"Yes." And if she let Grey into her apartment, that's exactly what she was doing—staking her life on her instincts.
"I hope you know what you're doing."
So did she. "Remember I told you about those two women at the table? I think this Genny Jones might be one of them."
Which would explain why she'd smelled that aroma when she was close to them.
So how come she was the next one slated to die?
Especially when the killer had been no where near her?
"Don't take him back to your apartment," Jack said forcefully.
"Jack, if he intended to harm me, he could have done it long before now. There's only us and Dan here in the diner.
It's a perfect place for murder."
"Yeah, but your apartment is where you feel safer; therefore it's more dangerous because you're less on guard."
"I'm not a fool."
"I'm not saying you are. I'm just asking you to be careful.
Especially when we know so little about this man—this stranger—you seem to trust so much."
"I'm being careful. I'll see you tonight."
He grunted. "You'd better."
She hung up and walked back to Grey. She stopped several feet in front of him and crossed her arms, her pose as defensive as his was hostile.
"You cannot go back to that bar tonight," he said, voice flat.
His hearing was obviously as good as hers, because she certainly hadn't been talking to Jack loudly. "I have a job to do."
"You will die doing that job."
The ice slid back into her stomach. "Why? If the killer had been anywhere near me, I would have caught his scent."
He raised his eyebrows at that. "You know his scent?"
"It lingered at the death scenes."
His expression was briefly curious. "And what did you make of it?"
She shrugged. "It almost seems more a woman's scent than a man's, except for the thick layer of death that entwines it."
Surprise flickered, not so much in his eyes, but in the air.
Across her senses.
"Interesting," was all he said.
"Maybe, but you still haven't explained why I'm the next one slated to die when I've been nowhere near the killer."
He hesitated. "It will be my fault."
She raised her eyebrows. "How?"
"According to our clairvoyants, you will meet the killer tonight. He will see me in your mind, and he will snatch you, abuse you, then kill you to get at me."
"He hates you that much?"
"Yes."
"And are these killings related to his hatred of you?"
"No. I told you before what his reasons are for these killings."
She rubbed her arms, but it failed to stop the goose bumps fleeing across her skin. "And knowing all this, you still approached me last night?"
"I'd intended to walk right past you, but our gazes met."
He shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I'm not superman. Even knowing the risks, I could not ignore what rose between us."
Anger surged through her. "So you endangered my life to satisfy lust?"
His anger lashed at her skin, every bit as powerful as her own. "Not lust. What lies between us is more than lust, and you know it."
"What lies between us may never have a chance to be explored any further, thanks to your behavior."
"I don't deny my stupidity, but it is a problem easily solved. Just don't go to the bar tonight."
"I can't not go, especially if I'm going to meet the killer tonight."
"You will die."
"I'm in a bar, surrounded by security and watched over by police. He's not going to get me out of there without a fight.
From them, and from me."
"You don't know this person. You have no idea what he's capable of."
"And despite the amazing sex we've shared, you don't know me. Nor do you know what I'm capable of."
"I don't want to see you dead."
"Believe me, it's not something I want, either."
He grimaced, then pushed away from the table and held out a hand. "We could argue about this all day. Or we could go back to your apartment, share some more of that amazing sex, and then figure out some sort of compromise that suits us both."
She glanced at her watch. It was barely eight, which still left plenty of time to play before she had to get some rest. "I really do need to sleep," she warned.
"Then I'll keep watch."
The thought of him watching her as she slept sent a thrill through her. She placed her hand in his, and he tightened his fingers, pressing warmth and an odd sense of security into her skin.
Even so, she still felt an odd reluctance to move. Not because she feared for her safety, but because she feared for something far more important—her heart. By letting Grey into her apartment, she was letting him into her sanctuary—the one place no man had ever been. It was a big step for her, and one she wasn't sure Grey would ever appreciate.
She wasn't even sure he was worthy of such a step, even if he did affect her in ways no man ever had.
But she couldn't exactly stand here, dithering, either.
"Let's go."
They were almost out the door when Dan called out, reminding them to pick up the coffee. Grey rolled his eyes, but went back to collect the cups while she huddled in the doorway. Coffee in hand and sipping it as she walked, she led him across the street and up the steps. Once there, she punched in her code, using her body to shield her movements from him. The door swung open and he ushered her through, his touch pressing warmth into her spine and sending yet another flash flood of desire crashing through her system.
Lord, even after all the sex they'd shared, it seemed her hormones couldn't get enough of this man.
They climbed the stairs to her fourth floor apartment and walked down the long corridor. Though neither of them said a word, the air grew thick and heavy, and her breathing quickened in response. And with each sharp intake of air, she breathed in his desire, his need, until it filled every corner of her body and made her burn.
Her hand trembled as she reached into her coat and took out the keycard. She swiped it through the slot, then pushed open the door and walked inside.
The door slammed shut behind her. He took the almost empty coffee container out of her hand, placing it on the hall stand, then his hands were on her, pushing her coat down her arms, pulling it off and flinging it across the room.
"I need you," he growled, kissing her shoulder, her neck, her ear. "It's madness, but I just can't seem get enough of you."
If this was madness, then she was just as insane as he.
She ducked away from his kisses and spun, grabbing his shirt, popping the buttons in her haste to undress him. He threw off the shirt, then quickly shucked off his jeans. She slithered her hands down the flat of his stomach then took his cock in her fingers, relishing the way he jumped, and seemed to grow even larger under her heavy-handed caress.
He made a low noise in the back of his throat, then grasped the middle of her dress, his big hands warm on her skin. His gaze caught and held hers, his expression almost fierce. With one swift movement, he tore the material from her body and threw the remnants across the room as well.
God, she'd never been so aroused in her life.
"I need you," he repeated, then claimed her lips, his kiss harsh and urgent.
"Then take me," she said, when she could.
He did. Up against the wall, driving deep, so wonderfully deep, until it felt as if the rigid heat of him was trying to claim every inch of her. Her blood boiled through her veins, and every breath seemed a struggle, the air too thick with need and desire to breathe easily. The low down pressure began to build under the rush of passion and the sweet assault of pleasure, and all too quickly it reached the boiling point. They came as one, his roar getting lost in her howl, his body slamming into hers so hard the whole wall seemed to shake.