“And tonight, you won’t be sleeping alone. Not tonight, not ever again. I married you, I own you.”

She shook her head. Did the blade prick her skin?

“And I’m going to fuck you. I gave you some time, why didn’t you appreciate that shit? I figured you’d come back to me, begging to get in my bed.”

He was crazy.

“You were supposed to offer yourself to me.”

In his dreams.

“But you didn’t, so I’m just going to take whatever I damn well want now.”

She shoved at him, as hard as she could. Startled, Jeremy stumbled back.

“Leaving…you…” Why were her words slurred?

He’d dropped the knife. She picked it up and almost fell over when she did. No, she did fall. Julianna realized she was on her hands and knees, trying to crawl. Everything felt funny and the room was tilting.

But she still had the knife. It was her protection.

“You bitch.” His hands closed around her hips. Jeremy heaved her around to face him. “You don’t fight me, I’ll kill—”

She shoved the knife at him. It sank into his chest. There was a wet, sloshing sound. A terrible, terrible sound. His eyes widened. Shock was there because he hadn’t expected her attack. But he wasn’t going to hurt her again. She’d kill him first.

Julianna pulled the knife out of him. Jeremy’s hand rose, covering the wound that poured blood. She tried to scramble back, but couldn’t. Her lashes were sagging, too heavy now.

Why did she feel that way?

Her tired gaze slid to the wine glass on the floor. She remembered his words. Had he said he’d given her something? Had he drugged her?

“Sweetness…” Jeremy grabbed for her again.

And she stabbed at him with the knife.

***

“Julianna!”

Her eyes flew open. She couldn’t see anything at first. It was too dark, just like before…when she’d had red wine and a knife. Julianna swung out with her fist, punching and hitting as she fought for her freedom.

A man was swearing and reaching out for her.

She hit him harder and knew that she was fighting for her life. She knew—

Light flashed on. Light from a lamp on the bedside table.

Julianna blinked against that light, then she scrambled from the bed. Totally naked, she ran toward the bathroom, but then she froze.

I’m not at home. Jeremy isn’t with me.

She risked a glance over her shoulder. Devlin was in the bed. He hadn’t moved to follow her. His hand was still out, near the lamp. As she watched him, his hand rose and rubbed under his left eye. A red spot was already forming there.

I hit him?

“I’m guessing that was one hell of a nightmare,” Devlin murmured.

Goosebumps covered her body. No big surprise considering the fact that she was standing there, stark naked, in the middle of the bedroom.

Devlin slid to the edge of the bed and stood. Julianna instantly tensed.

“Easy.” He lifted his hands in front of him. “I’m not going to make the mistake of touching you again. Just take it easy, okay? When you want me to touch you, say it. And if you want me to keep standing the hell back, I can do that, too.”

She didn’t know what she wanted right then. She’d had nightmares before, plenty of terrible dreams since Jeremy’s murder. But those dreams usually faded when she woke and Julianna had just been left with a dark, gnawing fear inside of her.

This time, things were different. This time, she hadn’t forgotten. This time…

I think I’m the killer.

What had brought the memories back? Heather’s attack? All of the fear she’d felt recently? One of the dozen shrinks she’d spoken to after being arrested had told her that her memories of that night could come back, provided she had a strong enough trigger.

The cops had wanted to lock Julianna up from the beginning. The Press had said she was guilty. But she’d been so sure that someone else must have come into the house and murdered Jeremy.

Sure, the evidence had shown her prints on the knife. Jeremy’s blood had been on her clothes but…

But I thought there had to be another explanation.

She’d thought wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Julianna told Devlin. Her lips felt numb. No, her whole body did.

He frowned at her. “For what?”

“H-hitting you.” She’d been fighting blindly. She’d never meant to hurt him, but she had.

“Forget it.” He didn’t come any closer, but his eyes were blazing with emotion. “You were having a nightmare.”

Julianna shook her head, then she stopped, realizing just what she’d nearly confessed.

“You weren’t having a nightmare?” Devlin asked, cocking his head to the side.

No, the past wasn’t a nightmare. It was reality.

