“St-stop.”
He pulled in a deep breath.
“With me . . . without me . . .” Her voice seemed to grow stronger with each word she spoke. “You’ll always be a . . . good man.” He needed to see that. He was nothing like Kevin Cormack. And Kevin was an asshole to blame his madness on the death of his girl. Emma suspected the guy had been battling the evil inside for a very long time. “I just . . .” Now she smiled for him, a smile that she hoped flashed her dimples. “I make you . . . better.”
Surprise had his eyes widening, then he laughed, and it was such a beautiful, amazing sound. A sound that she wanted to hear every day of her life.
Carefully, he eased into the bed with her. His arms wrapped around her, and he held her in the gentlest of embraces. As if she was the most important thing he’d ever touched. “Yes,” Dean whispered, “you do. So much better.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she knew those tears weren’t from pain. Because she was too happy right then to feel pain. Dean was with her. They were safe, and—
“Victoria?” Emma asked. Please let her be alive. Let her be safe.
“She’s stitched up and in the room next door. Wade is currently watching her like a very intent hawk.”
Her breath came out on a relieved sigh.
“Agent Elroy didn’t make it,” Dean said, voice thickening a bit. “And the two cops with you . . .”
Sorrow filled her. “They were dead within moments.”
He nodded.
Her lips pressed together. So much needless death. The happiness she’d felt a moment ago just seemed wrong when there was so much pain and sorrow. “What about Agent Cormack?”
“The NOPD has him in solitary confinement, on a suicide watch. They’re going to try to get him to reveal any other victims he might have killed. The dancer that Jax told us about? The police never found Sandy Jamison’s body in the swamp, and we think there are more victims out there.”
Many more. She thought the same thing. Sandy Jamison.
“Sarah’s down there now, with Gabe, giving assistance during the interrogation.”
So it was over. At least, the killing was. She hoped that Sarah could work her magic and find the rest of the victims.
“What happens next?” Emma asked. No more death. She didn’t want to think of death and pain. She wanted life. She needed hope.
“Next . . . next I start convincing you that if you spend your life with me, I can make you happy. I can give you anything and everything that you could want.”
Her gaze rose to meet his once more.
“Because you are everything that I want, Emma. Every dream I’ve ever had, dreams I didn’t even know about. I look at you, and I want a future. I want a life with you. I can give you time. I can court you, I can do charm, I can do anything for you.”
Emma studied him. She saw the slight tremble of his fingers and the shadow of fear in his eyes. The bruises on his knuckles showed his recent battle. The blood on his clothes showed the hell that he’d survived.
Dean wasn’t an easy man to love. He was a man well acquainted with danger. A man who’d risk everything to protect those he loved. To protect the innocent.
“I don’t need charm, Dean. I just . . . need you.” That was all it was for her. She looked at him, and Emma saw her future. A man who loved her. A man who understood her—even the dark parts of herself that she tried to hide from the rest of the world. Inside and out, he knew her.
She didn’t have to pretend with him. Didn’t have to lie. With Dean, everything was just right.
But she nodded, as if considering something important, and he watched her with a worried gaze. “Emma?”
“I do think, though, that you’ll have to marry me.”
“You want to marry me?”
“I want forever with you, Dean.” Just so they were clear.
He held her tighter. “Yes. Marry me . . . now. Or, as soon as you’re out of the hospital, or just—be with me.”
Later, she’d tell him that, technically, she’d been the one to ask, and he’d said yes. But that part would come later.
So for now, Emma just smiled and tilted her head back. When he kissed her, Emma knew that everything was going to be all right. No matter what happened in the future, Dean would be with her.
And she’d be with him.
They weren’t just lovers. They were partners . . . as she’d been trying to tell him from nearly the beginning.
Partners . . . forever.
EPILOGUE
GOING IN FOR THE INTERROGATION, HUH?”
