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“Three forty-five this morning.”

“Well after he’d been murdered and everything ransacked.”

I nodded again. “Which doesn’t make sense. Why do it after they’d ransacked? Why not do it before?”

He half shrugged. “Maybe they accessed it only after they hadn’t found whatever it was they were looking for elsewhere.”

“But all his notes were stored there. All of them—” I stopped suddenly. All except the ones I had, that was.

“What?”

I cleared my throat. “Mark asked me to type up some notes the night he died. I’ve still got them.”

“Fuck. You should have mentioned—”

“I forgot,” I snapped. “It’s not like I did it deliberately.” Not like I wanted his grumpy, forbidding ass in my life any longer than necessary.

And if I kept telling myself that often enough, I might eventually believe it.

Sam grunted. His expression wasn’t giving much away, but the darkness in him was stronger, its caress making me shiver and yearn. It almost felt like the aura a vampire used when they wanted to make their blood taking as pleasurable as possible. Not all of them did, of course. Some, like the one who’d killed me, rather enjoyed the taste of fear and panic. But at least the bastard had suffered, because I’d managed to burn a good part of his body before I’d died. Vampires couldn’t regenerate ruined flesh any more than a phoenix could—although at least our rebirth did give us a fresh, scar-free start.

“Are they still at home?” he asked.

I nodded. “I usually transfer the files across to the institute once I finish transcribing, but I forgot to do that with everything that happened.”

“Probably just as well, given they’ve managed to steal everything else.”

“Meaning they did get into the institute’s system?”

“Yes. Although they only erased Baltimore’s notes.”

I rubbed my arms, trying to get some warmth into them. Saw his eyes flicker briefly downward and felt my nipples harden.

And wished like hell there was some way to make myself as immune to this man as he was to me.

He leaned back in his chair, his face a mask. “Then we’d better go get them.”

“Fuck it, no.” The words were out of my mouth before I’d even thought about them. “I’ve just spent the last thirteen hours crawling around floors, stacking papers, and going through books. I’ve done more than enough for one day. Besides, I have a goddamn date.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression almost mocking. “With the Fae you ran into at the apartment building?”

Anger flared again, and the heat of it touched my cheeks. “What if it is?”

“Given what has been going on in that building, it might be better if you’d wait until he’s fully checked out.”

I snorted softly. “You lost the right to tell me who I could and couldn’t see a long time ago.”

“I never had that fucking right.” His low voice was so cold it felt like I’d been slapped by ice. “Even when we were together.”

“And you never gave me a chance to explain why!”

“Cheating is cheating, Red,” he bit back. “End of story.”

It wasn’t, but it would never matter. It was over between us, and nothing could ever repair the damage, no matter how desperate my foolish heart might be to believe otherwise.

He took a deep breath, and the darkness and anger in him retreated. “Fine. I’ll have someone drop by tomorrow morning to collect them.”

“Fine,” I retorted. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“If we need anything else, someone else can fucking find you.” And with that, he rose and walked out.

I released a slow breath, but it didn’t do a whole lot to ease the anger and tension that ran through me. What I needed was time in the arms of someone who cared, but Rory was no doubt in Rosie’s tender embrace by now. A hot and sexy Fae—even if he was a total stranger—would have to do instead.

I plucked his business card out of my pocket and gave him a call.

“Jackson Miller.” His voice was deep and warm, and I closed my eyes in pleasure as he added, “How may I help you?”

“I believe you promised me a drink,” I said. “And I’m finding myself in need of one right now.”

“Emberly! I wasn’t sure if you’d call tonight. I thought I might have scared you off with my straightforwardness.”

I laughed softly. “Trust me, a straightforward man will never scare me away. Are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy to have a drink with a pretty lady.” He paused. “Where are you?”

“Magenta’s. It’s just—”

“I know exactly where it is,” he cut in cheerfully. “I’ll be there in five.”

Meaning he was close. Good. I needed to steal some of his warmth. A chill seemed to have settled into my bones, and I couldn’t risk flaming in a bar that was packed with humans.

Jackson was as good as his word and appeared five minutes later, a big, lean man who radiated sexuality and heat. His grin, when his gaze met mine, was easy and delighted, creasing the corners of his green eyes.

“Emberly,” he said, and leaned down to drop a kiss on my cheek. Though it was little more than a light brush of lips, the memory of it seemed to linger on my skin, all tingly and warm. “You have no idea how pleased I am to hear from you so soon.”

I smiled. “I wasn’t sure what you drank, so I haven’t ordered anything yet.”

“Good, because a lady should never buy a man a drink. Not until the second or third date, anyway.”

“I think most ladies would disagree with that,” I said dryly, “given it often leads to unwarranted expectations.”

“Oh, I have plenty of expectations.” Mischief sparkled in his eyes. “But as I’ve already told you, they’ll come with our second date. What would you like to drink?”

“Just a chardonnay, thanks.”

He nodded and went to get our drinks. On returning, he sat in Sam’s recently vacated chair, filling the space with warmth and sunshine rather than moody darkness.

“So,” he said, crossing his arms on the table and studying me with an intensity that was different from and yet no less unsettling than Sam’s. “Tell me about yourself.”

I gave him a vague outline of what I did for a living, then said, “You?”

He half shrugged. “I own an engineering company. We design and develop new industrial machinery to clients’ specifications.”

“Sounds more exciting than my job.”

“It’s not. You been in Melbourne long?”

My turn to shrug. “For about nine years now. You?”

“Most of my work is here nowadays, but I do the occasional job in Sydney.”

I took a sip of my wine, then said, “So why is a fire Fae working in a city as big as Melbourne?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why is a phoenix?”

“Change of scenery.”

“Same. Of course, it certainly doesn’t hurt that there’s a female Fae here only a few years away from becoming fertile.” That slow, sexy smile appeared again. “And there’s certainly more non-Fae possibilities to explore more sensual pastimes with here in the big smoke.”

Once again, his expression left me in no doubt that he was hoping to explore some of those sensual pastimes with me. Excitement shivered through me. The Fae were, according to Rory, fantastic lovers. He’d been lucky enough to spend some time with one several rebirths ago, but I’d never met one before now.

“So this female—her name wouldn’t happen to be Rochelle, would it?”

He shrugged. “I’ve only caught her scent a few times, and we’re not likely to meet until she’s ready to reproduce. We Fae are an antisocial lot.”