She grabbed for her clothes. She could feel the weight of Devlin’s gaze as he stood there watching her. Watching, but not touching. Keeping his word.

In seconds, she was dressed. She wondered if he saw the tremble of her fingers. Julianna knew she had to tell him something. She couldn’t just run off in the middle of the night.

She also couldn’t just stay there.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Julianna…”

“I have to go.” She had to figure out what to do. Spending the rest of her life in a jail cell wasn’t an option she wanted, but lying and hiding the truth? Could she do that forever? She turned for the door.

“Don’t.” The one word was bit out.

Her shoulders stiffened. In that moment, Julianna couldn’t look back at him. “You don’t really know me, Devlin. You know what you see, but that’s just surface. You should stay away from me.” He didn’t need to get pulled down into the mess that was coming. If she went to the cops, when she went to them, the media would be all over her.

If Devlin was with her, they’d tear into his life, too.

He didn’t need that hell.

“Where are you going?” Devlin asked her. She heard the hiss of a zipper behind her. He must have put on his jeans.

“Home.” The home she hated. But it would have to do, for the time being.

“And how are you getting there? Dammit, let me help you! You hired me to—”

“I don’t need a bodyguard any longer. My stalker is in jail.” She had to get away from Devlin. If she told him the truth, no, she didn’t want to see the way he’d look at her. He’d worked hard to get away from the crimes in his past. “I’ll call a taxi, and I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

No, she was shaking apart on the inside. “Good-bye, Devlin.” Because it had to be good-bye. She wasn’t any good for him.

She was a killer.

Julianna walked out of that bedroom and left him behind.

***

What. The. Fuck?

Julianna had left him. No, not just left, but straight up run from him. In the middle of the damn night. She hadn’t even looked at him. When the cab had arrived, she’d rushed outside and that had been it. No more good-byes, no more nothing.

Devlin stood outside, watching the tail-lights of that taxi as it disappeared. He was still in his jeans and the t-shirt he’d grabbed and snow fell down on him. His toes were quickly growing numb out there, but he didn’t care.

Something was wrong with Julianna. Very, very wrong.

She’d been on fire in his arms just two hours before. She’d been warm and trusting in the aftermath, holding him close, letting down all of her defenses.

He’d slept with her in his arms, and he’d felt more at peace right then…hell, he’d had more peace in those moments than he’d had in too long to remember.

Her voice had woken him. A fitful whisper. “Leaving you…” He’d understood those words. Then she’d muttered something else. Something about her bags. Had she said they’d been packed?

The tail-lights we

re gone now. He turned and headed back into his house. His first stop was his computer, and he pulled up every single file he had on Julianna…and on Jeremy Smith’s murder.

Yes, the cops had found her with the deceased bastard. Julianna had been unconscious when the police arrived. She’d had her husband’s blood on her. The murder weapon had been near her right hand.

He typed in a few passwords that he shouldn’t know, and a few seconds later, he was staring at crime scene photographs.

Devlin pressed closer to the screen as he studied the photos. There was a wine glass on the floor. Very close to the dead body. Only the top of that wine glass had been smashed. The carpeting was damn lush in that room, he’d seen it for himself. It would take more than just a stray tumble for that glass to shatter that way.

He zoomed in on the picture. Jeremy Smith had been stabbed thirteen times. That much violence sure took one hell of a lot of rage.

“Leaving…you…” Julianna’s voice whispered through his mind once more.

According to her own signed statements, Julianna didn’t remember anything that happened that night, not after she’d been given a glass of wine by her husband.

The wine was gone. Not spilled on the carpet with that smashed glass. Gone.

Did he drug her?

But…

Devlin couldn’t help but wonder, had Julianna remembered more? Remember something else that had scared her? Because he knew she’d been afraid. She’d fought him so desperately in that bed, damn near breaking the heart he hadn’t realized he’d had.

“Don’t hurt me…” A plea she’d made even before her eyes opened.

Jeremy had hurt her, though. Again and again.

Devlin pulled out his phone. He hesitated, then called the one person he thought could help. His call was answered on the second ring. Devlin didn’t identify himself. He just said, “Julianna needs you.”

***

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