Sarah stopped on the stone steps that led up to the station where Kevin Cormack was being held. That dark voice . . . she glanced over and saw Jax Fontaine standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his back pressed to the side of the building.
She hesitated.
He lifted his hand and crooked his finger toward her. “I’ve got a secret . . .”
She slowly made her way to him. Gabe was waiting inside the building for her. She needed to get in there and find out just what Cormack had to say about his victims.
Jax’s gaze raked her. “I was worried you might get caught in the cross fire.” His lips thinned. “And since I was cuffed in jail, I couldn’t exactly come and help you.”
“I’m fine.” She glanced toward the doors.
“Everything in there can wait, trust me.”
She shook her head.
“Ah, no trust, not yet? Maybe one day.”
Sarah squared her shoulders. “I need to get inside. I’m supposed to help with the interrogation.”
“Because you’re good at understanding killers.”
“Something like that.”
He laughed. A deep, strangely sexy sound. “Oh, princess, sometimes, killers just need to be put down. They don’t need to be understood.” Then he nodded toward her. “Do me a favor? Please tell Em that I still protect my friends. Always will.” Then he was walking away. But he’d only taken two steps before he glanced back at her. “When you need me, come find me.”
She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone.
But she watched him walk away. The guy just strolled down the New Orleans street as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Sarah!”
She turned at the frantic call. Gabe had just burst out of the station and was running down the stairs toward her.
“I’m sorry that I’m late,” she rushed to say. “I just—”
“Kevin Cormack is dead.”
A chill skated down her spine.
“He tried to attack a guard on the way to the interrogation. The guard fired at him, and Kevin took the hit straight to the heart.”
To the heart? That was the same shot that he’d tried to make on Emma Castille. A shot to the heart . . .
She looked over her shoulder. Her frantic gaze flew around the street, but Jax had vanished.
Please tell Em that I still protect my friends. Always will.
And she was suddenly very, very cold on that hot New Orleans street.
Don’t miss the next sexy and suspenseful novel featuring the LOST team
from New York Times best-selling author
CYNTHIA EDEN!
Read on for a sneak peek at
SHATTERED
Available in print and e-book October 2015!
MONSTERS WERE REAL, AND THEY USUALLY HID beneath the skin of men.
Dr. Sarah Jacobs had spent most of her adult life hunting monsters. She’d just finished her most recent case with LOST—Last Option Search Team—a recovery group that hunted the missing. They’d stopped the bad guy, but not before he’d killed.
More innocent lives had been lost.
No one is really innocent. Her father’s voice whispered through Sarah’s mind, and she hurried her steps as she walked down the busy New Orleans street. A few other members of her team were still in town, tying up the last of their loose ends. Before long, though, they’d all be packing things up and heading back
to the main LOST office in Atlanta.
There would be another case waiting. There always was.
Sarah’s footsteps quickened even more when she caught sight of her hotel. The doorman was outside, and a relieved smile spread across her face. She’d felt a bit odd in the last few days. As if she were being watched. She’d been taught never to ignore her instincts, but Sarah knew there was no reason for anyone to be following her. Not now.
She hurried past the doorman, mumbling a quick hello. Then she was in the bright hotel lobby. Her high heels clicked over that gleaming floor. She didn’t slow down for a little pit-stop at the crowded bar. Sarah headed right for the elevator. She got lucky and was able to slip inside immediately. Only me in here. A quick exhale of relief escaped her as the doors started to close.
Then a hand appeared. A man’s hand—strong, tan, and tattooed. Dark, swirling tattoos slid around his knuckles. He waved his hand, activating the elevator’s door sensors and causing those doors to open wide for him.
Sarah pushed back against the wall of the elevator as Jax Fontaine stepped inside. She knew him by sight. Unfortunately. She also knew the man was trouble. The local authorities generally stayed out of his way. Unless she missed her guess, they were afraid of the guy.
And I don’t blame them.
