and murmuring into his cell phone.

“Let me talk to him,” Blake said, holding out his hand.

Rick tossed him the phone without a word.

“What’s going on there, Corwin?” Knight barked.

“She’s going to stay here with me.” From the corner of his eye he saw Sam appear in the doorway. She watched him, a whisper of a smile lifting her sensual mouth. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep Miss Dawson safe.”

“You’ll be taking full responsibility should anything happen?”

He struggled to maintain a calm voice. “Yes.”

“Fine. She’s under your protection.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to Rick, who shot him a quizzical look. “You sure about this, Blake?”

His gaze slid in Sam’s direction. “I don’t seem to have a choice in the matter.”

* * *

He wasn’t happy with her. Sam could sense it as she watched Blake rub his temples.

He did that a lot, almost like he had one continuous headache that simply couldn’t be remedied.

Was she the source of tonight’s headache?

Oh, yeah. No question about it. He definitely wasn’t pleased that she’d decided to stay in the city.