Except she just didn't feel that sweet rush of desperation, that wild hunger. Not like she had the night before with…
Now was a hell of a time to be thinking about that other man.
When Butch pulled back, his eyes were hooded. "I'm not doing it for you, am I?"
She laughed softly. Leave it to Hard-ass. Blunt as always.
"You know how to kiss, O'Neal, I'll give you that. So it's not for lack of technique."
He returned to his side of the seat and shook his head. "Thanks a hell of a lot."
But he didn't seem terribly hurt.
And now that she was thinking more clearly, she was glad there was no spark on her end. If she had liked him, if she had wanted to be with him, he would have broken her heart. She was sure of it. In ten years, if he made it that long, he was going to implode from the stress, the ugliness, the sorrow of his job. It was eating him alive already. Every year he was wound a little tighter, and no one, but no one, was going to pull him out of that tailspin.
"Careful there, Randall," he said. "It's bad enough knowing I don't turn you on. But that pity on your face is a real ass burner."
"Sorry." She smiled at him.
"Mind if I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"What's up with you and men? Do you, ah, do you like them? Us, I mean?"
She laughed, thinking of what she'd done last night with that stranger. The question of her sexual orientation had certainly been laid to rest. Buried good and hard.
"Yeah, I like men."
"Did someone do a number on you? You know, hurt you?"
Beth shook her head. "I just like to keep to myself."
He looked down at the steering wheel, running his hand around the circumference. "That's a damn shame. Because you're terrific. You really are." He cleared his throat as if he'd made himself feel uncomfortable.
Sheepish. Good lord, Hard-ass was actually sheepish.
On impulse, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You're pretty fantastic yourself."
"Yeah. I know." He shot her his trademark mocking grin. "Now get your butt inside that building. It's late."
Butch watched as Beth crossed in front of his headlights, her hair flowing over her shoulders.
She was the real deal, he thought. A genuinely good woman.
And man, she knew exactly what his drill was. That look of sadness in her eyes just now meant she saw the early grave that was waiting for him.
So it was just as well there was no chemistry for her. Otherwise he might try to talk her into falling in love with him just so he didn't go to hell all by his lonesome.
He put the car in gear, but kept his foot on the brake as she went up the steps to the front lobby. She had her hand on the door and was shooting him a wave when something moved in the shadows beside the building.
He flipped the engine back into park.
There was a man dressed in black heading around to the rear.
Butch got out of the car and jogged silently across the side lawn.
Chapter Fourteen
Wrath's sole focus was getting to Beth. So it wasn't until he was halfway across the courtyard that he heard the human behind him.
"Police! Halt!"
And then there was that all-too-familiar sound of a gun being cocked at him.
"Let me see your hands!"
Wrath caught the man's scent and smiled. Lust had been replaced with aggression, and the fighting urge was as strong as the sexual one had been. The guy was full of juice tonight.
"I said, halt and hands!"
Wrath stopped and reached into his jacket for one of the stars. Cop or not, he was going to drop the human, put a nice little slice through his artery.
But then Beth threw open the slider.
He smelled her instantly, and wouldn't you know it, he got a hard-on.
"Hands!"
"What's going on?" Beth demanded.
"Get back in the house," the human barked. "Hands, asshole! Or I'll put a window in the back of your skull."
By this time the cop was no more than ten feet away and closing fast. Wrath lifted his palms. He wasn't about to kill in front of Beth. Besides, that gun was going to be at point-blank range in another three seconds. And not even he could survive a hit that tight.
"O'Neal-"
Beth, get the fuck out of here!
A heavy hand clamped down on Wrath's shoulder. He let the cop push him against the building.
"You want to tell me what you're doing waltzing around this place?" the human ordered.
"Out for a walk," Wrath said. "And you?"
The cop grabbed one and then the other of Wrath's arms and pulled them back. The cuffs went on quickly. The guy was an old pro with the metal.
Wrath looked over at Beth. From what he could tell, she had her arms linked tightly across her chest. Fear thickened the air around her, turning it into a blanket that covered her from head to foot.
Isn't this going well, he thought. She was scared to death of him again.
"Do not look at her," the cop said, pushing Wrath's face toward the wall. "What's your name?"
"Wrath," Beth answered. "He told me it was Wrath."
The human actually snarled at her. "Do you have a hearing problem, sweetheart? Get out of here."
"I want to know who he is, too."
"I'll phone in a fucking report tomorrow morning, how's that?"
Wrath growled. He couldn't deny that getting her inside was a damn good idea. But he did not appreciate the way the cop was talking to her.
The human reached inside Wrath's jacket and started pulling out weapons. Three throwing stars, a switchblade, a handgun, a length of chain.
"Jesus Christ," the cop muttered as he dropped the steel links on the ground with the rest of the load. "You got some ID? Or wasn't there enough room in here for a wallet, considering you're carrying about thirty pounds of concealed weapons?"
When the cop found a thick wad of cash, he cursed again. "Am I going to find drugs, too, or have you sold out for tonight?"
Wrath allowed himself to be spun around and slammed back against the bricks. While his two daggers were stripped from their holster, he stared down at the cop, thinking how much he was going to enjoy ripping that thick throat open with his teeth. He leaned forward, leading with his head. He couldn't help it.
"O'Neal, be careful!" Beth said, as if she'd read his mind.
The cop pressed his gun muzzle into Wrath's neck. "So how about a name?"
"Are you arresting me?"
"Yeah. I am."
"For what?"
"Let me think. Trespassing. Concealed weapons. Do you have a permit for that handgun? I'm betting no. Oh, and thanks to all these throwing stars, I'm thinking murder, too. Yeah, that should do it."
"Murder?" Beth whispered.
"Your name?" the cop demanded, glaring up at him.
Wrath smiled tightly. "You must be clairvoyant."
"'Scuse me?"
"About the murder charge." Wrath laughed softly and dropped his voice. "You ever been inside a body bag, Officer?"
Rage, pure and vibrant, came out of the man's pores. "Don't threaten me."
"I'm not."
The left hook came through the air fast as a baseball, and Wrath did nothing to avoid it. The cop's meaty fist caught the side of his jaw and kicked his head back. A sunburst of pain exploded in his face.