The word on the street was that Jax Fontaine was a very dangerous man. An enemy that most didn’t want to have.
Thanks to her last case, she was now acquainted with him—and she knew that she’d attracted some unwelcome interest from the guy.
“Hello, pretty Sarah,” he said. New Orleans drawled in his voice, just a hint of Creole rising and falling there. Jax smiled at her. Right. Dangerous. Definitely dangerous.
The elevator doors slid closed behind him.
Jax was tall, several inches over six feet, with broad shoulders and the kind of build that told her when he wasn’t up to no good in the French Quarter, he had to spend some serious time working out.
The guy looked like a fallen angel—if fallen angels spent a whole lot of time scaring the hell out of people. His hair was blond, thick, and a little too long. His face—that face of his was eerily perfect. Almost too handsome. A strong, hard jaw, a long blade of a nose. He had sharp cheekbones and blue eyes that seemed to see right into her soul.
And the elevator isn’t moving.
Probably because he’d leaned forward and pressed the stop button. What. The. Hell?
“I hear you’re leaving town.”
Her heartbeat spiked. When she was near him, that tended to happen. Her heart raced, her breathing came a little faster, and her stomach knotted.
Jax shook his head. “Leaving . . . and you weren’t even going to come and tell me good-bye?”
Laughter came from her. Not real laughter. She couldn’t remember what that felt like. Tight and mocking, the laugh pushed out from her. “It’s not like we’re friends, Jax.” They’d been uneasy allies on the last case. Jax had known intel that she’d needed about the killer.
“Why just be friends? That’s boring.” His gaze slid over her. That light blue gaze seemed to heat as it lingered on Sarah’s body. “We’d be much better lovers than we’d ever be friends.”
Her hands were pressed to the wall behind her—only it wasn’t a wall. A mirror. Mirrors lined that elevator. To be very clear, Sarah told him, “I don’t date dangerous men.”
Jax stepped toward her. He didn’t move like other men. He stalked. He glided. Kind of like some big jungle cat—a beast hunting his prey. His hand lifted and his tattooed knuckles slid over her cheek.
His touch made her tense. Mostly because it seemed like an electric shock flowed straight through her body when his skin touched hers.
“Who said anything about dating?” Jax asked her. His smile flashed at her, showing his even, white teeth. “I thought we’d just spend the next seven hours fucking.”
Fucking. Her chin lifted. “Start the elevator.” Because she knew exactly what sort of huge mistake she’d be making if she got involved with a man like Jax. Sarah preferred to spend her time with men who were safe. Law abiding. Men who didn’t thrive on danger and adrenaline. Men who had no idea about all of the darkness that existed in the world.
Safe men.
Jax wasn’t safe. And if she wasn’t careful, he’d see right through the mask that she wore.
When she inhaled, she could have sworn that she actually tasted him. He was so big, easily dwarfing her in that elevator, and his scent—masculine, rich—surrounded her.
Sarah pressed back against the mirror. “Start the elevator.”
His blue gaze sharpened on her. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Aren’t most people?” she dodged. Most smart people?
“Yes, but they have a reason to fear me.” His knuckles fell away from her. “You don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt you.”
Right. Like she was just supposed to take him at his word. Once Jax had been drawn into LOST’s investigation, Sarah had made it a top priority to learn as much about him as she could. Only it turned out that there wasn’t a whole lot to discover. Most of his past was cloaked, little more than rumors and smoke. Sure, she’d seen his criminal record, but that had been all juvie stuff. The guy had been good at covering his tracks once he’d become legal.
He’d been on the streets since he was a teenager. Somehow, he’d clawed his way—quite literally—out of the gutter and become a force to be reckoned with in the area. He owned several businesses and had connections that stretched across the county. And the local police were sure that he was a criminal. They just hadn’t been able to pin any serious crimes on him.
It’s hard because he has money and power. And he’s smart. She could see the intelligence in his eyes. The cunning. He won’t make mistakes easily.
