Page 86 of Vital Signs

I stretched deliberately, arching my back and raising my arms overhead until my shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin above my jeans. I held the stretch longer than necessary, aware of Hunter's eyes tracking me. The weight of his gaze sent a pleasant warmth across my skin. Being watched was its own kind of drug.

"Find anything interesting?" I asked, voice innocent while my posture was anything but.

Hunter grunted, eyes back on the file. "Nothing new. Still looking for patterns in these codes."

He sat on the floor surrounded by files.

I crossed the room and dropped to my knees beside him, closer than necessary. "Let me see."

The position put me at his level, my shoulder brushing his. I could smell his soap—cheap, generic, nothing like the expensive cologne I used to wear in Paris. But it was uniquely Hunter. Real. Present.

I leaned over to point at a notation, my hand settling on his thigh. Not aggressive. Tentative, even.Can I touch you? Will you let me after what I did?

He went still, then pressed my hand harder against his leg, his thumb stroking over my knuckles. "You're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"Yeah." He didn't let go of my hand. Held it against his thigh like an anchor. "But we still have work to do."

I pulled back slightly, but he didn't release my hand.

"Later," he said, the promise clear. "After we nail this bastard. I want you properly. Without files and dead bodies between us."

"Later," I agreed.

But the word carried weight now. Later meant a future. Meant both of us would be there, alive and free, to fulfill that promise. Wright couldn't take this from us.

We turned back to the files, hands still touching. Work first. Us after.

But the connection remained, a live wire between our palms.

I traced the billing codes that marked Tyler for death.

"You've been staring at that same page for twenty minutes."

Hunter's voice pulled me back. I looked up to find him watching me, irritation mingled with something softer in his expression.

"I keep thinking about Tyler," I admitted, letting the teasing slip away for a moment. "How he must have trusted Wright. How that trust killed him."

Hunter nodded, eyes darkening. "Trust is a weapon in the wrong hands."

The moment hung between us, weighted with everything we weren't saying. I'd violated his trust to save him. He'd chosen to forgive me anyway. We were rebuilding it one touch at a time.

I leaned over the table, studying the documents from a new angle.

"These codes appear regularly," I noted, circling a pattern with my finger. "Always before dosage increases."

Hunter moved behind me, his chest brushing my back as he reached around to see what I'd found. He didn't retreat this time, his body bracketing mine as we both stared at the paper.

"You're right." His voice rumbled close to my ear. "And look at how they increase after adverse reactions."

I arched my back, pressing against him more fully. "Your powers of observation are impressive today."

His hand settled on my hip, not pushing me away but holding me in place. Then, his own hand covered mine on the table, pressing my palm harder against the page.

"I can appreciate the view while still focusing on the case," he said, voice rough. "Multitasking. I learned from the best."

I turned my head just enough so that our lips nearly touched. "You smell good."