Page 25 of Under Her Command

For a moment—just a moment—the world narrowed to the space between them.

Victoria glanced down at Isabel’s mouth, then back up, her expression torn betweenwantandrestraint.

Isabel didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Let her come to you,she told herself.Don’t push. Let her decide.

Victoria leaned in—so close Isabel could feel the warmth of her breath, see the faint flush high on her cheekbones.

Then, just as quickly, she pulled back.

“Good night, Torres,” Victoria said, voice tight. Professional.

The mask was back in place.

Isabel swallowed the sting of disappointment and forced a crooked smile. “Night, Captain.”

Victoria didn’t wait for the Uber to arrive. She just nodded once and strode away, back straight, like nothing had happened.

As if Isabel hadn’t watched her almostbreak.

Fig ambled out of the cafe as Lavender locked up, the little dog flopping down at Isabel’s feet with a contented sigh.

Lavender leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “That looked complicated.”

Isabel huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s one word for it.”

Lavender tilted her head, considering. “She’s worth it, you know. If you’re patient.”

Isabel glanced down the street where Victoria had disappeared.

Patience wasn’t exactly her strong suit. But for this?

She was willing to learn.

5

VICTORIA

The precinct felt different today. Victoria knew it was in her head—nothing had changed, not really. The same burnt coffee smell lingered in the air, the same hum of ringing phones and keyboard clicks filled the bullpen. Officers moved through their tasks with the usual detached efficiency. And yet, beneath it all, she couldfeelsomething shifting. Or maybe she was the one shifting.

She sat at her desk, her pen poised over a case file, but her mind kept slipping. The words blurred. The numbers and names refused to settle into anything useful.

Because she was thinking aboutlast night. Because she was thinking aboutTorres.

Victoria inhaled slowly, then exhaled through her nose.Control. Focus.She forced her attention back to the paperwork in front of her, determined to wrestle her thoughts into order.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

She managed to sign off on a patrol schedule before her phone buzzed against the desk. She checked it, already bracing herself.

Not Torres. Collins.

Victoria pressed the call button. “Langley.”

“We may have something,” Collins said, no preamble. “An informant tipped us off to a potential ransom drop location. Abandoned lot on the west side of town. Looks like our guys might finally be making a move.”

Victoria straightened, all thoughts of last night momentarily shoved aside. “You trust the source?”