“I love it when your mind starts spinning,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble. “Tell me, Dr. Jacobs, are you profiling me right now?”
Her hands lifted and she shoved against his chest. He backed up, not because she’d been uber strong and knocked him back, but because . . . dammit, she suspected he moved for her.
To make her feel in control.
But he likes power.
And, hell, she was profiling him. “I don’t understand the point of this little meeting. Stopping a woman in the elevator is hardly an appropriate pick-up routine—”
He laughed. His laughter actually sounded real. Warm and rough, it rolled right over her.
“How is anything about us appropriate?” Jax asked. That man’s voice—so deep and rumbly—it was like pure sex. She was pretty sure, like one hundred percent so, that he normally had women tossing their panties at him on sight.
She wasn’t one of those women. Or, rather, she was trying not to be one of those women.
Sarah hurried to the control panel and pressed the button to get that elevator moving again. “You’re lucky security wasn’t called in. You can’t just stop an elevator.” She was muttering. She was also not looking back at him. “Look, LOST appreciates your cooperation.” Well, she didn’t actually think her teammates did appreciate his cooperation. They pretty much thought Jax was trouble.
So right.
“But the case is over now,” Sarah continued determinedly, “and your involvement with us . . .”
The doors opened. She breathed a fast sigh of relief and said, “That involvement is over, too.” Sarah stepped out of the elevator, straightened her spine and made herself glance at him. Then she very firmly said, “Good-bye, Jax.”
He caught her right hand. “You know we’d be dynamite together. We touch, and I pretty much implode.”
Her whole body was trembling, but Sarah locked her knees. “That kind of desire is dangerous.”
“Aw, pretty Sarah, that kind of desire is addictive.”
Her room was just a few feet away. “Let go of my hand.” This madness with him had to stop. And that was exactly what it was—madness. He wasn’t the right kind of man for her. Not even for
a night. He pushed her, made Sarah want to let go of her control, and she couldn’t do that. She already walked a fine line as it was.
His index finger slid along her inner wrist. Her pulse jerked beneath his touch. He leaned toward her and his breath blew lightly against her ear as he asked, “What are you so afraid of?”
She’d never tell. “Good-bye, Jax.”
He eased back from her. “When you change your mind, come and find me.”
The guy’s arrogance was too much.
“Did you really think I’d just jump on you when I saw you?” Her skin still felt warm where he’d touched her.
His mouth hitched into a half-smile. “A guy can only hope.”
She shook her head. Then Sarah turned and marched away.
“That’s not why I came tonight. Though fucking you would have been heaven.”
Her steps slowed.
“I wanted to ask you about your business.”
Her business? LOST?
“What makes your boss decide to take on a case?”
Curious now, she looked back at him. “Is someone missing?”
Jax just shrugged. “I did my research, too, you know.”
She kept her expression still. If he’d been digging into the backgrounds of the LOST agents, then she realized that he knew all about the messed-up nightmare that was her past.
“LOST takes the cold cases, right? The ones that the cops have given up hope of solving.”
Sarah inclined her head. Her boss, Gabe Spencer, had originally opened LOST because he wanted to make a difference. When his sister had vanished, the local cops had been no help. Gabe had found Amy on his own, but he’d found her too late. The man who’d been holding Amy had killed her right before Gabe got to the scene.
“There’s no expiration date on your cases,” he said. “Doesn’t matter how much time has passed. You’ll still take it?”
“We’ve taken cases where the person has been missing for over ten years.” They were the Last Option Search Team for a reason. Most people who came to them had tried every other option available. Their efforts had turned up nothing. Desperate, at the end of their rope—yes, that was the way families were when they finally came to the LOST office in Atlanta. “But . . .” And he needed to know this, if he was looking for someone who’d been missing. “The longer a person is gone, the greater the likelihood is that you aren’t going to find a . . . a live victim.”