Die For Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (For Me 1)

Safe. That word again. She hadn’t felt safe in a long time. “So you were just waiting at my house? You didn’t see the killer come?”

His jaw hardened. “I wasn’t at your house all night. I…followed you.”

Her heartbeat kicked up. “Me and Trent?”

“Um, yeah. I followed you and the boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Does he know that?” A hard edge had entered his voice. “Didn’t seem that way when he put his hands on you.”

He’d seen that, too? He’d been watching. “We ended things tonight. Before I…”

“Before you found the little gift?”

A jerky nod. “Trent and I aren’t what he wants us to be,” Katherine said. Then, because she found that she could be truthful with Dane, while she felt she had to keep on her mask with so many other people, she added, “I’m not what he wants me to be.”

“What does he want you to be?”

She glanced at the door. Normal. Hardly the type of thing she wanted to confess. “I think we should say good night.”

The floor creaked beneath his shifting feet. “If that’s what you want…”

No, what she wanted was to be normal. To be just like everyone else. Not going to happen.

She was barely holding onto her control, and she just needed to be alone for a while. Katherine didn’t like for anyone to see her break.

He headed toward the door, then hesitated. “Will you have nightmares?”

Didn’t she always? “I’ll stay quiet.”

Dane looked over his shoulder. “That’s not really an answer, is it?”

“I don’t have nightmares.” She told the lie in a quiet voice. Then, because she had to say it, Katherine told him, “I know what you want.”

His gaze dipped over her. A careful mask concealed his expression. “Do you?”

“You want to use me.”

His gaze returned to her face. A banked heat lit the blue of his eyes, but he didn’t speak.

She swallowed. “To catch Valentine. You’re going to use me.”

“Careful,” he said, approaching her once more. His hand rose and curved under her chin. Her heart slammed into her ribs. This was the wrong time, the wrong place, but she was suddenly, intensely aware of the detective.

Aware of a man in a way that she hadn’t been in a very long time.

Dane’s eyes narrowed. “Your Boston just slipped out. You’d done so well at ditching it.”

Her breath rushed out on a soft sigh. His touch was making her nervous when she already felt as if she were barely holding things together. She stepped away from him.

One brow rose as he noted her retreat.

“Good night, Dane.”

After one last, unreadable stare, Dane backed quietly out of the room. The door shut behind him with a soft click. Katherine thought about locking the door. But she knew that locks weren’t much good in this world. Real monsters knew how to get past most locks.

The monsters that always came for her sure did.

She stripped, put on Dane’s shirt, then climbed into the bed. King-sized, it smelled of him. A slightly woody, masculine scent. The sheets were soft against her, faintly cool.

She closed her eyes.

And saw the dead coming for her.

Dane opened the bedroom door. The hinges squeaked quietly, but the woman lying in the bed didn’t stir. Faint rays of light spilled through the blinds, onto his bed. Onto her.

Long, slender legs. Legs that seemed to stretch for miles.

Her head was turned toward the door, her thick lashes closed.

He’d stayed awake for a while last night, alert to every rustle from his room. It would only have been normal for her to have nightmares after the little gift she’d received, but Katherine had kept her word. She hadn’t made a sound.

But had she stayed quiet because no nightmares came to her? Or because she knew better than to cry out?

He took a step toward her. The groan of the floor wasn’t so quiet beneath his foot, and her eyelids flew open. He saw the fear in her gaze, confusion, but then her golden eyes swept around the room. Her breath panted out for a moment, and then she whispered, “It happened.”

If by “it” she meant that her ex had come to town and started killing, then yes, that had happened.

She was wearing his shirt. The faded fabric had never looked so good.

Dane cleared his throat. “Sorry to wake you, but I, um, made some breakfast so I wanted you to eat while it was warm.” As a rule, he never made breakfast for anyone. That would be why the eggs were so runny, but he’d tried.

She blinked. “You cooked for me?”

He’d never blushed in his life. A good thing, or his cheeks would have stained right then. “It’s nothing fancy. Just eggs and orange juice. I figured you could use something to help you get going today.”

She still had confusion in her eyes, but the fear had faded away. “Thank you.” Katherine rose from the bed. He cast one more look at her legs—gorgeous—then forced himself to turn away from her.

She followed behind him with soft steps. He’d even managed to set the table for her. Her eyes widened when she saw the plates and napkins. Why the huge shock? Hell, he wasn’t that bad of a host.

Okay, he usually was.

But this was different.

He pulled out a chair for her. She eased down into it with a murmur of appreciation. And the lady was even champ enough to eat his runny eggs without complaint.

He sat across from her and wondered where in the hell he should start. He’d handled things the wrong way with her at the beginning. When she’d first come into the station, he’d been too harsh. He was lucky she hadn’t hauled ass out of town.

And when the marshal found out about last night’s little visit, the guy would be pushing once more for her to leave.

I have to keep her in New Orleans.

Because she was the key to the case. The killer had found her in New Orleans. He’d left the package for her, drawing her into his sick little game.

“You aren’t eating,” Katherine said quietly.

He blinked. Realized that, yeah, he’d just been staring at her. Dane quickly shoveled some eggs into his mouth. They tasted like shit.

How was she eating them?

Then he realized…she just doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. Huh. Who’d ever cared about that before? He put his fork down. “You can stop,” he said.

Too late. She’d already emptied her plate.